I’ve Watched 50 Shows, But Am I Really Laughing?

We’ve reached the halfway point at the Edinburgh Fringe, where more than a third of the 3,600 shows are comedy. Rain is pouring as I hike up one of the city’s many hills to get to my 50th show of the festival. This is my second year on the panel for the Edinburgh Comedy Awards, whose best show prize is highly coveted. Previous winners include iconic figures like Stephen Fry, Emma Thompson, Al Murray, Bridget Christie, and Rose Matafeo. Serving on this panel means I get the golden ticket into the dingy rooms where unknowns become tomorrow’s stars before our eyes.

A comedian’s first hour is their chance to introduce themselves to the world. No one has done this with more flair than Abby Wambaugh in her enchanting “The First Three Minutes of 17 Shows” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★). It offers the beginnings of 17 different shows, each a unique chapter of Wambaugh’s life, including moving to the Netherlands, and experiencing pregnancy and miscarriage. It bursts with creativity and unexpectedness.

Similarly, Jin Hao Li, who describes himself as “made in China and marinated in Singapore,” delivers a surreal hour in “Swimming in a Submarine” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★). Using smart wordplay, he honors the siblings he could have had if his father’s sperm had swum a little faster. His demeanor is that of a grinning schoolboy, but his topics span army conscription and university romances, blending dreams and reality into a dizzying trip underwater.

Others use the stage to process trauma. Channeling Richard Gadd’s “Baby Reindeer,” Anna Akana’s debut, “It Gets Darker” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★), weaves together her sister’s suicide and her own encounters with a stalker she calls Daddy Reindeer. Dee Allum’s “Deadname” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★), about her coming out as a trans woman, plays as a farewell to her past identity and a celebration of her new self.

But the hottest newcomer ticket is Joe Kent-Walters. He storms onto the stage in “Joe Kent-Walters Is Frankie Monroe: LIVE!!!” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★★★), starting at 11:25 pm. Any tiredness I felt evaporates with his entrance. Dripping with Sudocrem used as white face paint, he embodies Frankie Monroe, an old-school MC of a Rotherham working men’s club. The next hour delivers bizarre, grotesque, unceasing laughs reminiscent of the League of Gentlemen and Johnny Vegas. We witness possessed puppeteering, foul rubber gloves, and a visit from Monroe’s rotten-toothed nephew, Brandy. It’s a nightmarish yet hilarious vision that will stick with you.

In the festival’s storm, I start to play fringe bingo: Hitler jokes are not uncommon. Some performers use their relationship with their parents as fodder, like Sarah Keyworth in “My Eyes Are Up Here” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★★). Autism has also been a central theme. In “Must We” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★), Pierre Novellie explores how his spectrum disorder affects daily life, from ordering large quantities of rye bread online to using food as a reward. Josephine Lacey’s “Autism Mama” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★) candidly talks about parenting her 17-year-old autistic son, blending education and hilarity.

Larry Dean, who recently confirmed his autism with his mother, turns this revelation into a touching performance in “Dodger” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★★). It’s a tender hour dedicated to his late grandmother, packed with neatly wrapped jokes and profound insights.

Like Dean, many comedians use the stage to analyze themselves. Dan Tiernan’s doubly funny “Stomp” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★★) sees him as his own punchbag, unraveling his struggles with gout, marijuana addiction, and dyspraxia. Colin Hoult’s “Colin” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★) similarly delves into his own quirks, celebrating what it means to be different.

Traces of Hoult’s style can be seen in John Tothill’s “Thank God This Lasts Forever” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★★), chronicling his time on a malaria trial gone wrong and suggesting we drink ourselves into oblivion to enjoy life. The show embodies joy and spontaneity.

Lou Wall’s “The Bisexual’s Lament” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★) provides momentary belly laughs through an unbelievable Facebook Marketplace dialogue but over-relies on recycled internet videos. Alternatively, Sophie Duker’s “But Daddy I Love Her” (Pleasance Courtyard, ★★★) displays her in full glory even if it lacks the sparkle of her previous appearances.

Olga Koch’s “Olga Koch Comes from Money” (Monkey Barrel, ★★★★) dives into her privileged Russian upbringing. Koch’s show is knotty but uniquely exposing, showcasing bravery even amid jeopardy.

However, bravery doesn’t always pay off. Alfie Brown’s “Open Hearted Human Enquiry” (Just the Tonic at the Caves, ★★) feels unfinished and self-indulgent. It clumsily navigates his use of the N-word during a 2015 set, failing to balance an apology with a case for his right to reply.

The fringe is a minefield of talent, filled with unexpected gems. This year, I’ve been moved, provoked, and thrilled more than ever. Yet, the wonder of the fringe is a mix of joy and frustration. Night after night, a future giant may be performing, unknown to the world, and even to me.

Source: The Guardian