For a summer which has seen rain and gale force winds, the Big Chill is possibly the most aptly named festival for the season.
In the stunning setting of Eastnor Castle, Ned Riley and Amy Powell unpacked their waterproofs and went in search of some comedy talent.
As the Underbelly emptied and the crowds disappeared into the sunlight, it became obvious that this was not going to be the ideal venue for any comedian who was not Bill Bailey.
The bearded darling of the festival had completed a brilliant set and it was obvious that no-one was interested in the comedy any more.
The only remaining audience consisted of scattered groups lounging or sleeping on the floor, families taking a break from the heat, and three wild eyed and frankly quite scary young men stood staring menacingly directly in front of the stage.
This was comedy at the Big Chill. It had the feeling of turning up to a house party but finding that all the punch and vodka jelly has been finished, and everyone has left except one really funny guy who is chatting to himself in the corner.
And that’s the punchline, because the comedy was good. In fact it was really good. But it just seemed that no-one really cared.
Brilliant sets came from internationally respected comedians like Pete Johansson and Jarred Christmas, there was homegrown talent of the likes of John Fothergill, and appearances from household names like Simon Day of Fast Show fame.
Dealing with this slightly unnerving setting was a challenge for all the comedians. Johansson went into it head on, informing the terrible threesome that “you psycho boys are freaking me out!” before security politely asked them to sit down.
Fothergill, with his brash Geordie manner, saw himself safely through with a good mix of banter and insults. Day, however, seemed distinctly uncomfortable and his set disintegrated into a clumsy patchwork of one-liners (ever heard the one about the two bee keepers before? We certainly had).
For those with a little patience, however, there were some absolute gems. Johansson’s set was a brilliantly subversive mix of politics, law-breaking and sex all delivered in a languid, confessional style.
He touched popular ground with attacks on American gun culture and the stringent drug laws, and admitted a fondness for the “sexy tips” in Cosmopolitan Magazine (“I was reading it a couple of weeks ago and it said that the best sex was spontaneous sex, ever heard of that? So a couple of days later I was doing the dishes and I just surprised myself and masturbated!”).
Comedy was littered all around the festival.
The Mighty Boosh provided a reminder of their unique prowess and pulling power with a truly mighty set on the main stage (overshadowing Bailey himself who parodied Noel Fielding brilliantly: “Ohhhh, we only play the main stage, ohhhhh!”) and a comedy stream of consciousness from singer-songwriter and new mother Beth Orton when responding to the shouts of “I love you” from the crowd: “love you too, but you’ve made me forget the words to my next song…. Baby brains!
My brains have been sucked out of my bosom by my baby. I used to have lots of brains, all piled up on top of each other!”
The Big Chill’s Underbelly was not a triumphant success, but the festival organisers should be commended for giving a sometimes unresponsive audience a diverse and at times fantastic range of comedians.
"He is slick and masterful in his audience control. He is quiet and unenergetic enough to demand close attention to his words, meaning the smallest look, frown or smile is funny."- Tom Howard on Demetri Martin
