Joe Kent-Walters
Frankie Monroe, the impish proprietor of a working men’s club who has made a Faustian pact to keep his establishment open, is bound to be a breakout star at this year’s fringe. His creator, Joe Kent-Walters, grew up on a diet of The Mighty Boosh and Vic and Bob. He started out running an alternative comedy night in the basement of his Leeds student house. Frankie was inspired by regulars at the working men’s club where Kent-Walters grew up in Huddersfield: “These slightly ghoulish old men who love to trick you.” The show immerses us in Frankie’s “mad place”, as he stalks the stage, playing with the audience, and singing catchy tunes. It’s an absurd, exciting show that pays homage to end-of-the pier humour and laments the closure of northern clubs: “Against the odds, you want him to win.”
Monkey Barrel, 29 July–25 August
Andrew Doherty
The man behind this year’s most striking show title, Gay Witch Sex Cult. Andrew Doherty is making his solo debut with this “queer folk horror comedy”, but he’s no stranger to the fringe as he used to perform in sketch duo Megan from HR, with One Day’s Ambika Mod. Gay Witch Sex Cult is character-driven, silly and strongly plotted, as Doherty plays deluded Kaelan, welcoming us to the gender reveal party of his unborn child. Doherty loves creating “very stupid people with a real sense of entitlement. But I also like a story with twists and turns.” His show is immersive, spooky and dripping with hubris. Doherty hopes you leave thinking: “I’ve not seen anything like that before!”
Pleasance Courtyard, 31 July-25 August
Kate Cheka
She started standup to spite an ex, but after her first three minutes on stage in Berlin, Kate Cheka realised she had found her calling. She won the Funny Women award 2023, following in the footsteps of Desiree Birch and Katherine Ryan. Her style is: “Chatty, sarcastic, like you would tell stories to your mates, a bit gossipy.” Expect top-tier sexual anecdotes, dissections of race and gender, and insights from her travels. Basically: “sex and colonialism.” Cheka will examine who positions themselves as saviours, and “why I feel like it’s my job to save the world”. She hopes to replicate highs from her own favourite standup: “The best art makes me want to go out and do something, or makes me feel really seen.”
Hoots @ Potterrow, 2-25 August
Marjolein Robertson
Growing up on Shetland didn’t give Marjolein Robertson much chance to hone a “tight five”, so she dived straight into making full fringe shows. Shetland folktales have always influenced her work – she spent lockdown nights telling stories on Twitch and weaves them through her standup. She is a compelling narrator, entwining the mythic with a generous openness. “Every show has a folktale to illuminate the story,” she says. “But there are moments when it’s brutally real.” Last year, she unravelled an abusive relationship. This year, a period-induced near-death experience. While folktales are “escapism” for Robertson, she strives to erase the shame around very real topics: “I want to make people laugh, but also potentially help people.”
Monkey Barrel, 30 July–25 August
Sarah Roberts
Five years ago, Sarah Roberts was a scriptwriter and arts journalist. After her first standup success: “I was so delusional, I quit my job the next day.” She’s since crafted a compelling persona – deadpan delivery and a knowing girlishness that lend her punchlines a sharp but charming edge. She admires Catherine Cohen and Kate Berlant and that influence shines through. “There’s an element of: I think I’m amazing, but nothing’s going right,” Roberts says. Her show is nominally about jaw surgery, but more accurately about the pressure to be perfect and “how exhausting it is to be a girl”. She’s honest, sometimes “gross”, with detours into past lives, Candy Crush and coming out. Expect personality, hints of darkness and, ultimately, empowerment.
Assembly George Square, 31 July-25 August
Jin Hao Li
Eddie Murphy’s Delirious first kindled Jin Hao Li’s love of comedy, and he honed his craft in the clubs of Singapore and Scotland. His standup is sweet, calm and reflective, with his tales spanning army conscription in Singapore, Scottish seagulls, recurring nightmares and childhood dreams. “It’s like a violent children’s story book,” he says. “There are moments when animals come alive, but moments when it’s grotesque and scary.” His comedy is infused with wistfulness (“I have a deep nostalgia that haunts me”) as he tries to return us to childlike delight with his blend of the sincere and surreal. His love of comedy has only grown since he started performing. “I’ve cried at good comedy,” he says. “When someone is fun in a way that is authentic to them, their spirit bursts forth.”
Pleasance Courtyard, 31 July-25 August
