The bravest comedy show I've ever seen

I think of myself as a (constructively) critical consumer of comedy but before I go any further with this blog I would like to say something. At a fundamental level, I am in awe of anyone who does stand-up comedy.

I think it is the combination of bravery and vulnerabilty which comedians exude which makes me admire anyone who is prepared to call themselves one.

And the bravest comedy show I have ever seen was in Edinburgh a few years ago. It was a classic fringe festival gig - the kind of gig which established comedians joke about and new comedians have to actually do. You know, the show where there are only three people in the audience (true) and one of them is the son of the comedian's-mum's-best-friend (also true).

The show was free. There were two comedians on the bill. Only one turned up and two out of the three people in the audience had come to see the other one (Benny Boot). The venue was a run-down RAF Club a reasonable walk away from the festival epicentre and the best thing about it was the eighties-priced drinks.

The other comedian (let's call him Luke) arrived to discover the size of his audience. He hesitated and asked if we wanted to hear his part of the show. We said we did, but we didn't really expect him to do it.

I don't know if it was our enthusiasm or the fact that he was performing five minutes in a 'new faces' type show later in the festival but he did it. He set his own lights, adjusted his own mike and performed his part of the show.

We gave him plenty of encouraging laughs back in return (see previous post on giving good audience) but it was still the bravest comedy show I've ever seen. Several years later, an internet search suggests that his actual name was Liam Speirs. I may have forgotten his name but I will never forget that show.