Last night at The Greek (15 April), Red Richardson strolled onto the stage with the casual bravado of someone who knows the room’s already on his side – and within minutes, he proved exactly why he's being hailed as one of the UK’s most exciting comedic voices.
Bringing his 'Bugatti' show to Australia for the first time, Richardson delivered a tight, ferociously funny hour that felt less like a traditional tour stop and more like a rogue comedy ambush in a glorified office conference room – something he wasted no time pointing out himself, to roaring laughter. The space may not have screamed "rockstar comic", but the energy in the room certainly did. Packed with fans who clearly knew his viral 'Stay Toxic' sketches, the crowd was primed to see if the man behind the meme could bring the same fire in real life.
What sets Richardson apart is his uncanny ability to straddle the line between smart and silly, unfiltered and self-aware. He’s not just riffing – he’s building worlds, laying out jokes with the confidence of a stand-up who’s done his time in the clubs but never lost his sense of irreverence. There’s no narrative arc to 'Bugatti' per se, but that’s hardly a flaw. This is a comedian who thrives in the chaos of unpredictability.
The crowd work was razor-sharp – effortless, brutal, but never mean-spirited. One minute he was dismantling the toxic cult of masculinity with a bit about David Carradine’s bizarre demise, the next he was grilling an audience member who said they worked in commercial real estate, quipping that he clearly hadn’t listened to the Acknowledgment of Country. Someone behind me was snort-laughing the entire time – and honestly, same.
Richardson’s charm lies in his contradictions: he’s the viral sensation who mocks social media addiction, the blokeish everyman who dismantles blokeish behaviour. His material on ego, image, and masculinity is where 'Bugatti' really revs into gear – particularly in a bit where he asks, with perfect comic timing, why there’s still no male equivalent of the body positivity movement. “Small dick” remains one of the most wounding insults in the cultural arsenal, he pointed out, and the audience cackled knowingly. It’s a hilarious, subtly scathing look at the impossible standards of modern manhood, and Richardson sliced through it with the precision of someone who knows exactly how absurd it all is.
Yes, some bits felt like they could’ve slotted into any club set around the world, but when Richardson’s on, he’s on – and those moments far outweigh any filler. He’s a comic who clearly thrives in front of a live audience, his brusque, punchy delivery finding its perfect match in the reactive, rowdy energy of a sold-out Aussie crowd.
There might be sharper political comics, and flashier storytellers, but there’s something irresistibly real about Red Richardson. He’s not trying to change the world – he’s just holding up a slightly cracked mirror to it, and laughing along with the rest of us.
