The man who was the face of British stand-up has never been cool, but now his comedy is almost radioactively un-chic – and he only has himself to blame, writes Louis Chilton. If comedy was indeed the “new rock'n'roll”, then Michael McIntyre was, for a hot second, its Elvis Presley. During the Noughties British comedy boom, when stand-up suddenly became fodder for stadium tours and primetime TV roadshows, there was no one bigger – McIntyre’s inoffensive, observation-led, overwhelmingly middle-class routines took the nation by storm. Cut to 15 years later, and where is he now? Hosting savourless game show The Wheel on BBC One.
![[Down-at-wheel: Michael McIntyre hosting ‘The Wheel’ on BBC One]](https://static.independent.co.uk/2024/12/17/13/496476.jpg)
The Wheel – in which McIntyre corrals contestants through a quiz, and celebrity guests help them out – was, just a few short years ago, a key part of the BBC’s Christmas Day lineup. Now, it’s not even that, instead airing its series finale on the markedly less glitzy evening of 21 December. It’s been a pretty bruising fall from grace for McIntyre. He still performs to big arenas as a stand-up. He’s still a household name. But he’s abjectly absent from the cultural conversation. McIntyre was never cool, but now he’s almost radioactively un-chic, the stand-up equivalent of a Michael Bublé Christmas advert. But even in his pomp, McIntyre felt like more of a moment than a timeless talent. Where people might have watched George Carlin reel off his “seven words you can’t say on TV” bit, knowing instinctively this would be a routine that would be dissected for decades, I’m not sure anyone was thinking the same about McIntyre’s “man drawer” shtick. (It’s a drawer where men put things.).
