Natalie Palamides, Tom Lawrinson, Josephine Lacey, Andrew White - Mark Muldoon's Comedy Diary

Written by: Mark Muldoon
Published: Saturday 16th November 2024

If you're not familiar with LA clown Natalie Palamides, her rise has been quite something to behold. She won Best Newcomer in Edinburgh back in 2017 with her first show, Laid, a brilliant hour about a woman who lays an egg every day, but has to choose between raising it, or eating it. Outrageously, as we speak it's no longer available to stream on Amazon Prime, which almost ranks as the worst thing Jeff Bezos has done in the last month. Then came the 2018 follow-up Nate, where Palamides played a laddish man exploring issues of masculinity and consent. It was successful enough to wind up on Netflix (and stay there).

Now, after six years, we get show number three. And to an extent it's a natural evolution from Nate. WEER is about a couple - Christine and Mark - who would be perfect for an intense, toxic but thrilling fling. Unfortunately they're still together three years later, so the toxicity has now reached Chernobyl levels.

Here's the thing though: both Christine and Mark are played by Palamides, reviving the classic theatrical idea of playing two characters at once, two outfits on either side of your body, turning side to side during each interaction. Or as one critic put it: "it's like that thing where you pretend to make out with yourself, but elevated to Da Vinci like art".

And there can be no question that she commits to fully exploring that concept's potential. Her physical performance is one of the all time greats. But that's hardly the show's only strong suit: the script is not exactly shy on smart moments. The multiple costume designs are certainly impressively done. There are exquisite audience participation set pieces (one involving car keys springs to mind). On multiple occasions it feels like pure chaos is unfolding on stage.

As far as it's possible to determine, the 75-minute show is now a fair bit shorter and tighter than the frequently substantially-overrunning version that Edinburgh Fringe audiences witnessed this summer. Yet still, the second half feels less laser-focused. By this stage, most won't care. They'll be too in awe. The cartoon-ish dramatic climax might also not be to everybody's tastes, though the show appears to hint at that intent earlier on, via a revelation about the male protagonist's ancestry. Natalie Palamides stands amongst the very best of her generation, in terms of bold concepts and full-on commitment to seeing them through. WEER is easily better than its predecessor Nate, and that show was already commanding as hell. It's also more focused on raucous fun, taking a much lighter-touch approach to any hot button social issues of the day.

The only question left to be asked is if it could be a runaway commercial success in a larger West End theatre. If that's a little uncertain, there can be no doubt that its success would be deserving. For now, it's in London until November 30th. Though tickets are already running low.

Something more straightforward now. Which may come as a surprise, as not many fans of Tom Lawrinson would consider him a particularly straightforward comic. It's true to say, though, that his new show, Buried Alive and Loving It, generally adopts the strategies of mainstream comedy. For someone most would bill as an alternative comedian, Lawrinson demonstrates he can do accessible #relatable millennial humour, as he reflects on the experience of returning to your parent's home for a visit. It's at these moments when the show is at its best, alongside the sections when it slips into observational humour, due to Lawrinson's habit of alighting on topics nobody else in comedy is covering, such as Fred Flinstone and niche Reddit porn.

Then the show shifts into storytelling mode, and drops down a gear from 'great' into a cruising speed of 'solidly good'. You're certainly far from bored - as Lawrinson recounts tales from what was unquestionably an unusual working class upbringing - but you may find yourself missing the more nimble humour that preceded it. It's his persona, then, that keeps you feeling as though you're seeing a performer in the alternative comedy tradition. Fans may sense mannerism-overlap with fellow up-and-comer Paddy Young, which is no bad thing: Lawrinson is masculine, yet with a vulnerability, and an undoubtable (yet not overpowering) otherworldliness.

Lawrinson came to fame via online comedy, which is also true of Andrew White, who's probably best known for his supporting role on the excellent podcast Trusty Hogs. So it's a pleasure to see him take flight on his own solo tour, at North London's handsome comedy institution The Bill Murray.

This show, Young, Gay and a Third Thing, sees White attempting to decide what his 'third thing' should be, in order to ensure he fully stands a chance of making it in his solo comedy career.

There's plenty to love here, particularly in a storming opening section, as White takes aim at Russell Brand, his former agent and his own hairline. He acknowledges that as a gay, yet cis-gendered, white, upper-middle class man he's pretty low down the order of oppressed people in 2024 Britain. When he turns the subject of his comedy outwards, barely an area of southern England escapes unscathed.

The middle section of the show contains all of its more, well, middling material, as White attends football games and hardly succeeds in being the first person to point out that former talkshow host Ellen is now considered something of a workplace bully. The show's choice of running gag is also hardly inventive comic thinking, though it'd be difficult to argue its final payoff wasn't relatively effective. What you'll get from Andrew White, though, is charisma to burn and an eye for sharp punchlines - plus I've seen him marshall fantastic audience-interaction sections in the past, so it's well worth keeping an eye out on where he goes next.

Finally, let's firmly return to storytelling comedy. As opening gambits to shows go, "I taught my son how to wank" takes some, erm, beating. But that's very much the subject matter of Autism Mama by Josephine Lacey. By the end of an hour in her company, you'll not only have made peace with the fact she did so, you'll be cheering her on.

Autism Mama is one of those rare gifts of a comedy show that gives you a valuable insight into somebody else's fascinating lived experience. It is also, let's be very clear, frequently hilarious. Its stories cover her son - who has sensory processing disorder as well as what sounds like fairly severe autism - navigating sexual feelings and desire.

The show isn't particularly interested in gross-out humour, yet still, these tales certainly don't scrimp on the intimate details. It's a bit of a worry that all these revealing details could bring future humiliation or even bullying on her son if less forgiving peers heard about them. Though it's also impossible to deny the considerable social worth in these stories finding a wide audience. Tricky balancing act. Lacey doesn't indicate that she's changed his name in the show, or if he goes by a different surname in everyday life, both of which would ease concerns.

The joke-writing is occasionally a little underdeveloped, but Autism Mama isn't trying to churn out gag after gag. It's about bold and unique stories told with a confidence it takes many comedians far longer to acquire. Hysterical comedy that also serves a true social purpose. Lacey states she plans to tour the show in the new year. Worth following her on social media to find out when.

Read previous editions of this column (featuring Taskmaster: The Live Experience, Fern Brady, Maisie Adam, Nish Kumar and The Horne Section).

Mark Muldoon is also available on Instagram and Twitter. He's keeping an eye on you, Bezos, if you're reading.