Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

So You Think You’re Funny? picked ten finalists rather than its usual nine this year, and it’s hard to see who you’d have dropped if you had to, as they all brought something different to the table.

Most need more polish in the writing – no surprise, given this is a contest for the newest of the new comedians, with fewer than 15 gigs under their belt when they enter – but there was probably more stage presence on display than ever.

That certainly goes for Essex’s Chantel Nash, who jokes that she was brought up to have ‘the confidence of a mediocre white man’. She exudes a chilled presence, despite her pledge to try to be more edgy now she’s 30, but skilfully plays with the energy in the room, especially with the tale of her Dominican grandmother facing some harsh 1960s racism with the most fitting response.

 Elsewhere, she jokes about her family life – she’s mum to kids of four years and 18 months – with a pleasing playfulness, getting the gig off to a strong start.

With a gravelly, bored-sounding voice, Christopher Donovan plays on his mild-mannered, beta-male personality, giving himself the ironic nickname Mr Controversial, then immediately backing away from it. Calling himself a ‘unit’ is equally self-effacing.

He has a flair with words and describes how Magaluf – and its sun – is no place for him. Even less glamorous, he’s worked in a betting shop, which provides plenty of incidents worth sharing. Enough, indeed, to earn him second place tonight.

But that’s nothing as to the stories from Samira Banks, whose family arrived from the Middle East – she doesn’t specific exactly where – as refuges, with her father being trafficked. It can be a challenging topic to talk about, but Banks handles it lightly.

Routines about PornHub and being too old for Leonardo DiCaprio add an air of familiarity, which may be needed against the extremes of her family’s experiences. Yet, she ties the two together deftly. It was enough for her to be awarded the first prize by judges,

With a slightly spaced-out delivery, Alex Lennox admits that at 24 he still feels he knows nothing, a situation not helped by losing formative years to lockdown. He’s had various jobs and is an amateur boxer, giving him a bit of an insight into the toxic masculinity of the likes of Andrew Tate. Although he doesn’t quite have the chops to navigate a routine that creates some tension in the room.

Sophie Garrad has two sides to her personality, which she doesn’t fully resolve in the image she projects, but which offers huge potential for comedy. She takes to the stage in a sparkling tiara and pink, frilled satin outfit a little like pyjamas. She’s a posh princess, you see, privately educated and disdainful of others.

However, the situation is complicated as she explains that her father was an East End gangster and bigamist, and she has a rich store of tales from that  chaotic upbringing. There’s a lot to draw on here, but the messaging sometimes gets confused – such as gagging in disgust at the mere thought of inherited wealth, but in the sort of supercilious RP voice that you would expect to be scornful of the poor. But she’s definitely got a cracking Edinburgh debut in her, once she finds the right tone.

Cawyn Blayney conjures up some delightful images of growing up in the remote Welsh countryside near Carmarthen, being such a rural naif that a second flavour of Doritos was a revelation.

His observational routine recalled the likes of the playground game British Bulldog and men’s all-in-one gels compared to women’s array of products – not the most striking of premises, But he’s a strong phrase-maker with plenty of memorable twists of language in his charming set.

Indian comic Archit Goenka starts by offering a fairly typical immigrant’s eye view of the UK, a country that’s been his home for eight years, recognising that it is something of a shithole with a drinking problem.

He displays more bite when he jokes about colonialism, is cheekily provocative when speaking about reclaiming racial slurs, and has his own story of verbal abuse to share. But almost a big a crime, at least in the way he tells it, is mulled wine…

Lizzie Norm describes herself as ‘frumpy’ and offers a good dollop of hospitable, homely Lancastrian charm. In her head, this former librarian is young and stupid, in real life she’s 53 and should know better.

 She has daft jokes about ghosts or why she needs large pockets in her cardigan – of course she wears a cardigan! – but it’s not all gentle. There’s a bit about porn featuring ‘randy dykes’ that benefits from her soft and personable delivery. Judges awarded her the bronze on the night.

At 21, Dublin-based Cormac Sinnot has an appealing air of nervousness redolent of Sam Campbell’s early demeanour. He talks about paranoias and describes being ‘a pretty sheltered kid’ growing up, which informs his somewhat otherworldly viewpoint today. The spirit of Irish whimsy is strong in him.

Finally, Kent’s Lauren Carroll, self-deprecatingly confessing that being a waitress at the age of 26 does not show she’s winning at life. She talks about having a difficult childhood and escaping to the fantasy world of The Sims 2. But while most of her schoolfriends tortured their avatars, Carroll nurtured hers – you don’t need a therapy qualification to see the link. 
It’s not surprising her comedy touches on some dark material; she brings up suicide ideations without killing the mood, but the child abuse line she ended on was a stranger, less comfortable note.

Still, compere Maisie Adam was on hand to raise the mood and fill the time while judges deliberated and chose Banks as the competition’s 36th winner, following in the footsteps of Tom Allen, Peter Kay, Lee Mack and Aisling Bea.

Review date: 26 Aug 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett