Rachel Galvo / Aurie Styla - Bobby Carroll's Live Comedy Diary

Written by: Bobby Carroll
Published: Wednesday 29th January 2025

A self-branded Shite Feminist, Rachel Galvo portrays herself from the off as an "unlikeable character". She is definitively "a bit much", Irish Catholic, and she openly acknowledges her well-heeled parents have paid for her success. Mum helicopters in the back row, advising and coaching her grown child in the interval, on a show she must have seen over 30 times. Galvo Jnr. claims she started performing comedy with this debut hour on the 2024 Edinburgh Fringe. If true, that is a trust fund busting costly open spot. Whoever fronts the cash.

The highlight was a decent communion-to-confession timeline. Galvo knows what a callback is even if her Les Mis one is rinsed well past the rule of three or any narrative logic. She jerkily shuts down banter she herself instigates by stating she is too self-absorbed to care. There's a couple of examples of how Galvo often betrays the imprecise tone of an unseasoned act. She clearly has sussed out what works for her but isn't judicious with when the tricks are utilised.

Is she a shite feminist? By Galvo's metric any man who attends or laughs must be outed as a foil for the audience. Even if they are sometimes the only one audibly enjoying her uncertain schtick. Yet she is frequently unsure of where the punchline is. The laugh point is under emphasised while the topper is given all the oomph. It meant a couple of times I was the sole laugher in the busy room. Because. I. Got. The. Intended. Joke. It probably isn't best practice to call out the brave soul in the Monkey Barrel who understood the material without hand holding just because he is unfortunately forty plus and male. Framing me as her brow beaten dad didn't generate any extra noise. So I kinda gave up on laughing, feeling my presence was being interpreted as intrusive, but still tried to enjoy the show.

If you've never been to comedy before, perhaps - big 'perhaps' - you might be impressed. Galvo kept the plates spinning for two 45 minutes sections with flighty pep and drama brat confidence; her sales were healthy. Markedly though we never got those around-the-rooms or rolling waves that Monkey Barrel 3 feels purpose built for. The targeted audience might look, sound and dress like Galvo but they were more discerning about what a stand-up tour should consist of. It is their hard earned £20 that bought the tickets after all. They never gave up on her though. I, for my sins, did.

Looking back over what I have written I do feel I have been a little begrudging towards someone who has the privilege to run before they have really got used to walking. And I may be betraying my own prejudices by taking statements Galvo has said at a comedy show at face value? But isn't success sweeter after the graft and the craft have happened?

Aurie Styla's show The Aurator sees the London big man on an ever expanding 100 plus date tour of the UK. Second stint doing the show in Edinburgh and he is teasingly perplexed by how much every city in Scotland seemingly slates each other. This was his in to much crowd work. It didn't go much faster or more furious than "Where you from?"; "How do you know each other?"; yet, he filled the stage with prepared anecdotes and off the cuff bits inspired by the answers. A people person, he relished vibing with the diverse room and it made the gig more of a lively conversation than a rehearsed monologue.

Most stand-ups would be terrified of that but Styla consumes the stage. Sure, his experience, courage and swagger can dominate any interaction, but what I was struck by was how considerate he was. Whether riffing with the couple who met at church, or regaling us with a tour interaction where some dickhead tried to out his boss to his family as gay as a prank, Styla is down to earth and on the level. Inclusive, open minded and inviting. Nobody is punched down at. Even two women who wanted too much attention. A lady named Dorcas has her own cross to bear in life but the other... imagine being white and from Dundee and attempting the Jamaican accent in any room in the 21st century?! Styla schools her playfully but not in a way that turns the rest of the fanbase against the loudmouth.

It can't all be bounce bounce bounce. Styla smartly takes a stool to centre himself and indicate he is moving into longer material. He closes the first half with his tales from cruise ship bookings. Wades around the geriatric generation gap and introduces us to the lube cabinet in the ship shop. He pitches the story with enthused bravura. He executes lovely face journeys and often treats us to full body physicality. No matter how clownish his act out, we are in zero doubt on any crazed move he breaks loose.

Styla owes a little to one of my childhood favourites; Eddie Murphy. The finger wags when he uses repetitions, and the eyebrow pops to feign surprise, brought me back to renting Delirious and Raw from the VHS rental shop back in the day. The heart is all his own.

Even when there was a two pepper heat to some of his material, you can see why Styla is a safe ticket with young couples, religious friends and even ancient mariners. He never steps near the edge and operates with flair away from it. Sure, some takes may be unchallenging and broad at times, but in the best way. Everyone will be entertained, no one in the room is left behind, no matter what their age or background. He pulls no punches, rolls with the random intimacies he encourages from the audience and leans deftly into his multitude of strengths. At an Aurie Styla show you feel like you've enjoyed something.

Styla's biggest risk was closing on a shaggy dog story about his and his girlfriend's adult son playing Mortal Kombat. The payoff is worth waiting for, but there is a softly spoken journey without too many crumbs along the way before he hits that crescendo. Other comedians wouldn't dare such a closer in such a lively, entitled room but Aurie had them eating out of his hand. Masterful entertainment.

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