Glorious, victorious Eddie Izzard

My life, 2009: On the TV - downloaded episodes of David Cross's cult US 90s sketch show Mr Show. On the iPod (at least it's not a discman) - Pearl Jam. And live on stage - Eddie Izzard. If it's true your self image often sticks to that of your formative years I'm in the middle of a very nasty nostalgia fest. I might start fancying Christian Slater again, or wearing tie dye dresses.

So it wasn't the plan to go and see Eddie Izzard on his Liverpool dates last week. It all reminded me too much of the young me, sitting around at uni in Hull with my housemates, watching his show Glorious on video, yelling catchphrases like "I'VE LOST MY COMEDY" or "IT'S A SERIES OF SMALL WALLS" at each other. Time to move on and embrace the 21st century.

But as the dates neared, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss. It was Izzard who first tailored his act to an arena audience and I wanted to see how he did it with an inkling he'd still be the daddy of them all (possibly not difficult). I wanted to be in the same room as the man who'd taken it upon himself to run 43 marathons in 51 days (and will still do an "impromptu marathon" before a gig if the mood takes him). I even found his die hard belief in the fundamentals of the Labour party quite endearing. And his 'let's all work together in a big ball of Euro togetherness' ethos is so friendly, intelligent and open - I think I love him a little bit. I had to go, he was only down the road.

But arena comedy is dubious, and often dull. Would Izzard have some tricks up his sleeve? Of course he did. First of all was the set, huge Egyptian style pillars and screens that could have come from the stage of a large scale West End musical. It immediately evoked the themes he would touch upon during the night - life, the universe and everything. And nothing, of course. And monkeys, squirrels, giant squids. Biblical themes.The foundations of modern language. The most complex of theories turned into deceptively simple gags. The big set really helped to create an atmosphere, leaving Izzard victorious where other arena players, shoved on into the bare spotlight (and in some cases, should have been hauled off by the neck in a comedy crook) and left vulnerable in front of thousands.

The old trademarks, like scribbling imaginary notes to himself on his hand if a joke whizzes over the head of the crowd, are comforting. He even makes mention of his old beekeeping routine off of the 90s ("do beekeepers ever just suddenly freak out when they realise they're covered in bees?"), which was sweet. There's nothing topical, very little personal, just the workings of a unique mind thinking big (and little) things.

The adoring Echo Arena crowd may have been several thousand strong but despite that there was this feeling of having the man all to yourself. An adorable stage presence, for one night only, everyone wanted to be in Eddie's world, monkeys, squirrels, giant squids and all.