In 2021, what does gratitude sound like? Having witnessed it first hand, I'd say it's the sound of a 2000-seat auditorium lit up with laughter, a sold-out theatre filled to the roof with the sheer noise and relief of it.
Russell Howard is here to tell us about the world, and the news isn't good. But if you didn't laugh, you'd cry, and that is exactly Howard's point. And so we fill the room with it.
"That was entirely new material," he says with surprise, just 10 minutes into the show. "I think tonight is going to go very well."
Howard is one of the world's biggest comedy stars. His flow is punchy and unstoppable, and he bounds across the stage like a puppy, a twinkle in his eye, and a half grin on his lips at all times.
But Howard is no puppy - there is darkness behind the goofy grin, and his material is surprisingly smutty, from the state of the world to the taste of vaginas; from influencers to anti-vaxxers, to an inappropriate incident in front of a lion (he was protecting his wife, ok?). He's angry too - at the politicians and the conspiracy theorists and the sexists and the feminists. No one is safe, least of all his long-suffering family (who are probably used to it by now, after years of Howard's ridicule).