Review of the final in Brighton

The number of talented new acts banging on the door of the comedy circuit never ceases to be impressive. And so it was with the Komedia New Comedy Award last night, with nine promising newcomers all trying to make an impression, and largely succeeding. Even my least favourite act had a perfectly serviceable set, albeit one shown up by the inventiveness of the better ones.

That dubious honour goes to opening act Emma Cohen, whose stories of being a single mother of three children often seemed rather too simply told, sometimes veering into the territory of ‘kids say the funniest things…’  reportage, and feeling too scripted in the telling. However, the familiar comic technique of jettisoning maternal pride to be withering about her offspring is reasonably effective.

Her story of an intimate medical examination is also bread-and-butter for a stand-up, though the blunt oversharing and   occasional incredulous punchline generate dependable laughs, even if they were easy pickings.

With wry material and measured delivery, Prateek Kholi probes cultural mores. Some territory is familiar, the stolen good filling he British Museum or a certain clique of yoga-loving white people appropriating ‘namaste’, but he has an amusingly circuitous way into some of this.

Commentary on racism within his native India is territory much less explored in comedy, which he cleverly manipulated in the first of two smart political analogies British people will easily understand. His set’s uneven, but there are some interestingly novel approaches.

Rachel Quinn frets about her people-pleasing tendencies – but scored one of her biggest laughs for delivering a bluntly direct home truth. But the bulk of her material riffs on her appearance, which she likenes to an efficient admin manager, allowing her to share observations any office wonk will identify with while joking about the rarity of a comedian good at paperwork. 

Quinn has an appealing sardonic streak, with a specially pointed line about the advantage of being partially deaf, and a well-formed persona on which to build. 

From his brilliant opener that explains exactly what trauma led him to comedy, Aiden Lornergan combined strong writing with a slightly unhinged persona that leans into the fact he might not be entirely OK.

It sets him up as something of a loser with myriad problems, physical and emotional, and some niche interests, all of which he skilfully mines for quirky gags. With another strong projection of his character - for all its flaws – and a nifty way with words,  Lornergan secured one of the runners-up spots.

As solid as part one was, the second section went up another gear, jump-started by Wes Defoe, whose big, gregarious energy built on the warm atmosphere that compere Barry Ferns had already established. 

This Essex lad is an absolute natural on stage with a blazing star power. His material, truth be told, isn’t so distinctive, such as recalling the teachers who’d warn against tipping back on your chair,  but the charismatic delivery and the perfectly executed act-outs elevate it, and secured him the other runners-up spot. Expect broadcasters to come calling.

Sydney May set off with a brilliant visual gag, which is pretty ironic given that she’s blind. In fact, her disability supercharges her set, with the unique situations she finds herself in described with a sharp wit – and a generous smattering of puns.

There’s something of the Sandi Toksvig to her tone, generous, jocular and relatable even when talking about topics such as audio descriptions that most of us won’t have encountered. Her easy confidence and tight writing secured her the well-deserved first place.

Stanley MacDonald has a name like a 19th Century Prime Minister and a style that owes more than a smidgeon to Alasdair Beckett-King.

He’s slightly detached from the world, and clever in way that translates to esoteric silliness, whether in be in anagrams, playing vignettes on his melodica or talking about his love of LARPing (live action role, playing for the uninitiated) which is entirely on-brand for this nerdy comic. It’s all solidly funny, with a couple of very fine gags to show what he’s really capable of.

Barnsley’s own Donna Williams leans heavily into Northern stereotypes as she share stories of her ‘proper skanker’ family. On this – and on her sexuality – she can be a bit Route One, and the set shines the more she talks about real experiences rather than archetypes about lesbians being good at DIY and hanging out at Screwfix.

Her rhythms are a bit too obvious, too, though she belts out the set with a powerhouse confidence and a compelling no-nonsense air that assures the audience they are in safe hands, and her set was very well received. 

In contrast to her alpha vibes, the very beta comic Eli Hart is downbeat to the point of depression, his portrayal of himself as something of a dour loser only exaggerated by his West Midlands accent. 

Yet behind the pessimism – or perhaps the cause of it – lies a remarkable astuteness about the minutiae of mundane existence. This extends to a spot-on observation of a certain way of watching TV, or an evocative way with words when it comes to describing the simplicity of some people’s lives. That he didn’t get placed shows how tightly fought the evening was.

Finally a set from the very impressive Andrew Fox, last year’s winner, who has an unbeatable combination of a clear worldview – from a criminal-adjacent working-class family – and a formidable gag rate. He was strong last year and has come on leaps and bounds even on that sterling performance. He certainly deserves to be elevated into the comedy big time, and soon.

• Pictured are, front row, from left, Eli Hart, Rachel Quinn, Sydney May, Emma Cohen. Second row: Aiden Lonergan, Stanley MacDonald, Wes Defoe, Donna Williams, Prateek Kohli.

Review date: 12 Feb 2025
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Reviewed at: Brighton Komedia