It's not just the surreal ramblings, or the crazy juxtapositions (the raptor caught speeding by the police, the chicken with the trumpet on its head, the cow struggling not to throw up while chewing on food retrieved from its fourth stomach) or the musing on the process that sometimes leads down blind alleys which only a mimed burst of a bazooka can explode, it's the whole glorious combination. I've already, while reading press cuts, felt a peculiar stab of disappointment on discovering that he likes big-breasted women. In the dressing room (all done up with Moroccan lanterns and embroidered cushions to look like some Aladdin's cave) Izzard is being genial and offering drinks. "Billy Connolly talked about wanting to be windswept and interesting.Most men who had just wowed a crowd of 13,000 might want to relax with their nearest and dearest, or at least their coterie, but Izzard is making small talk with a bunch of strangers. So is he, I ask, eyeing the bowl of muesli and yoghurt, as disciplined in every area of his life? If you see someone like some kid at school, who used to do this, or experiment with whatever substance, or were into punk, I thought that was interesting, and I didn't really want to break all the rules.It's hard to get anyone to say a word against Eddie Izzard. And so, clearly, do the 13,000-odd fans who have poured in to Birmingham's National Indoor Arena to see him on a rainy Tuesday night. The man he has hired to give massages to his staff and crew love him.Driver explained that she previously kept his identity quiet out of respect for his privacy, but said, “I don’t need to protect him anymore. He’s a grown-up.” PHOTOS: Best and Worst TV Dads “We weren’t together and he wasn’t directly in the business, so I chose to protect him and not have a rain of publicity,” she continued.
Some even claim that Izzard is the father of Driver's son, Henry, born in 2008.'I worked my arse off, but I was living in Montmartre, rehearsing in the Jardins des Tuileries, living the Parisian life.I had my passe Navigo [Paris’s version of our Oyster card] and I can make jokes about Le Marais,’ he tells me.On screens on both sides of the stage, there are Twitter messages, sending good wishes from around the world. As Izzard bounces on to the stage, accompanied by the kind of strobe lighting you'd expect in a rock gig, he looks entirely relaxed.In the seats around me, people are nursing their i Phones, ready to point and shoot. He's in "boy mode" tonight, in jeans and a jacket and just a touch of mascara.