How Michael McIntyre went from comedy superstardom to game show purgatory 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.
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.
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.
McIntyre was never cool, but now he’s almost radioactively un-chic, the stand-up equivalent of a Michael Bublé Christmas advert.
If comedy was indeed the “new rock'n'roll”, then Michael McIntyre was, for a hot second, its Elvis Presley.
