Comedy Review: Armageddon Outta Here
May 31st 2026
The Norbury Theatre – Main House
If there were ever a show that perfectly embodied the spirit of the Rik Mayall Comedy Festival, it’s Armageddon Outta Here.
The premise is deceptively simple: an asteroid is heading for Earth and humanity is running out of time. Naturally, instead of emotional goodbyes, we get monks awaiting divine intervention atop a mountain, a hilariously doomed last-ever gig erupting into a crowd-rousing musical number, and perhaps most memorably, a grotesque yet somehow ingenious Nativity scene that has to be seen to be believed.
What makes Armageddon Outta Here such a riot is its refusal to stand still. One sketch crashes into the next with mounting absurdity, never once losing momentum. There’s something gleefully reckless about the whole thing, like those involved decided subtlety simply wasn’t the point and committed fully to the chaos.
Tom Johnson emerges as a comic Swiss Army knife. Writer, performer, physical comedian, character actor, he seems capable of doing everything at once. One moment he’s delivering well-crafted character work, the next he’s hurling himself headfirst into slapstick, his face twisting into expressions so ridiculous they deserve separate billing. And if you need any indication Johnson is a talent worth watching, even comedy legend John Otway was spotted in the audience.
But Armageddon Outta Here is far from a one-man show. Rob Glenister matches Johnson beat for beat, every bit as committed to the madness and brilliantly funny in his own right. The pair bounce off one another so effortlessly they feel like what might happen if Morecambe and Wise became punks, armed with hammers and complete disregard for personal safety. Their chemistry keeps the whole show fizzing with energy, and the audience laughing almost non-stop.
And just when it feels like the evening has pushed its chaos as far as it possibly can, the show somehow finds another gear…
Nothing prepares you for the finale. A 24-piece brass band suddenly appears as Johnson and Glenister re-emerge in tuxedos, battering one another with frying pans and cricket bats while the stage disappears beneath strewn props and collapsing set pieces. I sat there wide-eyed, cheeks aching from laughter, wondering whether I was watching theatre, a bizarre hallucination, or anarchy unfold in real time.
Most importantly, though, it felt completely committed to making people have a good time. And that, it absolutely did. Hats off, gentlemen… I can’t wait to see what comes next.
Words: Gracey Merritt
Photo’s: by Chris Roberts