Round-up of some of the acts playing the festival, in no particular order...

Even though the comedy offering across Latitude’s smaller spaces is less than it used to be, the art of stand-up is still taken seriously here. Unlike other festivals, the main comedy tent is not generally a magnet for those who want to sleep off their hangovers or come down from other excesses of the previous night. They want to hear some comedy.

However, daytime gigs in the warming sun and long stretches of comedy inevitably mean the crowd are more subdued than a normal gig. And that can be exposing: for while good jokes will always get a good response, stories sold on personality more than punchlines get a notably more muted response than they would with the benefit of momentum in a theatre or club. Even Reginald D Hunter found that during his closing set.

Earlier in the weekend, Tez Ilyas (2.5*) also failed to fully engage, with a set that just wasn’t lean enough. An extended anecdote about taking his extended family to Disneyland Paris, for instance, had far too much mundane background around the actual funny stuff. 

Elsewhere much of his material felt like first-thought opinions that haven’t been fully developed, a quick reaction to things he’s seen online, such as a BBC News article asking why there were few BAME skiers. ‘Is that really such a big issue?’ is his short answer, to which his couple of minutes added little. And how many times have we heard a variation on the idea that social media gives some nutter with a Twitter account the same weight as the overwhelming expert consensus?

He performs with vim, and there are a few great lines –especially puns – but he’s better than this relatively flabby set.

Toussaint Douglas (3*) has also had better gigs, with his dry delivery and peculiar outlook struggling to cut through – even though his material about the difference between working-class and middle-class people couldn’t be more pertinent for this Ocado of festivals.

His take on Marvel’s introduction of a black Spider-Man is quirky and silly, while longer anecdotes, such as his grandma’s migration story, are delightfully descriptive – even if the comic angle here is a surprisingly familiar one for a stand-up who’s usually inventive.

Douglas’s delivery is odd, with the affectation of repeating the same set-up line, like ‘I like pigeons, I like pigeons,’ feeling awkwardly unnatural without tipping over into an amusing tic. He has enough good lines to overcome the discomforting delivery, but it didn’t seem like an overwhelming triumph.

Rosie Jones (3*) delivered more of her ‘triple-threat’ shtick: disabled gay – and a prick. And she’s funniest when she brings the third one to the foreground.

She likes to exploit audience goodwill to her full advantage. For example, giving a passionate speech about not wishing to be anyone else but who she is, proud and strong, which wins a supportive ovation. It does seem a little like a rallying cry, but, of course, she flips it with a joke that undermines the sincerity.

It’s not the only time she catfishes the crowd into condoning some seriously dubious behaviour on the basis of their support for her personally. Let’s just say the Gillian Anderson sex fantasy meant the BSL interpreter had her work cut out – but also got plenty of laughs of her own for acting out the filth.

Getting the signer to mime out filth is a comedy staple, but Shaparak Khorsandi (3.5*) set a unique challenge: asking her to interpreting a lyrical poem she performed in Farsi. The Anglo-Iranian then became the second stand-up this festival to announce her ADHD diagnosis (after Aisling Bea) as she confessed the meds left her ‘just as scatty as I was before … but now I don’t care’.

A literal shaggy dog story about her rescue pet offered airy preamble before she got into the meat of her set, a truncated version of her latest stand-up show It Was The 90s. Contrasting her reckless past to the more considerate behaviour of today’s youngsters - with dating formalised by apps and mindfulness instilled from primary school – she offered astute and interesting social commentary drawn from the mistakes she made. Of the ladette culture she so vigorously embraced, she comments, ‘we muddled feminism with alcoholism’ – and wondered why women ever thought mimicking the worst of men was a good idea. It’s always nice to see a middle-aged comic praising Gen Z rather than sneering at them as a bunch of over-sensitive snowflakes. 

She offers good insight into privilege, too, as she considers her son’s education, has an observant chunk on dating men through the decades of their lives, and offers some stories of the horrific sexism on the 1990s comedy circuit.

That has changed (if not yet completely eradicated), which may be of benefit to Khorsandi’s nine-year-old daughter, Vivi, who showed some early promise when she joined mum on stage.

Speaking of families, Scott Bennett’s (3.5*) wife and kids loom large in his supremely relatable material drawn from his home life, striking a chord at a festival. 

Stories about taking youngsters on holiday and how his wife Jenna makes all life’s decisions for him – for which he’s extremely grateful – are close to home for many at a festival that appeals to young families like his

Set against this instantly familiar backdrop come more distinctive stories, such as the slapstick efforts of trying to get changed in a minuscule swimming pool cubicle, that he conjures up wittily. It’s all performed with an Everyman charm which wins over the audience – and belies the skill needed to make the conversation seem so natural.

Social media star Munya Chawawa (2.5*) has effortlessly transitioned into a Royal Television Society Award-winning TV presenter thanks to his charm and easy confidence. But the move from online comedy to live is a tougher one, and this – his first festival stand-up gig – showed how his skills as a comedian were definitely underdeveloped. 

Personal material was of the superficial variety many newcomers plump for, speaking of how people can’t pronounce his name very well, and making quips that his bushy eyebrows, ‘like slugs’. He spoke, too, of how his background in rural Framingham Pigot, not so far from here, is as ‘street’ as strangers assume. Fine but undistinguished stuff.

Even the one-man sketches, which you might expect to be his forte given his viral work, felt predictable, especially one based on the not-so-stunning observation that Nigella Lawson makes her recipes overtly sexual.

Chawawa’s likeability and assuredness go a long way, and he has a glint as he executes these sketches… but the inexperience as a live comedian definitely showed.

Another act known more for other activities than her stand-up, Judi Love (2.5*), was introduced with a warning that she was doing new material.

‘This is the poshest festival I’ve ever been to!’ gushed the woman who just the previous night had hosted a £55-a-head Caribbean meal in Latitude’s new pop-up restaurant. The irony escaped her.

Graphic sex talk was the cornerstone of her ribald set, along with some mixed-message material about being a larger woman, largely body positive but not always. But she never really finished ideas. For example, she mentioned the notorious ‘pen test’ for the perkiness of boobs but leaves it there. It might have been a bit hack had she suggested what items she could support, but at least it would have been a punchline.

Similarly, a long description about being invited to a posh house never contains any jokes about how posh it was, just a mildly exaggerated description that sounds more like a gushy estate agent’s blurb. And if that’s not relatable, wait till she tells you how much she spent on a pair of Jimmy Choos for a big TV event.

Her larger-than-life personality is infectiously vivacious, and you feel like you’ve spent time in good company – but Love’s writing is definitely underdeveloped.

Review date: 25 Jul 2022
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