Review of the final at London's Clapham Grand

I hadn’t been to a final of the LGBTQ+ New Comedian Of The Year competition since the very first, held in a small, packed, raucous  and sweaty Covent Garden venue.

Nowadays it’s in the prestigious Clapham Grand – a cavernous space for new acts to fill, made more challenging by the stop-start nature of the gig. Judges James Barr, Tia Kofi, Zoe Lyons and Jessica Fostekew offer super-supportive comments after each act (no Simon Cowell-style meanies here) and there are a couple of pick-ups for the TV broadcast, as the show will stream on Outflix later. Meanwhile, the likeable host Matthew Ali is good at keeping the show on track, but not so strong at mainlining energy into the room. Maybe they should have used Lyons for that…

First up is Rhys Thorne, heavily inspired by Julian Clary in his archly camp delivery that’s able to make an innuendo out of the most benign phrase. The winning approach elevates some pedestrian material – has every Welsh comic done a bit about microwaves allegedly being  ‘poppity-pings’ and jellyfish being ‘pysgod wibli wobli’ at some point? Yet gags about his cerebral palsy are inevitably more distinctive, and he’s a warm and charming presence.

Everyone knows about using comedy as therapy, but the single-named Esther uses therapy as comedy, mining her mental health sessions for material. She shares her directory of troubles and dark thoughts in a calm, comfortable delivery, and while her set would benefit from a few more punchlines, the audience are endeared by her presence and openness that belies the weighty subject matter.

He may start with some self-deprecating material about feeling inadequate among the beach-body hunks of Brazil, but Dominic McGovern finds higher status by punching down at musical theatre practitioners with some enjoyably withering barbs. He straddles the interface between cheeky and rude adeptly, the irony very apparent… especially when he claims that as a stand-up comic he’s a better catch that his doctor boyfriend. It’s a gaggy set, told with vim, and one of the night’s strongest.

There’s something a little old-school about Josh Sedman, although unfortunately that extends to some of his lines, too. Getting the vegetarians in the audience to identify themselves with a ‘woo’, then saying: ‘That was more energy that expected’ - that sort of cliché. But his Mr Entertainment sensibilities come into their own when he talks about his bald patch, starting with a witty commentary on his barber’s conceit that all was fine and culminating in some fine slapstick tomfoolery involving the solution.

How ironic that a comedian with no eyes has a great visual gag – not to mention  a unique point of view. Sydney May makes all the jokes no one else would dare about her disability, while also mining her unique experiences on everything from dating to audio descriptions. Her tight set was full of sharp punchlines, delivered with precision timing, making her a clear stand-out on tonight’s bill, and the one to beat in the competition. 

Non-binary Irish comic Ciara Barnes starts with an edgy IRA reference before mooing on to material about their own top surgery and trans men using their preferred toilets. These are not necessarily the easiest of topics, but this personable stand-up negotiates them with a robust mix of authenticity and silliness, including a couple of absurd images that will stick in the mind.

Jack Henry has a very quiet and low-key delivery, far from conducive to showing his material in its best light. Not that ‘light’ is the best word, given the content is notably dark, whether about the antidepressants he’s on or some very intimate surgery that might induce wincing if you think about it too hard. He has some decent jokes on these very specific and personal topics, but the more his real character emerges from the defensive deadpan, the better.

In an unfortunate bit of scheduling, Henry was followed by another low-energy act in the form of Sean Barnham. Much of the humour comes from the minimal emotion they put into phrases like ‘yas queen’ and ‘slay’ or apologising for getting ‘riled up’ when they raise their monotone by a fraction. By holding that line through mildly absurd material about off-brand budget breakfast cereals or the lyrics of Shania Twain, Barnham slowly brings the audience into their idiosyncratic orbit, though the punchlines remain rather too spaced out.

Finally, Chloe Reynolds, a trans woman two years into her transition, which she amusingly likened to a pub refit or an extreme midlife crisis. She offers a sly commentary on her experiences, very often about her fake breasts, which are as engaging as a friendly chat, if a little superficial,  but she builds momentum and forges an amiable connection who the audience. 

It wasn’t entirely transparent how the winner is chosen – for as well as the judges, the audience are all invited to vote online – but it was clear who the winner should have been, and May deservedly took the title. Although it’s a shame that organisers Comedy Bloomers weren't able to offer a cash prize for her, or for runners-up Barnham and McGovern, given the scale of this endeavour, built upon comedians’ talents.

May couldn’t resist another joke on winning, saying: ‘I can honestly say I did not see this coming,’ before adding more sincerely:  I’m beyond thankful for my awesome family and friends who have supported me from the beginning and for the unbiased strangers who somehow find me funny. 

‘This award means the world - not just as recognition, but as a reminder that laughter really does break down barriers. Comedy has given me a voice, a stage, and now, this surreal moment. Thank you for coming on this wild ride with me - I don’t know where life is going, but I can’t wait to find out!’

That journey is certainly off to a flying start. And here's an extract from her set:

Review date: 11 Jun 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Clapham Grand