Review: Great Yorkshire Fringe, Tony Slattery, City Cruises, York, July 26

A STORM of Biblical proportions was brewing as we boarded the boat at King’s Staith with our very own Noah, Tony Slattery, steering us through his ark of comedy.

We boarded the top deck and cast off as guest captain Slattery pointed out familiar landmarks and little-known points of interest. “There’s a brutalist Sixties' building, there’s a church over there, the art deco wonder of the old York Herald; of course it’s a bar now, so not a lot has changed. Aviva, that’s insurance, let’s hope it falls into the sea.”

Slattery likes to share the love; as we cruised past a walker, he was hailed in a friendly manner: “How many dead puppies have you got in that rucksack?”

Torrential rain put a stop to that kind of banter as we decamped to the lower deck for a Q&A. “Ignore what the captain said and act like you are on the Titanic and panic down those stairs.”

His live impro feeds on others and happenings for prompts, and his maiden boat show was a gift. “Do you drive?” Answer as the boat starts to nosily turn: “Why, do you want me to take over?”

Outside, drum rolls of thunder applauded his patter and he touched on the glittering career he once had following his presidency of the Cambridge Footlights, the Perrier Award with his pals Stephen Fry and Emma Thompson and Who’s Line Is It Anyway?

He’s kind while taking the mick, somehow vulnerable and wired. Despite his rambling and incredibly witty, off-course direction, he steered us to our berth, leaving us a little unsteady and emotional on dry land.

Catherine Turnbull