Perhaps it’s not so surprising that The Queer Comedy Club – which first opened the doors of its Archway home last month – is the UK’s only venue dedicated to LGBTQ+ comedy. Over the course of the past decade, nearly 60 per cent of the capital’s queer spaces have been forced to close down altogether in the wake of surging rents and large-scale developments taking over entire areas of the capital, and as securing permanent spaces becomes increasingly challenging, organisers have often had to get creative with pop-ups.
Funnily enough, this is also how The Queer Comedy Club first came into being; long before it set up shop in North London, it first existed as a night at Hampstead’s ZODIAC, followed by a stint at Peckham’s John the Unicorn. “Our nights were always really oversubscribed, and we had lots of great audiences, and people would keep coming back for more,” says David Ian, a stand-up comedian and co-founder.
Though these early nights allowed them to get a foothold on the London comedy scene, “the idea of opening a permanent site felt really important,” adds fellow founder Kate Dale, also a regular on the stand-up circuit. The pair opened the North London club alongside co-founder Jeremy Topp, a fellow comedian. “Something with really prominent signage, right on the street, and a real, permanent space for LGBTQ+ people”.
A historic lack of space for nurturing queer comedy is an obvious issue; but it’s also a fact that many of the smaller stand-up nights currently happening in pubs around London aren’t always the most welcoming places for marginalised audiences. I was put off stand-up for years after a man sporting a fedora and performing for about nine people in a sticky-floored, south London pub singled me out from a front row in order to commence an excruciating ten-minute ‘bit’, in which he pretended to mistake me for an ex-girlfriend. Not to get into too many of the grisly details of the delightful voyage down memory lane that ensued, but it mostly concerned the idea that she was in possession of a phenomenally cavernous vagina. Ha ha ha! Hilarious.
But there’s a revolution on the way. While the highest levels of comedy – think: prime-time panel shows, and huge platforms like Live At the Apollo – are still dominated by straight, white men, and The Queer Comedy Club is the first to open up a dedicated venue, they’re by no means the only collective showcasing marginalised voices and challenging stand-up comedy’s unfortunate associations with jaded married blokes impersonating gay men for laughs, or cracking endless jokes about ‘the old ball and chain’.
Founded by the hilarious Kemah Bob back in 2018, FOC It Up: The Femmes of Colour Comedy Club, platforms women, gender nonconforming, non-binary and trans-masculine performers of colour at its Soho Theatre residency: Charlie George, Heleana Blackwell, and Lux Venérea are just a few of the talented comics to grace its stage. Last year, Bob told the Standard that she’s keenly aware of “blatent tokenism” across London’s mainstream comedy nights. “I was like, hold on a second, rhere have got to be people out there who want to hear from people like me - and people not like me - and don’t know where to find us.” she said. “Because we are often the only person [of colour, or LGBTQ+] on the show.”
George is also a regular performer and host at a separate night at East London queer club The Glory; run by Jessie Pelizzari and Victoria Olsina, Clandestina Queer Comedy is another valuable spot for exciting new voices and the next wave of comedy talent. Brilliantly-named The LOL Word – in honour of noughties lesbian drama The L Word – are also Soho Theatre regulars, cherry-picking their favourite new acts to join them each time. Though Sophie Duker’s stand-out night Wacky Racists has been quieter recently – presumably, Duker is too busy leaving audiences in stitches on Taskmaster and extending her UK tour due to massive demand – they’re another night promising upcoming fun later in 2023.
The Queer Comedy Club also believes in the importance of platforming talented queer voices in comedy, and is also trying to create an environment for budding comics to shakily take to the microphone for the very first time. “We need new comedians coming through,” says Dale, “so that we get far greater diversity. It’s pretty scary stepping out on stage and often talking about something that’s really personal to you. It’s really important; we will get more stories, we’ll get more comedy, and better diversity in comedy, by having spaces where people can really cut their teeth in a warm, supportive, friendly environment.”
“From newer comedians’ point of view, it means that they can get comfortable in the space and then develop over time,” Ian points out. “Doing stand-up is a really brave thing, it’s incredibly difficult, and it takes an awful lot of gumption to do it. When you’re a queer person, if you’re going to stand up, and talk about your lived experiences, and you’re gonna go out on the circuit, you might go into a room, and not know what the reaction is going to be.”
Though London’s DIY comedy scene is in a hugely exciting place, Dale and Ian have noticed a degree of “punching down” in some of the most mainstream comedy on offer. “Some stand-up comedy can be quite macho,” Dale says, “and it’s not necessarily always brilliant for women. There’s quite a lot of low level homophobia, and transphobia, as well.”
Though an increasing number of straight men in comedy are crafting insightful routines that explore their identity in interesting new ways, some still fall back on lazy punchlines, says Ian. “There’s this age-old routine, where they’re always like: ‘Oh, I’m on the apps, you know; I’ve been on Bumble and Tinder, and that one day, I was on Grindr’. Then they pick out one guy in the audience, and go, ‘oh, I recognise you’, as if the concept of being on Grindr is funny enough in and of itself to be a joke. That’s just casually homophobic, without intending to be.”
Matthew Ali, a regular at The Queer Comedy Club who has been performing stand-up comedy for around a year, agrees. “I’ve played rugby for the longest time, so I’m used to – and feel somewhat comfortable – in a quite laddy environment. But even I already go in [to mainstream comedy spaces] with a hesitancy, like, I don’t think I’m going to do well here. The more established places can sometimes feel a lot less inclusive.”
Though The Queer Comedy Club mostly does exactly what it says on the tin, showcasing as many LGBTQ+ comedians as possible and giving emerging stand-ups an encouraging environment in which to hone their craft, the team emphasise that all comedy lovers are welcome through its doors – the club also welcomes straight comics to The Not Totally Queer Comedy Club once a month.
Ultimately, this is because the team behind The Queer Comedy Club feel passionately that hearing from as many voices as possible, and elevating all kinds of comedians from different backgrounds to the mic, will only make comedy a funnier, more cathartic place. “Comedy is so powerful: you can have a window into someone else’s life,” says Ian. “My first intention is to make people laugh. But ultimately, I think being able to stand up and tell jokes about PrEP – which is an HIV prevention drug that most straight people perhaps don’t know anything about – my opportunity to tell a joke about that and educate people feels like a real privilege, and something that’s really important.”
“Life is hard, and I think finding the comedy in it brings a great sense of relief, especially in a space where you feel connected to people’s sense of community,” Dale concludes, before bursting out laughing. “God! I sound really worthy.”
Clandestina Queer Comedy’s next night, hosted by Charlie George, takes place at The Glory on July 6
FOC It Up’s Pride night takes place at Soho Theatre on June 26; you can also listen to their FOC IT UP! Comedy Club podcast
The Queer Comedy Club is open in Archway now
