Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

There are more than a few badly acted, laboriously written, achingly earnest melodramas at every Fringe. Some of them are even deliberate, like this, Andrew Doherty’s follow-up to his breakthrough Gay Witch Sex Cult.

He self-aggrandisingly introduces Sad Gay Aids Play as a theatrical equivalent of a  roller-coaster with no safety bars, guaranteeing we’re going to feel some heavy emotions and occasionally cackling like a gannet on heat as he enjoys the sound of his own arrogance. 

Cue the clunky story of Harry Manlove, spurned by his alcoholic mum who won’t accept his sexuality. So he sets up a new home in 1980s London where he parties with Freddie Mercury and Princess Diana, as all gays did back then, obviously. The fact  that he starts coughing like a Dickensian child is probably nothing, right?

As well as the extravagant cheesiness of the plot and the naivety of the dialogue of his ‘queer epi-drama’, Doherty gets occasional laughs from saying outlandishly offensive things, ironically of course, via his conceited-but-dim persona.

It’s not just the affected ignorance that makes the play he’s presenting such a superficial version of It’s A Sin, however. For it turns out his parents have turned off the money tap financing his theatrical endeavours, and he’s had to turn to Arts Council England.

It is they who insisted he make this, not the more frivolous Six-inspired musical he wanted. And so the hour turns into a parodic exposé of how artistic gatekeepers demand the work they fund fits their existing narrow prejudices, restricting the cultural landscape. Being gay must involve struggle, sadness and tragedy and Doherty is told to ‘Aids it up’ if he wants their backing. The turn to satire is a welcome change of focus, coming just  as the jokes from the badly executed show-within-a-show start to get repetitive. 

As well as being gay, Doherty’s also from Manchester, so if he can pander to the ‘grim up north’ stereotypes, so much the better. The likes of Ken or Billy Elliot, as parodied here, are the sort of poverty porn projects to get the Arts Council juices flowing. 

Meanwhile, the controllers of the purse strings insist his work be strictly apolitical, buzzing in whenever they see a trace of bias, forcing him to immediately backtrack and produce a more neutral version of the offending line.

As the Arts Council folk become increasingly satanic, Doherty gets into a bit of a tangle resolving the story and message, but  powers through with the strength of his on-stage personality. 

It doesn’t feel as if Sad Gay Aids Play will have the legs of its predecessor, but Doherty’s surely talented enough to avoid the most horrifying consequence he can imagine: having to take up a corporate job. 

Review date: 10 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Dome