Laughing Matters is a polished and assured piece of theatre. Although it could reach greater emotional and comedic heights, it reminds us that comedy is grounded in human connection. Summary
Rating
Good
Of all forms of comedy, standup is perhaps the most inseparable from the person on stage. Even when a set leans on topical riffs or absurd ‘what if…?’ scenarios – as Alec Watson’s here often does – it still reflects the unique perspective of the performer. So what happens when a life-altering event crashes into that perspective? Can a comedian’s new self still deliver jokes crafted by their old one?
Laughing Matters tackles this question head-on. Watson’s character, a standup comedian whose girlfriend Jess dies suddenly in a car accident, finds that the material he once performed with ease is now heavy with loss.
In an innovative blend of standup show and theatrical play, Watson moves between routine and monologue with skill. Interspersed throughout the narrative, he performs his set three times, each repetition revealing how grief reshapes his performance. What begins as lighthearted fun becomes tentative and brittle, then finally furious and frenzied. A recurring mid-set phone call from Jess’s father also lands differently as Watson’s emotional state worsens. Even everyday objects in his life are negatively coloured by his grief: Jess’s hairbands left scattered across the flat, a novelty Princess Diana mug she once chose “ironically”. Meanwhile, his whiteboard of jokes becomes a visual barometer of despair, as material is crossed off piece by piece. Yet the play ends with a flicker of hope as the impulse to chase new material stirs again.
Watson’s stand-up routines are competently written, with flashes of inventive absurdity – a segment on the Scottish children’s song ‘Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Off a Bus’ is particularly sharp. But the material could be developed further. A stronger stand-up persona, with more of the personal connections that are explored elsewhere in the play embedded into the routine itself, would heighten both the humour and the emotional resonance. If Watson managed to generate an atmosphere of absolute hilarity at the outset, the later collapse of his craft would land with even greater force.
That said, Watson’s acting is very strong. He handles a dense script without faltering, and the addition of other voices – most notably the Scottish barman, delivered with convincing subtlety – adds texture to the world he conjures. His command of the stage is excellent: with minimal lighting and props he illustrates whole environments and effectively conveys the passing of time, turning a hospital waiting room chair into a church pew or the sofa in his flat with nothing more than words. The structure of the play is also a particular strength: it is clear, well-paced, and holds the audience’s attention throughout.
Watson’s ability as a playwright definitely shines. No word in the script goes to waste; every object, every reference, serves to reinforce the central relationship between himself and his girlfriend. Even when the barman contributes to his joke about hardworking guide dogs versus lazy pet dogs, he ties it back to the fact that the joke was originally Jess’s idea. The tightness of the script does a great job of emphasising her deep entanglement in his original material.
Laughing Matters is a polished and assured piece of theatre, and although it could reach greater emotional and comedic heights, it reminds us that comedy is grounded in human connection.
Written by: Alec Watson
Produced by: Catalytic Productions
Laughing Matters has completed its current run.
