Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

This is it. Joz Norris’s life’s work. All the sacrifices, all the toil, comes to a head in this distillation of his every artistic instinct. The creation that defines him will be unveiled here and now. Well, in a bit…

Norris is known as a very silly comedian, a stalwart of the Weirdo’s collective and collaborator with countless clowns. He’s an agent of chaos who finds joy in the ridiculous.

All that is present here, but, remarkably, You Wait. Time Passes is also a powerful and incisive examination of artistic obsession. Salient points are packed in, but all made with a giddy frivolity.

Both he and the set are dressed entirely in white, save for a sweatband which proclaims him ‘Artist’. As well as unveiling his legacy, hidden from view in a chest atop a column, centre-stage, he’s going to offer the audience tips on how to unlock their own potential – however contradictory they might be. Even if you’re not already aware of Norris’s previous work, it’s quickly apparent this is going to be a tricksy hour.

He quickly demonstrates the roles he’s played to get to this point, comedian, actor, magician – all wonderfully daft mini-sketches.

Now his aims are manifold. To be recognised by Google as the No1 Joz on Earth, a title currently held by a Dutch agricultural machinery firm. To show to his estranged wife that all the hours ignoring her to slave over this project has been worth it. To express who he really is, and to revel in the feelings of putting that out into the world and be acclaimed for it. He will go to any lengths to achieve all this, especially when it comes to industrial barn clearance.

The mystery of the exact nature of his life’s work is certainly a strong hook, and the build-up to its revelation is jam-packed with original ideas. His corollary to the old ‘comedy=tragedy+time’ motto is particularly inventive – and depressing: that everything that’s now funny will one day be sad. 

He considers the merits or otherwise of artistic endeavour from many wise angles, but without ever losing sight of the funny. Not many theses on the psychology of an artist will feature a malfunctioning AI sex chatbot that’s a psychologically troubling replacement for the partner who left him over his fixation. 

Norris’s performance is fizzing with intense energy, using his physicality and the venue space to the full. His interactions with the audience provide spontaneity, not that you would ever know quite what he was going to do next anyway.

Ironically, this *is* Norris’ Mona Lisa, the culmination of his many years in comedy. Was it worth whatever sacrifices he made? That’s for him to decide . But for the audience it’s an insane roller-coaster ride with thoughtful purpose underpinning  laughs upon ridiculous laughs.

Review date: 8 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Dome