Simon David’s 10 Tips For A Fantastic Edinburgh Fringe!
Fantasy Fringe
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Fantasy Fringe 〰️
We’re excited about the Edinburgh Fringe, but it’s clear it needs to change. A lot of people have a lot of ideas, but nothing has really happened yet. So we decided to ask the comedians themselves: in your fantasy, what would the Fringe look like? It might have been a mistake.
Proud, gay comedian, Simon David provides his 10 step guide for anyone bringing a show to the world’s best arts festival!
1) It begins with the written word!
And that word is… trauma. Back in the day, an hour about losing your keys, a takeaway order gone wrong or choosing a new password would have guaranteed you an Edinburgh Comedy Award. But times have changed. People don’t want to hear an amusing story about parallel parking unless it involves you, or someone you love, being run over. Write a list of the most painful things you’ve ever experienced, pick the worst one and bring it to the stage!
2) You can’t spend too much money!
So you’re opening up about your juiciest mental health issue/family death/childhood trauma… now it’s time to open your purse. The fringe is an open access arts festival where anyone with money can shoot for the stars! Splash out £2K on a venue (a shipping container), £2K on accommodation (dilapidated uni halls), £2K on marketing (flyers no one will read), £2K on PR (who even knows?). Clear out those savings, max out that credit card and if push comes to shove, hit up your Dad for a few extra grand… which I can’t do because mine is dead. Come see my hour.
3) The customer is always right!
It’s opening night! There’s a decent crowd! But ten minutes in, as you’re gearing up to the serious bit about your cat’s diabetes, an audience member walks out. This may be hard to hear but if someone leaves during your show, it means you weren’t doing a good job. Maybe first night pressures got to you? Maybe tonight you were just a bit… off? Remember, you and your father have spent an awful lot to be here, so overanalyse every tiny audience response and adjust your artistic output accordingly.
4) Watch What You Eat!
Your number one priority is career progression. You don’t have the time or energy to cook healthy meals plus the communal kitchen in your halls is filthy; the improv troupe you’re sharing with are too busy yes and-ing to wash up. From now on, breakfast, lunch and dinner is twelve pound, van-bought vegan mac and cheese. A blueberry vape for dessert as a treat.
5) Reviews are always right!
A few shows in and your PR company have enticed some of the most prestigious theatre blogs to review your work! None of them can give your show anything less than four stars because brave (step 1), though not all of them have mastered the art of stringing a sentence together. But it’s better than nothing, so get stapling every clunky, underwhelming clipping (think, ‘star-like potential’ or, ‘an intriguing new voice’) to your flyers and bark them at every innocent passerby.
6) Take everything at face value!
Social media isn’t real unless it’s someone posting about their own show. Two weeks in and a comedian has tweeted a selfie with a full looking audience? They must have sold out! That must be happening every night! They must be having the time of their life! Why am I not selling out? Why aren’t people laughing? Why am I crying into a mac and cheese? Everyone else is succeeding, it’s kind of weird you’re not.
7) Do not have sex!
You’re here to get signed by United not fingered by a bisexual clown.
8) Get away from the Festival!
It’s your day off. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. All of last night’s audience walked out except your aunt and uncle who helpfully suggested you try, ‘more relatable comedy’. Why not escape the ‘fringe bubble’ and join the thousands of oblivious, American retirees attending the Edinburgh Tattoo? Relax, have a drink, marvel at the military spectacle, shout things like, ‘don’t you people know there’s a whole other festival going on?’ or, ‘I’m a real artist!’, get chucked out by security, do a 1am mixed bill under a bridge to feel something, get a mac and cheese, cry.
9) Let it out!
It’s week three. You’re malnourished. You haven’t won a Fringe First. Time to go feral! Scream at your audiences to ‘ENJOY IT MORE’! Barge into other act’s shows drunk! Email info@theguardian.com calling them ‘cowards’! Take a load of ketamine on Arthur’s Seat! Get naked! Run onstage during a performance of ‘Best of the Fest’! Rugby tackle Phil Wang! You’ve earned it!
10) No one can say you didn’t try!
You’re broke. Everyone in comedy hates you. The rest of your run is cancelled. You embrace your new life as a management consultant.
Simon David is performing Dead Dad Show at Underbelly Bristo Square, 8.15pm (1hr) 2-27th Aug (Not 14th) @Simongayvid. Tickets here
