Finding Comfort in Not Quite Fitting In: Stuart Taylor's Odd Man Out
There's something profoundly reassuring about discovering you're not alone in feeling alone. Last night at Theatre on the Square, Stuart Taylor delivered exactly that kind of comfort wrapped in an hour of sharp, clever comedy that left the audience both lighter and somehow more grounded.
Odd Man Out is Taylor's exploration of all the ways he doesn't quite fit the mould, and in doing so, he holds up a mirror to every person in the audience who has ever felt slightly out of step with the world around them. Which, let's be honest, is all of us at some point or another.
What struck me most about the show wasn't just the laughter, though there was plenty of that. It was the underlying message about the courage it takes to exist authentically in spaces where you don't quite belong. In a world that increasingly demands we package ourselves into neat categories and perform confidence we don't always feel, Taylor's willingness to stand on stage and celebrate his own oddness feels almost revolutionary. He talks about imposter syndrome not as a weakness to overcome, but as a shared human experience that deserves acknowledgment and, yes, a good laugh.
The comedy itself is wonderfully varied, which I think is part of what makes Taylor so accessible. His gentle self-deprecation never tips into self-pity, and his dad jokes, while groan-worthy in the best possible way, are delivered with such genuine warmth that you can't help but be charmed. He's crafted a likeable stage persona that feels less like a performance and more like sitting down with someone who just happens to be really good at making you laugh about the absurdities of everyday life.
But here's what I wasn't expecting: the magic tricks. In a landscape where comedy shows can sometimes blur together, Taylor's decision to weave magic into his set is inspired. It shouldn't work, this combination of stand-up and sleight of hand, but it absolutely does. His patter during the tricks is fantastic, full of the same observational humour that runs through the rest of the show, and his enthusiasm is genuinely infectious. You can tell he's having as much fun performing these moments as we are watching them. It's this willingness to do something different, to risk adding an unexpected element, that elevates the show beyond a standard comedy night.
The crowd work was another highlight. Taylor reads the room with the skill of someone who has been doing this for a long time, adjusting his energy and timing to match what the audience needs. When latecomers arrived, instead of awkwardness, he turned it into a moment of shared comedy that everyone, including the embarrassed arrivals, could enjoy. There's a generosity in that kind of performance, a holding of space for others that mirrors the show's broader themes about making room for people who don't quite fit in.
As someone experiencing Stuart Taylor live for the first time, I was particularly impressed by his approach to South African comedy. He brings local flavour and context without relying on lazy stereotypes or tired tropes. The humour feels specific and authentic while remaining accessible. The show ebbs and flows naturally, building energy in some moments and pulling back in others, creating a rhythm that keeps you engaged throughout.
In our current moment, when division seems to be the default setting and everyone is expected to pick a side, stay in their lane, or conform to increasingly rigid expectations, there's something deeply needed about comedy that celebrates being different. Taylor's show reminds us that the places where we feel like outsiders, where we don't quite have it all figured out, are often the most interesting parts of who we are. The quirks and oddities we try to hide or smooth over might actually be worth celebrating.
This is comedy as therapy, but in the best possible way. Not the kind that makes you cry and confront your deepest traumas, but the kind that leaves you feeling lighter, more connected, and maybe a little less alone in your strangeness. I left the theatre feeling like a million bucks, albeit with slightly sore ribs from laughing. There's something to be said for good, clean fun that doesn't compromise on intelligence or heart.
If you're looking for an evening that will make you laugh while quietly reminding you that it's okay to be the odd one out, that there's strength in acknowledging when you feel out of place, and that sometimes the best thing we can do is embrace our peculiarities rather than fight them, then Stuart Taylor's Odd Man Out is exactly what you need. In a year that has asked so much of all of us, an hour spent laughing at the beautiful absurdity of being human feels like exactly the right prescription.
Odd Man Out is on at Theatre on the Square until the 23rd of November 2025. Get your tickets here.