Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Mexican-American comedian Nick Hornedo tells us he’s not a ‘going into a bar and hitting on chicks’ kinda guy, long after we’ve all figured that out for ourselves. 

In Watch This When You Get Home, the mild-mannered stand-up describes himself as ‘yearny’ not ‘horny’, revelling in the romanticised idea of himself as a man with an unfulfilled longing for a crush, the main character in a moody indie romcom.

For him, as with most people, such feelings were at their peak in high school where the stakes and the unrequited passion felt all-consuming. The pressure of landing that first kiss back home in the American Midwest felt palpable. 

Yet it feels odd raking over this ground as an adult, as if he’s stuck in those naive times. He knows as much, for he’s nothing if painfully self-aware, part of the same forensic introspection that has him picking over ancient history in the first place, perhaps in the hope of rekindling the ardour of youth. But as one friend told him in response to learning about this show: ‘How many kids do you think I’ll have had by the time you stop simping over your high school crush?’’

This perhaps wouldn’t be an issue if Hornedo made us feel more of an emotional connection with his younger self. But he is so analytical that the show feels solipsistic, even by Fringe standards. He examines and philosophises over his every action and motive to the point that it loses interest. He gets very deep about how shallow he was.

And, frankly, much of it seems slightly sad, a grown man in a funk about, say, being friend-zoned a decade ago. Rather than being the noble romcom hero, you may well end up just feeling sorry for him, the low-status guy who just can’t figure things out. 

Again, he’s fully aware of this – indeed the central MacGuffin here is a cringe-inducing breakup video he made for his high school ex. But even if he insists he’s moved on, the fact he recorded a contemporary conversation with that woman and then flew thousands of miles to perform an hour-long show about it for a month doesn’t exactly scream ‘closure’. 

This wouldn’t matter if the show was funny, but while he’s wittily self-effacing up top, as he gets more introspective that levity only occasionally makes an appearance to lighten the navelgazing.

His delivery comes from behind a semi-permeable fourth wall, more like storytelling than stand-up, which means it doesn’t greatly matter if he gets a laugh or just (more commonly) gentle smiles in the post-punchline gap. Either way, he can move on with his narrative. And hopefully his life.

Review date: 2 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Underbelly Bristo Square