The only way I could love this incredibly raw, human, and insightful autobiography any more than I do would be for it to have a second volume. I listened to it, Evans narrating with skill, hilarity and a deeply touching humility and sincerity the story of his grindingly poor, misadventure-prone childhood and the forces which ultimately would shape his manic, world-conquering, play-the-fool comedy career. Having scaled unfathomable heights, including blockbuster Hollywood movies, television, and record-breaking live shows, he walked away from it all in 2014, still a relatively young man, to spend more time with his wife and daughter.

I’ll be honest, I liked but was not a particular fan of Evans when I downloaded this, but what I am is a sucker for comedians’ or comedic actors’ autobiographies. They make for a good listen while driving - interesting, usually funny, but light enough to let you multi-task. Plus, I remain endlessly fascinated by people who are naturally funny. I want to know where it came from…how did they come to be that way? How will they treat the story of their own lives? Is there more to them than the patter or the role?

I’ve read or listened to a few over the past few years. Some have proven disappointing, threaded through with arrogance or self pity. The ones I’ve enjoyed the most have either been tear-leakingly hilarious - a romp through well-told tales that let you in on something of the life behind the curtain, even if not all the way (Adventures of a Wonky-Eyed Boy - the Short Arse Years, Jason Byrne); or a judicious mix of stories hilariously told and a peeling back of layers to reveal either something of the mechanics or philosophy of comedy (Mack the Life, Lee Mack) or, more profoundly, something movingly human, honest and true. Billy Connolly’s Windswept and Interesting - another ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ listen, for it had to be a listen, it was Billy after all - was a rich sweep encompassing all of this and more.

Evans’ story is similar but more truncated, focused mainly on his childhood and early adulthood rather than the career that followed. It’s the story of how he arrived - clumsily, blindly, ineptly and certainly against all odds - at that astonishingly successful career. Moving and laugh-out-loud funny by turn, Evans shares his tortured progress, his fears and insecurities, his utter conviction that he is an unmitigated idiot who will never amount to anything, with an endearing mix of self-deprecation and optimism, peppered with effortless accents and impersonations of the cast of characters who wander in and out of his life, for better or worse. Memorably, and in no small part, this is a love story too. Evans’ recounting of how he met his wife, and the struggles they shared as two teens overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles, is worth the price of admission alone.

I’ve read that Evans decided to write this book as much for his brother, Wayne, as for himself, after the tragic early death of Wayne’s son. He wanted to get it all down - the tough but extraordinary childhood they’d shared. He’s led a quiet, private life since retiring from comedy at 50, showing a complete willingness to surrender the spotlight that used to have him sweating buckets (seriously, buckets: whether through nerves or sheer physicality - probably both - he used to sweat so much he had to throw his suits away). For that reason, I have no idea whether he ever does plan to follow up with that subsequent volume covering the career he was on the cusp of at the conclusion of this book. He comes across as someone deeply motivated by family, focused on the people he loves. Perhaps he doesn’t feel the need to dissect what followed. But if he changes his mind, I’ll be the first in line to hear more. ( )