Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Okay here’s a juicy one. If you frequented the sidebar of shame in the mid-2010s, there’s a chance that you might know the name Jake Roche. Maybe you've even been wondering what happened to him. Well, it’s worth your while coming down to the Underbelly to find out.

Roche is the son of EastEnders stalwart Shane Richie and Loose Woman/pop star Colleen Nolan, and while he wasn’t exactly raised in the public eye he still harboured a lifelong lust for fame. In 2014 it appeared briefly that the dream might be coming true when Roche’s boyband Rixton released their debut single.

Unbeknownst to Roche, this would turn out to be a real ‘15 minutes’ scenario. His band played Madison Square Gardens to thousands of screaming teenage girls, he hung out exclusively with A-list celebrities, was engaged to a pop star and wore a big silly hat. Within 18 months it was all gone except the hat, and he was applying for Universal Credit, humiliated on a national stage.

So, Roche’s debut comedy show has an interesting and unusual story to tell by any measure, full of gossip, intrigue, celebrities and heartbreak. But nepo babies throwing together their first show – an autobiographical one-man musical no less! – in a bid for relatability and relevance is not usually a recipe for a good time, and you almost wouldn’t want it to be. As such, it brings me no pleasure to report that Neoporrhoids is actually extremely funny. (Just kidding)

It is actually astounding how a pampered starlet who went through all the worst excesses of British tabloid culture has created a show that feels contemporary and cutting edge in its humour, particularly as he makes almost no attempt (at least for the majority of the runtime) to elicit sympathy. 

Strutting around the stage like a peacock in a white leather jacket, belting out hilarious and extremely catchy songs in a beautiful singing voice, firing out off-the-cuff wisecracks left right and centre, this regular-looking indie boy immediately dazzles with unexpected star power, supported by some excellent choices in production and direction.

He’s potentially in a bit of a Catch-22 in that the show’s level of ambition almost demands a wider stage and a bigger audience, but the brilliant arrogance of his nepo baby stage persona is only saved from being unbearable by the context that we’re sitting on folding chairs in a dank bunker.

In the final third, as Roche plummets out of the stratosphere, things take a more contemplative turn and the energy drops off, betraying the show’s origins as a more serious piece, previously listed misleadingly under ‘theatre’ in the fringe guide. This slow-down is a necessary evil perhaps, but still leaves you with the (appropriate) feeling of a deflating balloon.

The sudden quiet allows him space to reflect on everything that’s happened: his relationship with his father, his worries that he might be a narcissist, and his desire to make something of himself without his parents’ money.

It’s true there will always be a safety net for him that many people don’t have, and for some viewers that’s going to be a conclusive barrier to entry, but the show does a good job of illustrating the subjective nature of desire, fame and failure. This unreal life was still real to him, while it lasted, and it meant a lot.

There’s such talent, wit and energy to this show, it feels inevitable that it’s going to explode pretty soon. Quickly, see it now as it’s meant to be seen, with Roche on the downswing.

Review date: 20 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Tim Harding
Reviewed at: Underbelly Cowgate