I last saw Stephen K Amos perform 6 years ago, at the Sky City Theatre, and perhaps it's the slightly smaller venue, or perhaps the less formal attire (the man certainly knew how to rock a vintage suit in 2007), but this evening's show feels a lot more intimate and relaxed that my previous encounter with him.

It really is fantastic to watch a comedian build rapport with their audience so quickly and have them in the palm of their hand with such ease – even the unsuspecting members who provide much off-the-cuff material for him (warning: if you are a teenage boy considering attending his show with your Mother you may want to re-think this for fear of some awkward silences on the car ride home).

The anagrammatical title of Amos' show – The Spokesman – provides a solid foundation for him to share his stories and social observations. As he promises the audience at the beginning of the show, he takes us everywhere, referencing spokesmen and role models – the good, the bad, and the ugly – to segue into some wickedly funny pieces.

Amos is still a consummate entertainer; he's charming, has a lovely resonant voice and a great physicality. But what makes him particularly clever is his understanding of pace and how to use it to keep an audience engaged, and his ability to flow between his longer stories and cheeky one-liners, peppering these with audience interactions, serves him well.

Plus he is just very funny. Even when he fumbles a joke early on in the performance he deftly uses the situation to his advantage; a scenario I have seen completely throw other comedians off their game.

Six years ago, Stephen K Amos was telling his audience to “Find the funnies”. It seems he hasn't stopped.

If you are in to stand up comedy, Stephen K Amos needs no introduction. He is a household name in the comedic circuit and there is a reason for it – he is bloody good at what he does!

Stephen is back with a new show this year – The Spokesman – which comes from not only a passing comment that he would make a good spokesperson but more interestingly it also happens to be an anagram of his name. He doesn’t make too much reference to this however; instead he focuses more on heroes and role models and this is a recurring theme which gets interspersed throughout the show amidst his usual style of sharing his observations and personal experiences.

Throughout the hour, we learn about the time he met the Queen, his fear of water and why he believes Jesus is a comedian – to name a few. Most of the stories were actually ones he had shared in his previous show and though they were just as funny to hear again, I do wish we got to hear more new material!

He also spends a fair bit of time poking fun at our neighbors across the ditch which naturally sat very well with a Kiwi audience. Comedians are generally really good at mimicking accents but I’ve always marveled at how particularly adept Stephen is at them, particularly the Australian accent.

Stephen’s greatest strength is his innate ability to establish a wonderful rapport with his audience which he uses to his full advantage and incorporates seamlessly into his set. The show soon becomes much like an open forum with Stephen asking questions, conducting experiments and welcoming feedback from the crowd. You don’t often find an audience at a comedy gig so willing to be “picked on” but in this show it felt like people were competing to be heard – at one point even audience members started heckling other audience members!

Stephen K Amos truly is a well seasoned veteran and an absolute master at his craft. The Spokesman has the same “feel good” quality that is very signature Stephen K Amos and is off-the-cuff comedy at it’s very best.

Stephen K Amos is an international comedy star and when you attend his new show The Spokesman you very quickly understand why his shows sell out all over the world. The Man is Funny!

From the outset he has the audience in raptures. There is no easing into the show but instead some wonderfully inappropriate mockery of the relationship between Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd. And the laughs don’t stop.

In The Spokesman Amos questions the role of spokespeople in the media, who are they, how are they qualified and ultimately is Stephen K Amos qualified to be a spokesman for anything, even himself.

That is a dull description for an unbelievably funny show. But Amos can make anything hilarious. He is a man at the top of his craft; his skillful delivery works the crowd into hysterics, then brings it down a notch, only to again kick off another frenzy of laughter. There were points where I was begging him to stop just so I could catch a breath.

Stephen K Amos is brilliant and even though he says this show is still in development, it is already a highlight of the Fringe.

Stephen K Amos has been a part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival for approximately four hundred years (not an accurate guess, more like five or six) and as such is well prepared to make jokes about Australia, Australian culture, and bo-gahns, as he calls them. And oh how he makes jokes.

