Chortle editor Steve Bennett on Live Comedy Day

I’ve been reviewing live comedy for more than 25 years, which inevitably prompts two questions: ‘who’s your favourite comedian?’ – which I always find hard to answer – and ‘do you still enjoy it? – which is infinitely easier.

The genre constantly has the ability to surprise. Not least because it’s the most urgent art form – an idea a comic has at 7pm can be in front of an audience by 8pm – which makes it the most relevant, embedded in the culture of today, not of a few months or years ago when the idea for a play, film or TV show was first mooted.  Comedy is one of the most versatile art forms, too, with its most innovative exponents constantly finding new ways to keep it fresh.

Comedy has never been limited to the one-comic-and-a-mic model that’s its most prevalent form. But even that simple set-up allows for myriad possibilities, from creative (or stupid) wordplay, to elaborate surreal world-building, from trenchant social or political satire to the sharing of first-hand experiences.

The last one seems especially important. As an audience member I’ve heard about so many lives different from my own, so many different viewpoints. If there’s a liberal bias, politically, in much of comedy, it’s surely because of this openness to all (though even right-leaning comics have their own sub-circuit now).

Broadening the audience’s worldview doesn’t, on the whole, come from preachiness or big agendas, but from making a human connection through that most universal of binding agents: laughter. 

Anyone who has sat in a comedy club knows the communal buzz  when a room of strangers laughs as one. When it’s spontaneously generated from something happening in the room, that feeling is even stronger, but even with prepared materials, every night is different. Every fusion of comic and audience has its own alchemy, a uniqueness that also keeps comedy fresh for me after 25 years. The health benefits of laughter and such communal bonding have been well-documented – not that it ever feels like medicine.  

Sometimes comedy doesn’t work, of course – and that’s part of the highwire thrill of a genre that, at its best, has risk embedded in its DNA. But the best comics make it look easy, as if they are just shooting the breeze. Perhaps that’s why funding bodies have been reluctant to recognise comedy as an art form, as it doesn’t feel like comedians are doing effortful ‘art’ at all. That and outdated ideas that it is just jokes, not a vibrant form of expression in its own right.

Comedy may also be undervalued by the establishment because, at its grassroots, the genre prides itself on being slightly illegitimate, taking place in dim basements and pub back rooms rather than fancy theatres. But another way of putting it would be to say it’s embedded in the heart of the community.

It’s also accessible because of its price. A night at the theatre is still a substantial purchase for most. For around £20, maybe less, established club is likely to be serving up some of the best in the business. And if you’re up for taking a chance, you can see newer acts for a fiver or so. Yet on an industry level, it is becoming increasingly unsustainable to make these sums add up, especially for comics making the transition from amateur to pro, and double especially if they’re from a working-class background. 

Most British comedians are, by instinct, wary of boastfulness. But the genre is worth shouting about. The best individual comedians can and do come from anywhere in the world, but this country has the best circuit. I’d argue the Edinburgh Fringe is the key to that, keeping comics sharp and turning over new material every year or two to make their mark on this incredible and demanding creative furnace. But the fact that most cities are bursting with comedy nights is testament to how vibrant our scene is.

Tomorrow has been deemed Live Comedy Day to celebrate this. Venues from open-mic nights at the Bath Comedy Festival to TV stars at the London Palladium are taking part, representing the breadth of the industry. To urge you to support the initiative from the Live Comedy Association by going to a gig would seem like asking a favour. But honestly, it’s you who’d be benefitting by treating yourself to a fun, inexpensive night out.

As a Chortle reader, you probably already knew all this. But sometimes it’s worth reminding ourself what a remarkable comedy scene we have. And what better date than April Fools’ Day to do that.

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Published: 31 Mar 2026