Jack Whitehall is sitting on a sofa, drinking coffee and occasionally munching on an almond biscuit. It’s the morning after the final date of a 55-night stand-up tour, which came to a rather underwhelming close at the East of England Arena. “The last event they had in there was the Peterborough biscuit festival,” he explains. “There was no dressing room or toilet backstage, so I had to use this weird box in a dog ring that was over the way. It was the most depressing end to a tour I’ve ever had.”
He has found that a sense of emptiness generally follows the buzz of being on stage each night, bringing the chance to reflect on the more embarrassing moments. “Maybe I’m two years older, or have drunk too much, but I had maybe four times on stage where I completely blanked and I didn’t know what was next or where I was in the show; one in particular in Brighton where I just completely forgot. It’s...
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