Hailing from the UK, he's well-equipped to bring Australia's convict background into his jokes, explaining that he comes from the 'motherland' and making observations about the general low intellect in our country. Surprisingly enough, it's not offensive in the slightest when he makes fun of… well, all of us, really, but comes across as intellectually humorous, even when all he's doing is grunting and pulling faces. The rest of the show, aside from the random jokes he throws in, concerns spokespeople - people whose stories we're just expected to take at face value. Amos of course doesn't believe himself a spokesperson, but he gives a few fairly good reasons as to why it just wouldn't work out if he was expected to speak for… well, anyone. (Hence why his own pre-prepared story concerning his hotel indiscretions - among other things - is delivered by a randomly selected audience member, highlighting the very point he's trying to make.)

With just a microphone, a stool, and a bottle of water, Amos presents himself as the ultimate standup comedian. He's in jeans and a t-shirt, he has no props (except a rarely-used binder book of jokes he's 'testing' on the audience) and no set, and relies only on his cutting wit to pull in laughs. Luckily, with the addition of liberal amounts of vulgarity and the odd sex joke (an interesting one in this particular show concerning Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd), he really does tell a good enough yarn to get people rolling in the aisles.

Though he is talented just in basic joke-telling, really a staple of the comedic industry, Amos relies a good deal on audience participation. The moral of the story is to stay out of the front row at his shows unless you intend to be humiliated beyond belief, as he spent much of the night taunting a poor kid about coming to the show alone. Amos' storytelling skills are far outweighed by his improvisational talents - he really comes to life when he's faced with a group of people shouting out their fears (clowns, spiders, eggshells?) - and it's a joy to watch him wring more laughs from everyone in the building as he plays certain jokes again and again.

To top it all off, if he's really feeling it, Amos will let audience members encourage him to tell old jokes, extending his show by a half hour or more. If that's not incentive to get in and see him (and clap like a mad person), I'm not sure what is. Free show extension? I'd go again just for that.

STEPHEN K. Amos walks an unusual line between intelligent wit and down-and-dirty, idiotic naughtiness, which means that he can balance all types of audience members in the palm of his hand.

Clad in jeans and black T-shirt, he shifts from refined tones and smart political references to bold, broad caricatures and gags about booze and sex, all of which have the crowd roaring.

His material is impeccably crafted, his comic timing skilful and, throughout the show, his delivery remains conversational, amiable and relaxed as he strolls through local and global topics.

Darwin is actually the missing link; Adelaide is littered with mullet and bogans; our weather is hellish; Julia Gillard thinks she is a superhero; and Amos also learns a thing or two about Melton.

He rambles about his fear of water then quizzes audience members about their own phobias, eliciting strange responses including a fear of eggshells, or holes that are too close together. Really!

He questions us about our heroes and role models, and insists that he is not a good person to be a spokesman because of his litany of flaws.

He handles the crowd like a zookeeper feeding the animals, tossing us gag after gag, tantalising us with his jokes and inviting us to play with him, only to turn, ever so gently, on someone in the front row who looks too tame.

He ticks off, on his clipboard, the new jokes that work, teases the crowd, calls for requests for his old jokes from past routines.

The slick and accomplished Amos enjoys himself as he sails through 80 minutes, and the crowd gleefully sails with him and leaves happy.

STEPHEN K. Amos walks an unusual line between intelligent wit and down-and-dirty, idiotic naughtiness, which means that he can balance all types of audience members in the palm of his hand.

Clad in jeans and black T-shirt, he shifts from refined tones and smart political references to bold, broad caricatures and gags about booze and sex, all of which have the crowd roaring.

His material is impeccably crafted, his comic timing skilful and, throughout the show, his delivery remains conversational, amiable and relaxed as he strolls through local and global topics.

Darwin is actually the missing link; Adelaide is littered with mullet and bogans; our weather is hellish; Julia Gillard thinks she is a superhero; and Amos also learns a thing or two about Melton.

He rambles about his fear of water then quizzes audience members about their own phobias, eliciting strange responses including a fear of eggshells, or holes that are too close together. Really!

He questions us about our heroes and role models, and insists that he is not a good person to be a spokesman because of his litany of flaws.

He handles the crowd like a zookeeper feeding the animals, tossing us gag after gag, tantalising us with his jokes and inviting us to play with him, only to turn, ever so gently, on someone in the front row who looks too tame.

He ticks off, on his clipboard, the new jokes that work, teases the crowd, calls for requests for his old jokes from past routines.

The slick and accomplished Amos enjoys himself as he sails through 80 minutes, and the crowd gleefully sails with him and leaves happy.

