Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Kat Higgins is showing off plenty of comedy chops in her vibrant Fringe debut, based on her continuing mission to be memorable.

As the only daughter alongside three boisterous brothers, she has long learned to be an attention-seeker – and, boy, does she grab it in this commanding, high-spirited performance.

The assured Irish comedian self-identifies as a prick – laying much of that at the door of her Catholic upbringing, as she spent some of her teenage years as an altar assistant at  a church whose priest was, bizarrely, known for being a betting tipster, too.

In the fast-moving hour we hear of her first communion, the peculiarities of her mansplaining father who could generously be described as a ‘character’, and many stories of her feral siblings, terrorising babysitters or leaving her Stranded on a night out.

Higgins is the sort of skilled storyteller who adds fuel to the Irish ‘gift of the gab’ stereotype, instantly forming the sort of casual rapport that makes us feel like we’ve known her for years and with an instinctual feel for how to pace and construct a yarn.

Having welcomed the audience into her confidence, she drops a bombshell halfway through the show which brings a very particular shade of darkness to her material. 

The edgy gags that the revelation unlocks are unkind when you wouldn’t expect it – yet the inappropriateness not just gives the punchlines added prickle, but also gives the hour its purpose. Why do we retreat to bland platitudes to process difficult situations, Higgins asks, when honesty is more human, more real?

With commanding force of personality, she is never in anything but full control of the room. She's effortlessly good at the to-and-fro with the audience, even able to keep a lid on slightly disruptive behaviour without making anybody feel bad. Her quest to be memorable in the world of comedy is certainly off to a cracking start.

Review date: 11 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Hoots @ Nicolson Square Garden