Mary O'Connell reappraises what she wants out of the festival

‘Oh my god, you’re performing at the Fringe this year? Are you excited?’

‘No.’

I hate to be negative. That’s a lie, I love to be negative, it’s like my whole thing. Mary O’Connell, infamous party pooper, that’s what they call me. I’ll be straight with you, it is hard to be enthusiastic about what is essentially a bad business decision, so I’m not going to be. I will however be enthusiastic if we take the business side out of it.

My Fringe show Dilly Dally is about not being where you want to be in life so I feel it’s apt to talk about how the Fringe can be massively disappointing if you go into it expecting a traditional form of success. 

Let’s say a traditionally successful Fringe looks like you selling out your entire run before most people have even bought their train tickets; you get amazing reviews; you win an award for having the most good reviews and on top of all that you even make some money. 

Yes all of those things would be nice, and it does happen like that for some people. But for most of us comedians, the Fringe is a much more complicated beast. For most of us the Fringe is more like an absent father that you only see once a year, and while you do enjoy sitting in the warm glow of his attention that you so desperately crave, he does still manage to make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made, including going to visit him in the first place.

You might think, ‘Why bother with this deadbeat dad? Why not cut him out of your life entirely?’ 

‘Um, because he’s my dad. He’s one of the reasons that I exist.’

Like I said, it's complicated.

I have to acknowledge that the Fringe is one of the reasons that I exist as a comedian, but I’ve been disappointed there as well. In order to avoid that disappointment we have to reframe what having a ‘successful Fringe’ means and make it specific to us 

What a successful fringe looks like for me specifically

• I perform a show that I’m really proud of
• Black people come to watch my show - the festival is notoriously white in terms of performers and audience so I’m always super chuffed when POC audience members find me
• I look really cool doing karaoke one night - I’m a shamelessly good singer and the Fringe is where I allow myself to show off 
• An audience member shouts my material at me in the street like I’m a famous person who has a catchphrase
• People compliment my outfits 
• I don’t lose my voice
• I sit in the audience of a show that only I seem to be laughing at but through my persistent and obnoxious cackling I get the whole audience on board
• I only have two breakdowns
• I get seven hours sleep three times
• Someone reviews me and describes me in a way I’d never considered before 
• Someone I respect watches and enjoys my show 
• I don’t smoke or vape at all
• Someone recognises me when I’m stood next to my poster waiting for someone to recognise me
• I have a fling that doesn’t cause super long-lasting emotional damage 

I suggest everyone make their own personal Fringe success list and try to take the ‘traditional’ forms of success out of it. I think it’s pointless trying to measure success at the biggest arts festival in the world in a generic way. 

I’ve had Fringes where if I made enough money in my bucket to buy dinner and some drinks, I considered it a success. Yes the bar has been raised since then but I haven’t forgotten that time. 

Even though I am naturally a negative Nancy, I bet I can put a positive spin on your Fringe. So you’re sharing a room with another person even though you’re old enough to rent a car. So what? Last month you were complaining you were lonely. Think about how much you’ll appreciate your alone time when you get back home!

For me doing the Fringe is like doing exercise, more specifically a marathon. Now I’ve never run a marathon, I’ve never been that bored and desperate for attention (give it time), but I do exercise. It’s not something I could say I enjoy doing, but I never regret it. I know that it's good for me and it makes me stronger. You’re always glad you exercised. That’s how I feel about the fringe. Do I feel panic and dread while I’m putting on my trainers? Aka writing and working on the show, yes. But I never regret doing it.

Some actual tips for having a successful Fringe 

• If you can hack it, do a second show, maybe a compilation show on the Free Fringe, you can actually make a bit of money that way
• Do things to get a bit of buzz, try and market your show in an innovative way, there are a dangerous amount of items you can print your face on
• Perform in other people’s shows, compilation stand-up shows, do a guest spot in a play or a panel. Push yourself outside of your comfort zone, perform in a way you don’t usually perform, you never know who’s going to be in the audience

I think the only person that makes proper money at the Fringe is the guy who owns the crepe van outside Pleasance Dome. Sure I’ve made money at the Fringe before, but it wasn’t ‘crepe money’ I have to be more realistic. 

A successful Fringe looks like surviving the marathon. Even better if you manage to have fun while doing it. Some people just visit the Fringe and they’ll talk about it for years. As a comedian you get to perform there. This is my second stand-up hour and I’m always surprised and grateful that people specifically come to watch my show. That feeling will always be priceless, good thing it is, because I’m not making ‘crepe money’ over here.

P.S I would never compare my actual real-life dad to the Fringe. My dad is the best and even more present in my life that the Edinburgh festival

• Mary O’Connell: Dilly Dally is at the Pleasance Courtyard Attic at 7.15pm.

Published: 27 Jul 2025