Stephen K Amos returns to New Zealand as The Spokesman, albeit a reluctant one. His new stand-up show has this theme, but it’s one that he only loosely sticks to. He spends time getting to know his audience and warms up the laughs as he goes. He takes no prisoners and can handle anything thrown his way from the crowd.

Following his fleeting comment on his sexuality at a gig a few years ago, the British media thought he would make a great spokesman for gay rights. His reluctant title of spokesman makes for some of the material in the show as he argues why he shouldn’t be one. He reflected on life, family and role models. He also talks of age, crises, fears and zorbing!

He is the master of his stage with his laid back style. Flexing the kind of confidence that only comes with 20 years in the comedy business.

His act includes wonderful audience interaction that really make you part of the show. His ability to weave these in and out of his material is second to none. A world class act for a reason.

The Spokesman is Amos just doing what he does best. Reaching his audience and making them laugh. He may not want to be one but he can be a spokesman for comedy at least!

When it comes to attending shows, my genre of choice is generally theatre. This means that I usually write about Theatre. But at the moment I’m going to a few comedy shows and stand up comedy at that. So when I sat down to write this post I had a moment – how do you actually write about comedy? I don’t particularly want to ruin the jokes – so I’m just going to tell you what I liked and if there are spoilers… Oops.

Last night I went to see British Comedian, Stephen K Amos at Q Theatre. Performing in New Zealand isn’t very unusual for Amos – he’s been a few times but I’d never heard of him until the Gala last Friday evening. It’s pretty tough to wow a crowd in 4 minutes, but Amos wowed me and so I was pretty stoked to be attending.

In typical visitor fashion Amos kicked off the show by referring to the fact that he was in Auckland. Or ‘our village of Auckland’ – I’m not sure if this was the impression that the council was going for with ‘Big Little City’ but with the little jab the show was on and we were all participating.

Over the course of the next hour Amos flew through a variety of topics – racism, current affairs, aging, fears, family, names, zorbing. It may sound a bit all over the place – indeed it was but Amos is a comedian who isn’t afraid of diverging from the plan and it works for him.

In fact some of my favourite moments happened when he was distracted by the audience – these distraction creating some very special moments.

For example, about ten minutes into the show a couple walked in late. The male of the pair was wearing a hat and Amos did not shy from making a point of it. ‘Where have you been?! Take off your hat!’ It could have ended there but Amos decided to keep pushing and luckily for us all this couple ended up provided some stellar responses. The first nail was that the males name was Roland. ‘Roland?!’ Amos roared? ‘What sort of name is Roland? I’ve never met anyone under 40 who’s name is Roland?!’ But it didn’t end there, Amos requested the name of the female – Bridget. ‘Bridget?!’ Amos responded, ‘Who gives anyone that sort of name?!’ And as if the Comedy Gods were on que Bridget’s Dad happened to be sitting right there – Zane. Cue threesome jokes. And the following stellar musical moments.

There was a time, when I looked into my father’s thigh.

Shine bright like a vagina.

Yes. That really happened. The audience based jokes didn’t stop there though. While Amos was telling a joke about a horse something beautiful happened. Amos realised that one of the audience members actually laughed like a horse. From this moment on whenever there was laughter there was also a whinny and soon Amos was nearly dying of his own laughter on stage.

I’m not sure about how other people feel about this but watching someone laugh is something that I really enjoy. Watching a comedian lose it laughing during his own show – priceless.

Amos’ show is called The Spokesman but Amos isn’t necessarily trying to be a spokesman – not in the usual sense at least. Amos is crass, he admits to smoking and drinking and dabbling in drugs, essentially he’s human. While its all supposed to be humor, it’s a subject matter that really speaks to me – why the hell is everyone supposed to be a role model? Why does everyone need to speak for a collective? And Amos points out just how ridiculous it really is because somehow, straight man Stephen K Amos became a spokesman for gay rights – I’ll let him explain that for himself.

While we’re at the very beginning of the festival I feel like Stephen K Amos is definitely a festival must. He’s a comedian who uses the world around him to supply his jokes making for a show that is dynamic to watch – its not all jokes about his love life or his kids (or lack thereof), about getting wasted or getting old. They’re jokes which everyone can take a part in and which if you’re lucky/ unlucky might end up being about you personally.

