The Debuts / Jack Skipper / Andrew Doherty - Bobby Carroll's Fringe Diary

Written by: Bobby Carroll
Published: Thursday 8th August 2024

The Devil's offer of the Edinburgh Fringe is that with unequalled exposure comes intense scrutiny. The rewards promised to only a few should not share a ring with the weight of being assessed, ignored, categorised and ranked for an entire month endured by all. Yet do. I wonder how many debuting acts at this year's Fringe watched Stuart Laws' documentary The Debuts as part of their final prep?

The new hour long documentary perfectly captures the grind of performing your first full hour in August. Following Amy Gledhill, Sikisa, Lily Phillips, Josh Jones and Anthony Devito over their 2022 runs, Laws has unparalleled access and an intimate understanding of his five performers' overlapping headspaces. The chase for sold out audiences and awards glory, while maintaining relationships, proves a gripping psychological thriller. Laws cleverly never shows his subjects' material, or their real lives back home, meaning the uninitiated have to judge the competing stand-ups on their personalities and fragile humanity. Backstage, industry bars and cell like student digs are his stalking ground.

As a writer about comedy, it was the frequent discussion and push back against reviews that piqued my narcissistic interest. Watching comedians actively disagree with one word in an otherwise glowing write-up or have a crisis of confidence over a lonely man with a blog's blurted opinion felt particularly abrasive. Heavy hangs the crown of those of us with our sticky little graspers stretched out begging for free entry to hot tickets. I guess nobody relishes seeing an external perception of themselves in definitive black and white. Or HD.

My takeaway was that comedians want reviewers in, but only if they choose one act per festival and write in 78 point font "THIS IS THE BEST COMEDIAN THAT EVER LIVED. TOO FUNNY." And then not type another syllable about anyone else after this one anointed god. Not particularly realistic. We have to shade what we loved with what was also noteworthy. Even with the positive bent British Comedy Guide tries to shine on all shows we enjoy, there's bound to be the occasional sentence that doesn't chime with the stand-up's own self-perception. And yes, describing a show also means sometimes detailing what a performer wears. Especially if that performer chooses to wear exactly the same fit every single night. That's a stylistic choice and as open to dialogue as accent, timing, subject matter, space, audience response and quality.

Keeping in mind just how many fresh faces are about to embark on a 26 day long walk of criticism, knock backs, stony faced relatives in the front row and award panel devastation, here are some first or second timers I caught before the initial big weekend... and nothing but good words about their promising hours.

Derek Mitchell's debut Double Dutch is one of my early hot tips of this summer. He has the anarchy of a Rik Mayall, the fizzing likeability of a Martin Short and the vocal pageantry of a Trevor Noah. Stereotypical accents overload. Being nationalistically fluid is explored at full volume and extreme tempo in this superlative character comedy show. Mitchell is a supernova of energy and if he goes at his material at the sheer pelt I saw in preview he might be exhausted come September. Or this festival's breakout star?

Amelia Bayler is a cult fave on the Scottish scene and wowed many visiting outsiders with her debut outing last year. She sets herself the very self-aware title of Easy Second Album for this new hour. Scatty yet spectacular, there's something ridiculously appealing about rock n roll daftie Amelia Bayler. This biographical show re-appropriates a lot of musical styles and cool-as-fuck character building moments. A real sweet and sour mix of naff and cool, if you are looking for unabashed fun, Bayler is your huckleberry.

Croydon bloke Jack Skipper is a former carpet fitter turned influencing sensation. Expect to hear your mum talking about seeing him on the telly very soon and your sister already fancying the forearm tats right off him. His statement of intent show, Skint, is a mainstream delight. There's not a lot more here than some joke focussed routines elevated by a boost of unforced personality. Fans of Micky Flanagan, Kai Humphries and Jacob Hawley will lap up the authentic tone. Unlike a lot of internet breakouts turned stand-ups everything was kosher, all original, no borrowed gags.

Skipper's nostalgia stuff on one quid caravan holidays and noughties nightclubs rang true. Hit home hard. He is also quite adept at putting the ball in the hole with some cheeky mugging. It is always a joy to witness a stand-up chiming with a Fringe crowd without any pretentions. Relaxed in his enviable comedy chops. An hour bristling with credibility and the credible desire only to entertain. He guarantees us he won't make us think but who ever has left a comedy show saying they "were rolling around on the floor thinking?" Great point.

Andrew Doherty's Gay Witch Sex Cult is a shrill trip. Possibly the buzziest preview show I have ever been at. Not only did the sold out audience clearly want to be there but a near equal gaggle of techs and ushers tried to get in on their Pleasance passes. An act of futility. Imagine a very camp Inside No. 9.

A slut twink estate agent travels to a cursed island as much Silent Hill as Susan Hill. The one man character piece is pretty purposely vacuous but Doherty's commitment to the bit kept the room enthralled. One late night lady in the row in front of me nearly shat her pants over a lighting change. The ambitious hour works on many levels. Horror and comedy are both genres that demand a reaction. Doherty blends both with an assured skill.

Bella Humphries' Square Peg starts with quite middle of the road, sweetness and light tales of moving to Wales and ends with a howl of discontent against misogynist double standards that it is difficult not to have an emotional response to. Detailing her self-diagnosis with PMDD and her struggles to educate the medical establishment of the root of her suffering here is much biographical material which needs a comedian of considerable passion to hand hold a crowd through. A lot of information and anguish. Humphries is declarative and confident but she does have to power through a few dense, dry segments. The final 10 minutes gets the balance right between anger, exposition and bloody gags. She probably should give herself a smidge more air to let the funny breathe, even in those bleaker moments. I hope this skilled performer finds her audience with what is a massive big swing for a debut.

Runi Talwar's debut at the Pleasance Bunker One is a slick affair. Inoffensive yarns paced by steady punches. Named after the sun and prescribed with astrological bad luck from day one, Talwar travels the world in the pursuit of love and a better life. He finds mild peril and a level of racism so innocuous that even he isn't sure if it is actually motivated by prejudice. The tightest, gag heaviest script of the newcomers I've enjoyed and a good window display of the Hindi / Kiwi / Aussie comic's nascent star potential.

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