New acts at a new festival

Day two of the Bristol Comedy Competition semi-finals, and the standard was (almost) as good as the first.

Millie Mallone follows the established approach of using a sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt persona to conceal some dark and cruel material, the technique probably best deployed by Sarah Silverman. Slagging off babies, for example, or thinking about any men who might have been affected by the Channel 4 documentary My Massive Cock. 

It’s an effective style - the only criticism is that the performance can seem a little over-rehearsed - but she has plenty of amusingly inappropriate lines that prove highly effective.

In speaking of growing up poor in an off-grid caravan in a village of acid-dropping hippies, Joe Riley invites the audience into a distinctive world rarely shared in stand-up. 

He still seems rough around the edges, laughing at his own material and delivering with a rhythm that suggests punchlines that don’t quite come, when a less emphatic storytelling approach may suit his content better. But the interesting, evocative and distinctive background is intriguing.

Jojo Maberly offered something different from straight stand-up, bringing her own heckles on a loop pedal, then using it to create a ‘song’ - or rather a howl of angst, in a definite change from the standard jaunty musical comedy.

Elsewhere her musical stylings reminded me of John Hegley, albeit with less whimsical lyrics as she sang of falling for a hot priest long before Fleabag, a track which had a witty and unexpected visual twist. Her rural upbringing also brought a unique edge to her material, all those years of being the only nepo baby in the village now paying off in spades. She was clearly destined for the final, as the audience vote confirmed.

Walter Jack offers a charming mix of gentle silliness and mild self-deprecation, describing himself as a two out of six on an imagined scale of funniness. He does himself a disservice. 

Older than most new comedians, he has a firmer sense of himself, happy to do a  pointless bit of meta-comedy just for his own amusement. Not every line lands, but he doesn’t mind, he seems happy to be there – and makes the audience feel the same way.

By way of contrast, Maddie Coombe is full-on, projecting herself as too intense in relationships – and indeed on stage – especially given the commitment-phobic boyfriends, clinging to no-strings situationships, that she tends to attract.

Her attachment to a certain sort of man surely informs her rant against the cult-like devotees of Huel protein drinks. Low-hanging fruit, perhaps, but the sincerity and relentlessness of her attack is very appealing, and helped land her a place in the final on the say-so of judges (myself included).

Proudly nerdy, Fred Wright delivers a neo-Acaster brand of socially awkward comedy. It’s a difficult style to nail, and a couple of times his set slipped into actual awkwardness – especially when when he chatted to the audience. With front-row punter Lorne besting Wright twice, leaving him flummoxed, the comic probably needs more Plan Bs for when things don’t go his way.

That the premise of his set was tragic added to its unease, while also being the comic engine, seeking laughs from the misery. If he can unlock how to make this more consistent without losing the low-status appeal this could be powerful, as he has some unique ideas. 

Vinny Shiu offers a wealth of potent material about growing up in what seemed to be the only ethnic family in Portsmouth, playfully exploring his desire to fit in as well as stereotypes from both angles.

His dad’s low-level homophobia is another source of wittily wry commentary, backed with solid punchlines, and the focussed, insightful and gag-rich set secured him the third place in the final.

‘Another elderly one’  is how Mark Hurman introduced himself, setting the self-effacing tone. He has some decent gags about his OCD, and of course some disdain for those who co-opt a serious condition to explain ordinary behaviour. However, an analogy about Tom & Jerry was too long-winded, the destination not being worth the journey. 

Meanwhile, gags about the poor performance of Great Western Railways might have been a little predictable, but nicely done – and certainly struck a cord with anyone who’s suffered at their hands.

Kicking off with a daft prop gag, Jack Baker – who bears more than a passing physical resemblance to fellow comic Ali Brice – served up a volley of Tim Vine-style one-liners. 

He has an enjoyable delivery, with winning quirks such as tapping a name badge to hammer home who he is, but several lines have a familiar ring, and the quickest of Googles reveals versions on ‘dad joke’ websites and social media feeds, which probably isn’t where they were first coined. He may well have come up with the gags independently, but would definitely be advised to check their originality. 

» Read the review of the first semi-final here.

Review date: 24 Jan 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Bristol Gaffe Comedy Club