While the Everyman abandoned attempts to ‘play on’ after a catastrophic power failure, down the road at the Phil Sarah Millican had no trouble shining the light on her newly-discovered domestic(ish) bliss.
‘Home Bird’ Millican is all grown-up. Well sort of. She’s bought a house, with an upstairs and a garden and a grab rail in the shower for her elderly relatives.
She’s learning to cook – Twitter followers will know she knocked up a late-night chilli when she got home from Liverpool, even after a snack of ‘posh’ pineapple in the interval.
And she’s let her ‘fella’ (fellow comedian Gary Delaney) move in. Hell, on a festive hiatus from the current 86-date tour she even married him.
This news leads to some genuinely emotional and heartfelt moments in the show, making you want to give the warm and engaging lass from South Shields a big group hug of shared delight.
And there’s a big but (careful – that could be construed as unnecessarily personal) she’s still not too grown up at 38 to talk about poo.
Or make repeated references to what she describes variously as her ‘nunny’ or, in a classic Cissie and Ada mime, ‘down there’, a challenging glint in her eye like a small child who has just learned a rude word and wants to see how far they can push it.
Is she becoming too mature to carry on this level of smuttiness? One suspects whether or not, she won’t stop, and in decade a menopausal Millican will delight in sharing many more wincingly personal moments.
Talking of parents, Millican paints a lovely picture of her own family that her audience will readily recognise and empathise with, as well as the mixed joys of house-training her cats – and her new husband, who is a constant presence throughout Home Bird.
There’s also plenty of engagement with the audience during the show.
And it’s pleasing that despite the celebrity which has come with her own TV series, Millican is still happy embracing the intimate surroundings of somewhere like the Philharmonic Hall rather than be persuaded into the echoing ‘hello Wembley’ relative sterility of an arena tour.
Read more reviews from the Echo's Arts Editor Catherine Jones