The trauma-dump as high art

John Tothill picks his comedy favourites

John Tothill is back at the Edinburgh Fringe – a year after his appendix burst while he was on stage at the festival. Here he picks his perfect playlist of comedy favourites

Colin Hoult: All of his videos on Mr Box’s YouTube channel

Colin Hoult is my favourite comedian and his gorgeous creation, Anna Mann, is a gift to the world.

His live shows brim with generosity, in the sense that it feels like he hosts you for an hour. It’s hard to explain, but it’s almost as if you leave his performances feeling like he’s tried to make you feel funny, as if the whole thing was one big conspiracy and you’re in on it.

There is no substitute for seeing him live, and his stand-up act is every bit as brilliant as his shows where he played Anna Mann. But, until he tours near you again, these improvised videos on Mr Box are the funniest things you can find on the Internet. I think they perfectly capture his talent for improvisation and his righteous delight in silliness.

Rachel Kaly: Hospital Hour

Rachel Kaly was my big discovery of last year’s Fringe. Her style elevates the trauma-dump to high art: there’s no one doing dark humour in such a loveable way.

In this clip, she flits between shock and suicidality with a knowing glint in her eye. I am addicted to her relationship with the audience, as she stares out at them and complains: ‘You guys think I’m mentally ill,’ before acknowledging she wants her weighted blanket to suffocate her.

On the one hand desperate for the audience’s approval and on the other hand totally exasperated with the world, I think she taps into the zeitgeist far more than most. I can’t wait to watch Hospital Hour again in Edinburgh this year.

Stewart Lee: A Pear cider that’s made from a hundred percent pears

Stewart Lee has made it impossible for young male comedians to gush about him without exactly conforming to an unbearable stereotype, but unfortunately I continue to be unbearably stereotypical in this regard and I’m incapable of change.

I think that this lengthy routine about a cider advert is one of many examples of Lee at his very best. Intellectual, absurd, aggressively highbrow and (sorry to say it!) perfectly structured, this excerpt makes me feel grateful to live in a world where you can buy a ticket to see Stewart Lee.

It’s little wonder how widely his influence can be felt among basically every comedian of my generation.

Kate Berlant: Banana phone

I am a devotee of Kate Berlant and Jacqueline Novak’s podcast, to a point where I’m not sure I would be able to manage without it anymore. I don’t understand how Kate Berlant makes comedy look so cool, but somehow everything she does is bizarrely chic even though, in these videos, she is literally talking into a banana for five minutes.

In all her output, her ad-libs are so quick and well acted that it feels like you’re watching not just a comedy show but a magic act, and I never miss her perform when she visits the UK. This video was the first I saw of her, and I’ve been obsessed ever since.

Dame Edna: What a stupid noise

Dame Edna Everage is a weird hyperfixation to have had as a teenager, but that’s where strange adults like me come from. I think this interaction with Martin Sheen encapsulates Barry Humphries’s unrivalled comic characterisation, his consistent critique of fame and class, and his amazingly sophisticated relationship with the audience. I feel very sad that I never saw Dame Edna live.

Barry Humphries is one of my father’s favourites comedians, and so I was immersed in his comedic voice from a young age. When Humphries died in 2023, I (absurdly) felt the loss quite personally, which caused me to rewatch all of his publicly available material.

Not all of Humphries’s output has stood the test of time, but Edna has, perhaps because the cult of fame and self-absorption she satirises is even more culturally pernicious now than it was then. Or maybe it’s not that deep: maybe there’s just something funny in watching someone so obviously highly intelligent dress and behave so ridiculously.

Cat Cohen: The Twist…? She’s Gorgeous

I saw Cat Cohen in 2019 at the Edinburgh Fringe, and it was the first show I ever saw that felt like it had been made specifically for consumption by me and my group of friends.

It was so of-the-moment, and spoke so directly to my generation, that her persona felt at once completely unique and yet totally familiar. She has a new show at this year’s Fringe, which I saw as a work-in-progress at the Soho Theatre earlier this year, and I can confirm it will be every bit as brilliant as her last two hours.

What I love most about Cohen is that, as a performer, she clearly just absolutely fucking loves it. And, sorry, but isn’t that so nice? To watch someone put on a damn show? To greet their adoring public with bright-burning joy? Get me on the front row, for Christ’s sake.