Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle

Stew looks at patriotism this week, in particular our difficult relationship with the St George's flag and what it has come to represent. He's revered - and rightly so - for his lengthy, repetitive, borderline operatic gags but, unfortunately, it's questionable whether the 20 minutes or so spent relating a story about his cat - called Jeremy Corbyn - and an exhausting case of its violent diarrhoea is worth the investment. It all feels a bit leaden come the punchline. But even at his worst, he's still better than most.

Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle preview - Patriotsm

The most interesting point Stewart Lee makes in the third episode of his current series, subtitled 'Patriotism', comes at the start when he talks about the biggest problem the modern satirist faces. The news is in such flux, says Lee, it is hard to get a handle on it for comedy. And if Lee is having that problem, spare a thought for lesser mortals out there trying to monetize their social commentary.

"I assure you, within three minutes, on this television programme, on this stage, a Muslim will have been lampooned." Well, sort of. This is a Stewart Lee joint, after all: a safe space for a complicit audience well-versed in the man's ziggurats of irony and meta-commentaries of unending depths. This week, then: Islamophobia, a deft high-wire act, further riffing on everything from Quakerism to Dapper Laughs ("What kind of person gets dropped by ITV2? It's like being barred from a pub that's already on fire").

Stewart Lee talks comedy

Stewart Lee talks comedy, success and why stand-up is the only thing he ever wants to do.

TV preview: Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle, episode 4.2

Warning. This episode contains skipping. Sure enough, Lee suckered his TV viewers in last week with a relatively benign look at the nature of modern comedy and a few cheeky swipes at his fellow entertainers. This week he goes for the jugular, addressing the more tricky question of the rise of Islamophobia and the acceptability of jokes about religion. The skipping, inevitably, comes in a section about a different rise - the rise of observational comedy.

Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle roars back

Billed as addressing wealth, it was more specific than that: it was about Lee's wealth, or lack of it.

"No one is equipped to review me," says Lee, beginning the fourth round of his standup series. He's joking. Kind of. By now, he's basically Oscar Wilde: it's practically impossible to divine any meaning from his increasingly complex pose. Lee says he adopts a snobbish persona to make people "laugh in spite of me, not because of me". Hopefully, that's not a rare moment of earnestness: this is a show dominated by a commentary on audience reaction, real and imagined, that's unlikely to have anyone in stitches.

Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle review

Accused of intellectual snobbery, Stewart Lee hits back, pointing out that it's a valid performance device, under the theatrical technique of Brechtian alienation. Thus explaining himself and reinforcing the criticism in one kamikaze blow.

Stewart Lee interviewed

Stewart Lee is back with another series of Comedy Vehicle. He tells Simon Price his thoughts on Lenny Bruce, Boris Johnson and Jeremy Corbyn, swimming through piss, Brexit and the pitfalls of being constantly misunderstood.

Sublime stand-up from Stewart Lee

The finest half hour of comedy ever written and performed, in my opinion, was one particular episode of Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle.