Big show or little show

Written by: Si Hawkins
Published: Tuesday 27th September 2016

A few weeks ago an old mate asked if I fancied going to see a big, popular British comedian at a big London venue, which is always a brave question to ask someone in the comedy business, as it can look like you're angling for free tickets, even if you aren't. Quite honestly, though, I wasn't keen.

And that's not because it would've been a bit of an effort getting those free tickets, either (that was only part of it). Perhaps it's a side-effect of seeing loads of comedy, but generally I'd much prefer to watch someone I've never seen before do an hour in a pub attic or an arts theatre than a big act do a long show in some hefty concert venue. Not always, but often. It's definitely worth hunting out the hidden treasures.

If you're anywhere near London, in particular Autumn is the perfect time to catch acts who wowed the Edinburgh Fringe critics a few weeks earlier. Or didn't, but are worth seeing anyway. Indeed, even hugely-popular comics are keen to steer people towards smaller shows. I've just come across an old Edinburgh Fringe interview with Susan Calman where she urged punters to play Brochure Roulette - which is like regular roulette (if you don't know what roulette is, you can play it at this operator) - but uses the Fringe Guide instead of a wheel: take a punt on a random act and see what happens. There's no online software, you'll just need a pin or pointing finger.

I always wind up seeing a varied mix in Edinburgh because I get sent to random shows, and it's the new-to-me people that often stick in the mind. Partly it's the thrill of discovering someone, and that's happened at regular multi-act clubnights round the country too - it's often the comic halfway down the bill that gets you gabbling excitedly afterwards.

A lot of this is down to expectation, of course. We expect a headliner to be good; the support acts, not so much. That's also why Edinburgh's free fringes have taken off so dramatically in recent years: pay good money for a ticket at a major venue and there's a certain assumption of competence, however low-profile the performer may be. Wander into a free show and all bets are off, even if it's someone fairly well-known. The mood at free gigs tends to feel more chilled beforehand - from the audience's side of the stage, anyway.

As well as the expectation, it's the energy. I did actually go to a sizeable tour show by a big TV comic recently, which I'd had pretty high hopes for. And it certainly wasn't bad, but, lordy, it was low-wattage. Perhaps that particular show's tone was actively tailored to a slightly older, provincial audience, but the pretty-famous fellah on stage looked thoroughly bored, in truth.

That's why, whenever anyone asks me for advice about what regular comedy shows to check out in London, I'll generally recommend one of the new-material nights, like Old Rope: there you'll see newer acts and household names, all emitting similar levels of nervous energy as they try out stuff that could equally take the roof off or die a horrible death. It's also the perfect place to visit if you're a stand-up just starting out - watching a big name fail miserably with a joke makes your own clunkers feel a whole lot better.

Stand-up, then, is a bit like jazz (hear me out, sax-haters) - some people prefer to see a well-known artist crank out well-honed stuff in a big comfy venue; others want people pushing the boundaries in a basement. Fun for the whole family. Unlike jazz.