Rob Gilroy: Fringe While You’re Winning

And the nominees for the Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Awards 2014… don’t include me. I can’t say I’m not hurt by the snub but then I suppose I have to accept some of the blame, seeing as I didn’t take a show to the Fringe.

My congratulations go out to everyone who has been nominated, they thoroughly deserve it. Far be it for me to suggest that the awards are fixed, but they do seem weighted in favour of Fringe-going acts. However, I’m sure whoever it is, will be thrilled to be announced as the winner of the Holsten Pils Festival Newbie Awards.

Awards and comedy are a funny pairing, the Hale and Pace of ceremonies if you will? While it’s undeniably right that people should be honoured for their work, especially at their peak, when it’s within the comedy arena questions about personal taste and subjectivity are bound to rise. Like the yeast-filled baps of Paul Hollywood.

This debate is constantly raging through comedy, especially as gong shows and competitions increasingly become one of the only ways to progress.

I’ve done plenty of both in the past and have been incredibly successful and embarrassingly inept. I try to take what I can from them; namely, tightening and honing my act so that it packs an immediate punch. But I’m also aware of my limitations in a competition; if you’ve only got five minutes of stage time – or worse, 90 seconds – how can anyone fully deliver their best? And if the judge doesn’t find your hue of comedy amusing, how do you stand a chance?

Comedy is very subjective. Like horse-based sexual role play, it’s not for everyone. These varying opinions are fine at the Fringe – a place that supports and encourages all manner of styles and genres, yet surely the presence of the White Lightning Comedy Accolade goes against these core principals?

The Carlsberg Certificate of Chucklicity is simply a seal of approval for acts, but is it a little outdated? When it was still sponsored by the high class bottled water manufacturer it was seen as prestigious, but that was while comedy could still be seen as being on the ‘fringes’ of the festival. Comedy is no longer the fringe, it’s the full bob.

Comedy takes up the majority of space at the festival – don’t take my word for it, take the words of the purple-tabbed pages in the programme. With so many acts surely it’s time to give the Glenmorangie Giggle Gongs a rest. The awards add an unnecessary air of competition to what should otherwise be a month of celebrating the diversity of acts, a sort of Britian’s Got Talent without the ritual humiliation of vulnerable people, or the megalomaniac millionaires.

While every comic would like to say they are doing it for the love of comedy, the increased pressure of the ‘right way’ to do the Fringe – i.e. appearing at one of the big venues, spending 20 grand just on publicity, finding a ‘hook’ for your show – means that acts can’t help but feel that their Fringe show has to lead to something. A weight of expectation on what should be a chance to experiment and enjoy being creative. As comics we’ve all got abandonment issues – the last thing we need is yet another group to seek approval from. Yet, that’s what the Pernod Titter Medals encourages.

This may sound like the bitter ramblings of someone who has never come close to holding the smooth, gold-plated statuette of the Smirnoff Hilarity Honours, but it isn’t. I’ll admit, if I won, I’d be the first person to rip their shirt off and tear through Edinburgh screaming “I done the bestest!” but really, I think the awards put an unnecessary pressure on people who are already striving to do the best they possibly can.

The Fringe is an extraordinary place and one where, whatever your personal tastes, you’re bound to find something you like (especially the alley round the back of the Pleasance – just ask for Big Joe Nips) so we should leave it be – let everyone, whatever their style, whether free show or paid, get on with making people laugh and competing in the only way that matters – getting people through the door.

That said, I’m not the sort of person to piss on another’s chops, so my genuine congratulations to all that were nominated, although next time I’d be happier if there was a category for The Spirit of the Fringe by Staying at Home. That way, I’d still stand a chance of being crowned the Kestrel Super Gagmiester of the Year.