Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Several years in development, this show betrays all the hallmarks of an ‘undertaking’, starting with Edy Hurst emerging on stage through a giant cauldron, cloaked in robes, announced by thunderclap and surrounded by evocative magical bric-a-brac.

Alerted to his ancestral link to the 17th Century Pendle Witch Trials, the comic has embraced his magical heritage in an effort to process his late-stage ADHD diagnosis, satirising his hyperfocus as a father neglecting his family in favour of psychologically and creatively finding himself.

Whether that's symptomatic of the condition or a coping mechanism is probably moot. There's a witchy glamour to having a justification for his poor organisational skills, which strains his relationship with his loved ones. And neurodiversity is so rampant in comedy that adding a Satanic flavour to his act helps set him apart, even if comedians are all contemporary soothsayers he suggests in an aggrandising flex, his tongue planted firmly in cheek.

The magical trappings certainly inspire some lively audience interaction, though the main gag of a volunteer's Tarot reading has been made far more succinctly by Father Ted. 

More evocative are the atmospheric chants with which Hurst fills the room, through the modern magic of looping technology. And the one-man playlets in which he recreates the crime and trial of his ancestor, his position as court scribe affording him licence to pass amusing ironic commentary on the superstitious nonsense thundered by the judge.

A filmed pilgrimage to the ancestral seat of his sorcery emphasises the thinness of the theme, with local Lancashire businesses having also superficially embraced it. But that's kind of the point, because you're watching a somewhat desperate man at the end of his tether clutching at straws, reinforced by the way that frivolous Eurodance act The Vengaboys begin to become his more abiding obsession. His conspiratorial marrying of the two in pursuit of a grander narrative is expressive of his imminent mental collapse.

What saves him is not abandoning his latest obsession in pursuit of another the moment it's shown to be empty and meaningless. Rather, it's in finding a way to reconnect his behaviour with being a father and partner.

Directed by Joz Norris and featuring elaborate staging and theatrical flourishes, Edy Hurst's Wonderful Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Himself doesn't quite add up to the sum of its spooky parts, perhaps due to his neurodiversity not being kept implied or a ghost in the creaky machine. By rendering it explicit, he's made the audience more passively engaged. Still, it's an enjoyable recreation of a relatable personal crisis.

Review date: 2 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Assembly Roxy