The Spokesman is not for the easily offended. Maybe we should just say it’s for the hard to offend. It’s part of Amos’s charm that he is so comfortable on stage that he can converse with the audience and improvise, but the charm tarnishes a little when most of that improvising translates to verbally bashing up the first few rows. That said, the only tears in the crowd were from laughter.

Amos’s particular brand of humour is divisive, characterised by tearing other people to pieces. Everyone rated a mention: Darwin, Brisbane, Melton, Footscray, parts of London, politicians, a priest, the list goes on. This cast of villains is likely to change depending on who piques his interest on any particular night, and who in the audience inspires him.

Unlike other performers who pick a theme for the night and stick closely to their planned set, Amos performed a show that was as relaxed as if he was making it up as he went along. There were only a few occasional references to why he wouldn’t make a good spokesman, one supposes to prove he has read his own advertising material. One of the only obviously planned parts of the show saw Amos elect a spokesman for himself from the audience, and she could barely read the scripted statement through her laughter.

Amos does what he does well, and he knows his audience. He presents a savage style of take-no-prisoners comedy that doesn’t take itself (or anyone else) too seriously. The audience were roaring, and Amos proved repeatedly he could make the crowd laugh with a single word.

Stephen K. Amos is super-funny.

It’d be easy (and almost appropriate) to leave the review there. It feels bad to spoil the myriad charms and surprises of The Spokesman (Auckland, through until May 4; Wellington, May 5) by describing them here, but I’m going to try anyway.

The bulk of the show’s appeal comes from Amos’s loose performance style: He riffs on and with the audience, at length, and with such precision and timing that it could be pre-planned. It speaks volumes of his talent that these riffs are as hilarious as his other material, where he riffs on his unsuitability as a spokesman, his phobia of water, and his own twin sister.

Even when he goes on tangents, like establishing a rapport with a hapless young man in the front row, the show is compelling and it’s a credit to Amos’s presence that we feel like we’re in safe hands the whole time. It also helps that these tangents are always hilarious, and are just as funny as Amos’s planned material.

Amos’s style of humour is irreverent, pointed, and possibly more offensive to the more timid members of the audience, which thankfully don’t include me. He gets in some great digs at New Zealand; it can be occasionally jarring to see an overseas comic make jokes at New Zealand culture or current affairs, but Amos gets through that barrier on the basis of how well he seems to know the country, and by tackling jokes we’ve heard before with his own fantastic spin. At a key moment, he also reads out audience suggestions of what he should be a spokesman for, and manages to poke fun at himself as much as he does at the suggestions. It’s this involvement that keeps him from being off-putting, and keeps us laughing with him as much as we’re laughing at him (and his targets).

All this seems extraneous though. I could leave the review at “Stephen K. Amos is super-funny” and be entirely true. He is super-funny. But he’s also intelligent, charismatic, a little bit mean, and puts on a damn good show.

Returning to the New Zealand Comedy Festival with his new show, The Spokesman, Stephen K. Amos delivers an intimate hour of material based around the idea of role models.

In a black t-shirt and jeans, Amos quickly gets to grips with his front row and gains a rapport through his hilarious observations and relaxed nature.

His laid-back style of comedy puts the audience at great ease, with intelligent wit mixing cleverly alongside spontaneous spells of audience interaction. Australia forms the basis of much of his early material, with the British comedian poking fun at the experiences of his spell over there before heading to New Zealand.

Conducting the whole audience into playing a joke on somebody in the front row when she gets back to her seat works a treat, as does finding out the fears and phobias of his audience. Amos garners many laughs from his own fear of water and being unable to swim, as well as his own unsuitability as a spokesman.

On several occasions his jokes are delivered in a teased-out manner, giving the audience a very interactive feel to proceedings, and it is clear that Amos is having a lot of fun, regularly laughing at the responses of the audience members he speaks with. Whether it is joking about the news coverage of the marmite shortage in New Zealand or the horse meat scandal in the UK, nothing is off-limits and the audience laps it up.

Amos is an experienced comedian who effortlessly glides through his set, eliciting enough laughs to send this audience home very satisfied.

Remember the name Stephen K Amos - this comedian is going to make it big one day.

That's a joke of course (a bad one) as most of us know Amos is up there as one of the biggest names in the business of the funny.

Speaking of bad jokes, there are none of those at a Stephen K Amos show.

