Review of last night's final

Whatever happened to the days when a talent hunt would throw up hopeless would-be comedians, hilarious only in their misguided belief they had a future? The Brighton Komedia New Act Competition is just the latest to serve a line-up of strong comics, any one of whom could provide ten minutes on a pro club night without seeming out of place.

We started with the camp Scott Oswald,  hitting the ground running with his take on the residents of Pompeii striking the perfect pose in which to be immortalised. He’s quite a performative comedian, deliberately acting out his routines, such as the ambiguity of being a baldie in East London  partway between tough guy Phil Mitchell and a much softer role model. His campish delivery is enduringly teasing – manic in a good way – more than covering up for his tendency to go down the route of least resistance in his writing. 

Paggy is the name, passive-aggressive is the game, as this super-intense comic tries to stare down the audience. It’s more appealing than it might sound, her disturbingly unhinged vibe compelling in its unpredictability. The writing’s suitably off-kilter, obsessing about geeky topics such as what’s the superior HDMI cable, and it comes as no surprise when she reveals she’s autistic. Not all the weirdness quite lands, but it’s an intriguingly odd viewpoint.

Louis Beer also embraces the mental health angle, assuming anxiety and voices in the head are universal experiences for observational comedy. However overeating is his particular bete noir. Such focus makes this a solipsistic set, dwelling entirely on his issues but there's a liberal smattering of decent lines that transcend this comedy-as-therapy sharing session.

Tracey Davis embraces the lot of the menopausal women, with plenty of self-deprecating lines about all that the ‘barren years’ means to her. She hasn’t got that much to add to what previous generations, most notably Jenny Eclair, said to own the subject, and reaches for a ‘yuk' line or a vaginal euphemism a bit too readily in lieu of a joke.  Feral teenage girls and her youth as a prolific underage drinker add more fuel to the engine, but she could do with a more distinctive edge. 

Projecting the persona of an ageing twink, Craig Donaghty makes a lot of capital out of what he sees as his own failings, from being a Brummie to being a bit overweight  to being ruddy-faced. There’s an endearing archness to his stories of having daddy issues while his own father was a tad homophobic. While his jokes have a tendency to stick to clear formulae such as the bait-and-switch, he writes solid jokes to fit the bill.

First up after the break, the mulleted George Harvey delivered a wonderfully offbeat set singing the praises of his calves, even if the rest of his being wasn’t up to his exacting standards. The writing’s as precise as it is off-centre, and he ventured into other topics such as conspiracy theories to show some range. With his very specific braggadocio, his set  feels odd in a distinctive way, which could be the key to success. He was very unlucky not to have taken tonight’s title, and had to be content with one of the runners-up slots.

By their own definition, Oro Rose is peak Brighton, being non-binary, coming from a family of bar staff and DJs, and apparently au fait with the fetish scene as well. It's another self-centred set, but the comic is astutely aware of their own absurdities and has an ear for a proper gag. Rose has also refined their stand-up persona since appearing in the final of So You Think You’re Funny last summer, making it much easier for the audience to know the angle. They secured another runners-up place, as part of a run of especially strong acts.

In a comedy scene desperately short of working-class voices, how refreshing to hear Michael Campuzano talk of his day job as a binman. No pretensions here, as a slightly geezerish manner combines with robust gag-writing, albeit with an occasional formulaic pull-backs or observation, such as why his father would ever leave sun-kissed Spain to come to Crawley. Confident, and naturally funny, he’s an innate crowdpleaser and took tonight’s title. 

Shannon Ong’s Singaporean background offers her some unique angles, while her stern attitude – one big ‘screw you' to Western colonisers – is appealing for its directness, even though the harsh tone comes with a smile to conceal the steel. The queen of mean plays with stereotypes, from autism to being a maths tutor, proving intriguing act it’d be good to see more of. Another worthy runners-up place was hers – but it was odd she clutched a vape on stage throughout and never mentioned or used it…

Finally, Eoghan Collins – a self-identifying big hairy Paddy’ – underlining his gags by setting them to appealing acoustic guitar accompaniment. He follows the Flight Of The Conchords path of unconvincing faux coolness, but not too slavishly, and elsewhere lays into the likes of male feminists and Mrs Brown’s Boys. He concedes he can come over a bit laddish, and isn’t immune from making a corny joke if he thinks it’ll land. He’s probably more all-round entertainer than comedy craftsman – but entertain he did. 

As indeed they all did, on a strong line-up, put together, as always, by the Komedia, comedy tutor Jill Edwards and Brighton arts journalist Vicky Nangle - and expertly hosted by the assured but self-deprecating Barry Ferns.

Review date: 11 Feb 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Brighton Komedia