Venue: Hoots @ Apex
Reviewer: Kaitlyn Smith
Rating: ★★★★★ 5/5
Iain Anderson is one of those people who is funny without actually seeming like he’s trying particularly hard to be funny, which is probably one of the biggest compliments I can give a comedian. Traumedy started with him somehow getting all of us singing together, and from there he had a way with the audience that made the whole thing feel incredibly relaxed, despite the fact that some of what he was about to talk about was anything but.
The show is based around some pretty difficult periods of Anderson’s life, including homelessness and addiction, and the lies he found himself telling as he continued digging himself further into a hole. None of that sounds particularly funny written down, and there are obviously parts of his story that aren’t, but he’s very good at finding the ridiculous moments within some genuinely awful situations without making the more serious parts feel insignificant.
What surprised me most about Anderson was finding out that he’s only been doing stand-up for a few years, because honestly, I’ve watched people who have been doing it for decades who don’t seem as comfortable on stage as he does. He’s sarcastic, incredibly quick with an audience and completely sure of himself without it ever coming across as arrogant. He just seems to know exactly who he is, and there is something really refreshing about watching someone onstage who isn’t trying to convince you of their confidence because it’s already there.
A huge amount of Traumedy works because of that relationship with the audience. Anderson can make fun of himself, react to what’s happening in the room and go off in another direction for a moment without you ever getting the sense that he’s lost control of the show, and it feels more like you’re listening to someone tell you an absolutely ridiculous story than watching somebody work their way through an hour of prepared material.
There is also a point in the show where things become genuinely sad, which I won’t spoil because I think it deserves to be experienced without knowing it’s coming. I had tears in my eyes and, for a few seconds, Anderson lets you sit with what he’s just told you before pulling the room straight back into laughter. I remember thinking at the time how difficult that must be to get right, because he doesn’t immediately throw a joke at you because he’s uncomfortable with the silence, but he also doesn’t leave the audience sitting in that sadness for so long that the entire atmosphere changes. He gives it exactly as much time as it needs, and then somehow we’re laughing again.
Anderson has spoken openly about having done a lot of therapy himself, and you can feel some of that self-awareness throughout Traumedy. He isn’t standing onstage discovering these feelings for the first time or expecting an audience to process them for him; he’s clearly spent a lot of time understanding his own experiences, which means he can now look back at some incredibly difficult periods of his life and find humour in places where there probably wasn’t much of it at the time.
That openness also extends beyond stand-up. Anderson does a lot of work around mental health awareness and charity, and there’s something refreshing about how willing he is to talk about subjects people can still find uncomfortable to admit to, whether that’s addiction, homelessness, therapy or simply not being okay. Traumedy touches on all of this without ever starting to feel like you’ve accidentally wandered into a motivational talk rather than a comedy show.
That’s probably why the show never feels like he’s taken a collection of traumatic stories and tried to stick punchlines onto them. He’s talking about his own life, and sometimes that life has been horrible, sometimes it’s been completely ridiculous and occasionally it’s been both at exactly the same time. The comedy doesn’t cancel out the serious parts, and the serious parts certainly don’t stop it from being a very funny show.
For someone who hasn’t actually been doing stand-up for all that long, Anderson is ridiculously comfortable at it. I saw a lot of comedy during this year’s Fringe, from people relatively new to the circuit to performers who have been doing this for decades, and there were genuinely shows from considerably more experienced comedians that didn’t feel anywhere near as confident or complete as Traumedy did.
It’s funny, sarcastic, incredibly personal and occasionally much more emotional than you’re expecting it to be, but above everything else, I just really enjoyed watching him. Anderson has a natural ability to hold a room and tell a story that I don’t think you can completely teach, and if this is what he’s doing only a few years into stand-up, I’m very interested to see what he does with another few behind him.
★★★★★
