I read a lot of the Beano and Anthony Horowitz books growing up (the funny ones, not the spy ones). This was followed by the standard addiction to Friends (I saved up and bought the box-sets, then pretty much memorised the show, rendering the box-sets redundant).
I went through my youth with a head full of comedy thoughts, all my favourite jokes memorised. But I never realised that comedy was something you could actually do, until I joined a sketch comedy society at university (Bristol Revunions, since you asked).
Suddenly I was on stage doing comedy. It wasn’t just something in books and on TV. It was real life. You could collaborate and do sketches in front of people. And those people would laugh. Sometimes in a nice way.
Michael Julings
When I was 18, I learned how to knit to try to impress a girl
I should clarify, this wasn’t just me cold going “What do chicks find irresistible? A man that knits.” No – me and this one girl had previously had a conversation about knitting, so I was convinced the way to her heart was by knitting a scarf, to show off my craft skills.
I wore the scarf to her birthday party. I think she was impressed (if a little perplexed), but love didn’t follow. Nonetheless, it taught me an important lesson about using elaborate performance as a tool for attention.
Where do these teenage loves disappear to? Absolutely nowhere – we’re still mates, I see her all the time. And while I’m grateful for that friendship, she remains a constant reminder of my sappy (yet crafty) former self.
Michael Julings
On my last day of school, I published a parody version of the school’s official daily newsletter.
Alright, this wasn’t as dweeby as it sounds. It was funny. At least the other kids (and the teachers) seemed to think so.
I printed 100 copies and flyered it all over the school. I think it might have been my first piece of original comic writing. And my first experience of flyering for that matter. And it contained a reference to the horse meat scandal, so my first attempt at topical humour too.
Michael Julings
Being invited to my first Edinburgh Fringe
After a few months of doing sketch comedy at uni, I turned my attention from comedy to coursework. But one day in the Easter holidays, I got a call from the Revunions vice-president inviting me to perform in a show at the Edinburgh Fringe that August. My response was a resounding “Yes! Yes absolutely! I’d love to. What’s the Edinburgh Fringe?”
Cue one of the funnest summers of my life. There’s nothing like being a student at the Fringe. The show isn’t going well (duh), but you love it anyway. You flyer all day, and stay out all night, and watch some of the funniest shows you’ve ever seen.
You eat nothing but beer and sleep on a yoga mat. It’s gross. It’s wonderful. Crucially, it’s a place where comedy is a thriving ecosystem, full of people performing, working, and watching. A place I wanted to stay.
Michael Julings
Played to silence for 20 minutes
Did my very first paid 20 at a stand-up club in Leeds. They loved my opener. But my seconder received a lovely dose of pin-drop silence. And that silence stuck around for 19 more minutes.
There was a moment where I thought to myself, “You know, silence in the theatre is actually a sign that the audience respects you. Maybe this isn’t bad stand-up, but a good play”.
I finished the set, to everyone’s relief. The sympathetic bar staff gave me free drinks. I took the overnight coach home, drenched in shame. I knew I needed a bit of time to reassess.
The first lockdown was announced the next day. Maybe not that much time, I thought.
Got hired as the BBC Audio Comedy Contract Writer
I won the BBC Contract Writer Bursary, which meant that I spent a year as a fully-fledged, paid comedy writer, writing jokes for radio comedy shows. Still can’t figure out how I managed it, but it was a brilliant experience.
Writing for radio (and a bit of TV) completely accelerated my skills, which I put into action in my debut stand-up hour Gallivant.
I’m back in the same room this year, Bunker Two in the Pleasance Courtyard, with my new show Man Alive!
Writing and producing comedy for TV and radio continues to be one of the most rewarding things I get to do, but the joy of doing a new stand-up show can’t be beat.
Man Alive! is a show about identity, love and change – soft boy stag dos, hidden meanings, and splitting your destiny in two. And also about how living in a small flat drives you gradually insane. Buy tickets here.
