Tom Wrigglesworth could be from absolutely anywhere: a circus, the local park, or another world entirely. His image ranges from regular man with incredible hair, to insane circus ringmaster dressed in purple and blue and green. Tom is endearing and accessible yet obviously intelligent, whilst often hinting at teetering on the edge of controversy, though he is always in full control.
A particular favourite example of this would be Tom’s material about his neighbour, Fatima, who wears a burkha. The point is that she covers her face and body so nobody else can see her, yet also wears a pair of glasses that enable her to see everyone else, a paradox in itself. It’s ridiculous, but it’s funny too: apparently you can only have one, religion or science, let’s not be greedy.
Wrigglesworth is a comedian with lots of observational material. What makes him stand out, however, is that he truly understands what it is to observe. He sees the things that absolutely nobody else sees, he makes things up, he connects the dots in a way that most wouldn’t think to. This is where observational comedy becomes an art form to me, especially considering that many of the anecdotes are unlikely to have actually happened and therefore rely on imagination alone.
I know I often compare comics to Paul Foot (aspects of them, of course, as it would be impossible to be anything like him as a comedian in his entirety due to his extreme quirkiness), but I will yet again draw a comparison. Tom reminds me of a slightly more put-together subtype of Paul, and that leads to almost sinister viewing (considering his style choice in the clip above).
Tom Wrigglesworth is a comedian who is interesting and interested, and there isn’t really a lot more you could ask of a performer.