Henry Rollins, Festival Hall - review - Comedy - Arts

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The black-clad raconteur stood rooted to the spot for two and a half hours without an interval or pause for breath but the minutes raced by. This self-styled "work slut" has a penchant for squeezing every ounce of excitement out of life by venturing where few dare to tread and his witty, frontline dispatches both informed and entertained.

Highlights included insights into North Korea's isolationist regime, a revealing vignette about Chinese power in Tibet and a moving tale of visiting post-earthquake Haiti and causing riots by handing out soap.

A Rollins set is usually more overtly political than this but he has hardly gone soft. His playfully confrontational encounters make militant satirist Mark Thomas resemble a liberal and his rat-eating in India makes Bear Grylls seem like a girl's blouse.

Despite some menacing tattoos, Rollins remains a starkly funny performer, with an appealing sense of his own muscular absurdity: "My physique is like my anger. I work on it daily."

Henry Rollins
Festival Hall
Southbank Centre
Belvedere Road
SE1 8XX