Alice Fraser

“Why do you do comedy?” “Isn't it just degenerates shouting in dingy bars?”“Why don't you do real theatre?” All questions I've been asked by family and friends. Yes, they are cultural elitists. I went to USYD and Cambridge. I know an elitist when I am one. So why did I step off the train to socially normative stability to be a stand-up comedian, wrestling laughs from belligerent drunks and sceptical students in bleak back rooms or touring solo shows in hypercompetitive festivals where people mainly want tickets to the guys (usually guys) they know off TV? It’s something I consider as comedy festival season rolls around each year, and I launch myself into another show and another months-long marathon of this grimy one-person-and-a-mic game. The simple answer is: I chose comedy because here and now, it feels like more interesting things are being said, and are able to be said – and to more people – through comedy than through any other performing art form. And as someone who has done theatre in the past, and still sees it regularly, I believe that comedy speaks to its audience in ways contemporary theatre struggles to match. I’m not saying that comedy is better than theatre. But that’s the point. Comedy doesn’t think it’s better than anyone. I’ve never heard anyone say, “oh comedy, I couldn’t possibly!” Nobody thinks comedy is too fancy for them: it elides the high-culture/low-culture paradigm. You can see comedy that’s mind-blowingly arty – Laura Davis’ last shows were per