Whether he's talking about the AFL doping scandal, recounting the trouble he had buying alcohol in the Northern Territory or imitating his Nigerian parents, the audience laps up every word.

The best moments of the show, though, are the interactions with the audience.

A particular highlight was seeing Amos' bewilderment that a 12-year-old was at his show without a guardian, before scarring the child for life by telling him his parents were probably at home having sex.

The Spokesman heme tied in nicely at the end when Amos made the audience ponder who might be the spokesperson in their life.

The audience loved him and the feeling was mutual, with Amos at one point asking his assistant behind the curtain: "Can I please have a beer? I'm in a good mood."

So was everyone else.

Every British person I’ve asked knows who award-winning comedian Stephen K Amos is. It’s time everyone in New Zealand did, too. Stephen is back again for the New Zealand International Comedy Festival 2013, opening the festival with his new routine The Spokesman.

His show this year explores the idea of spokesmen in society and what it means to be one. Who are these people that issue press statements for various causes or when some entity is entwined in scandal? Who are they to tell us what to believe?

The Spokesman was entertaining and relevant, touching on current events, scandals and everyday life with a humorous point of view. A downfall for comedians can sometimes be that they do not tailor their show to their audience, especially when touring internationally. But having spent ample time performing at festivals in both Australia and New Zealand, Stephen used the rivalry between our countries to his full advantage by joking in a bloody good Aussie accent and mentioning Australia’s slowness to adopt marriage equality for gays in comparison to New Zealand, among other things, to the delight of the predominantly kiwi audience. Although, New Zealand also received its deserving fair share of ribbing for its provincial nature and first world problems.

The honesty of the show was very enjoyable. Stephen is openly gay and has no problem incorporating homosexual jokes or his experiences into his routine. Nevertheless, in The Spokesman he goes on to comically explain why he is not a role model or good spokesman for anything, including the gay community.

The major strength of Stephen’s shows is his masterful interaction with the audience. Many comedians just say jokes to their audience the whole time without any conversation, and that can work out fine as well. However, the level of engagement Stephen conjures up by interacting is what makes him really memorable. The fact that he is so willing to incorporate the audience, and thus unpredictable answers, into his performance displays his calibre. Stephen’s wit is quick, his timing instinctive and he is not afraid to venture off script into hilarious tangents. Potential audience members need not be afraid. Stephen may poke fun at a few in the front row, but not at all to the point of meanness. However, this is one comedian I have a feeling you would sorely regret heckling.

The only problem I had with the show was that the hour flew by and I didn’t want it to end. Stephen’s performance of The Spokesman is testament that you shouldn’t save the best for last – you put them on the opening night and the rest need to step up their game.

The Brisbane Comedy Festival began on Tuesday at the Brisbane Powerhouse. They launched with a bang by having one of Australia’s favourite British invaders, Stephen K Amos as the first comedian in the bunch.

Stephen K Amos has graced Australian television screens in Spicks and Specks, Thank God You’re Here and The Melbourne Comedy Festival. This all makes for a pretty high standard for him to live up to for his live show ‘The Spokesman’. Lucky for me, and the rest of the audience, he lived up to those standards.

Before the show began, the audience were seated and greeted by a piece of paper on their seat asking them to write down who they thought Stephen should be a spokesperson for and why.

Throughout the show it was easy to become charmed by Stephen’s laid-back nature (it was just him on stage dressed in jeans and a shirt) and his tendency to laugh at his own jokes (sometimes to the point where he would choke on his water). He held a continuing theme of spokespeople through the ages in his show. From Jesus to Barack Obama to… himself. His retellings of contemporary news items involving spokespeople are told with subtle humour and wit.

Some of his greatest comedic weapons are his family anecdotes, along the same vein of Eddie Murphy‘s in ‘Raw‘, his hilarious accents (he easily transitions from British to Aussie bogan, but not so easily to Thai) and his tendency to dance on the line of what is appropriate and what isn’t (towards the end of the show he had the audience participating in what could almost be described as en masse racism). Stephen K Amos uses the audience in his show whenever he gets the chance and during this performance I was one of the lucky audience members singled out thanks to my housemate.

The hour and a bit flew by watching Stephen K Amos. It was a thoroughly enjoyable night and I recommend that if you don’t get a chance to at least see Stephen K Amos, then at least try to get along to one of the many hilarious acts at the Powerhouse in the Brisbane Comedy Festival.