In The Fear, Alex Kealy addresses the huge issues that scare him, like death, the collapse of social fabric or the really big one – a random stranger thinking him impolite.

The cerebral comedian describes himself as ‘emotionally conservative’, itself a conservative description of his boarding-school-instilled repression. Opening up to audiences does not come naturally to him, and by his own admission, his preferred method of delivery is to cower behind the stage’s metaphorical fourth wall and lob jokes over it – even though, on an intellectual level, he knows that stand-up is more about confidence and connection than it is about content.

But in this show he’s trying to remedy that, at least a little, to talk about himself more. It’s new territory for him, though not, of course, for solipsistic Fringe comedians in general. So over the hour we tentatively learn a bit about his anxieties, his wedding and his undemonstrative mother, on whom he blames his inhibitions. 

Kealy is a podcast fan, and the formulation of his stories often feels like he’s guesting on one, with a conversational approach in which he wittily, but not especially urgently, tells everyday anecdotes about not recognising his wife’s new haircut, Toblerones in duty-free shops or parents’ poor phone etiquette. One particularly convoluted moment involves a lengthy description of a Netflix series to illustrate a metaphorical point that’s really not worth it.

Nothing will stop you in your tracks, and the stories only sometimes crystallise into a neat punchline, which is initially a little frustrating. Especially when his aforementioned over-sensitivity to what people think of him means he interprets an overheard word as a heckle and crashes the gig while he awkwardly deals with it (or rather doesn’t).

But we’re soon back on track and the underlying honesty of Kealy’s mounting tales builds a growing connection between the comedian and his audience as we get to know him, his married life, and his insecurities all the better. Plus the self-analysis starts to congeal around the show’s themes. It’s a slow build, but patience is rewarded, building up to a video finale containing too many jokes to take in, and which must have been labour-intensive to create.

Kealy’s transition to a more emotionally open comedian doesn’t yet feel complete, though the introspection certainly makes him more endearing than intellectual potshots alone.