Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Molly McGuinness has a powerful health story to tell in her Fringe debut, but she sensibly chooses not to lead with it.

Instead, she first establishes herself a witty chronicler of working-class life in Salford, with scruffy pubs full of ‘characters’ with names like Barmy Bill, shady backgrounds and  madly quirky behaviours.

It’s an affectionate, colourful portrait of the sort of chaps hitting Spoons for a 9am pint and chatting up women half their age – like McGuinness herself. For a gag here, she sets up a lonely hearts club, detailing their oddly specific demands.

Vignettes of her life reveal a lot in their detail, from the bedclothes of the shabby older men she ends up with to the descriptions of her ‘moshy’ colleagues in second-hand tech and games store CEX.

She portrays herself as the Hannah Montana of Greater Manchester, starry comedian by night, minimum wage slave by day. Her job is dishing out baked beans, a task beneath … well, almost anyone, let alone someone of McGuinness’s talents.

In a major milestone, she starts seeing a younger man. Her determination to get an observation about Gen Z to stick when no one in the room identifies with it is a hilarious moment, as she gets increasingly insistent that she’s right.

All this material is delivered with a conspiratorial smile that seems very genuine, as if she can’t conceal her pleasure that sharing the shittier details of her life is getting laughs.

Thus McGuinness establishes herself as talented comedian who doesn’t need a big trauma to hold an audience rapt. She just happens to have that too.

A  rare complication from tonsillitis led to sepsis and time in a coma – medically induced but lasting longer than intended. Vivid dreams and out-of-body experiences are amusingly recalled, and the small moments of joy while recovering on the ward are cause for celebration. Meanwhile, laying in bed 24/7 appeals to her slobbish side (an angle that could have been foreshadowed more, but no biggie)

Does all this health drama lead to an inspirational payoff? Yes and no – McGuinness has too strong an instinct for the laugh to be 100 per cent sincere, yet combining the mostly unsaid positivity with a silly set piece is a potent combination.

This is a formidable debut, showcasing McGuinness’s gift of being able to draw comedy from anything, from medical trauma to peculiar characters. At her best, her writing is reminiscent of Caroline Aherne, affectionately capturing an unglamorous world.

Expect her Fringe run to open doors for her. Comedy’s gain will be the baked bean counter’s loss.

Review date: 17 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Monkey Barrel Comedy (Cabaret Voltaire)