10 Things I Hate About Me

'My show is about hope. It's also about mental illness, good liars, bad ideas, Lorraine Kelly and a gang lord forcing me to hold a raw chicken. But it's mostly about hope. I live with a complex mental illness called borderline personality disorder (BPD) and I started writing this, about that, in January 2020. It's been a long 5 years, but I'm finally here.

I hadn’t planned on seeing Joe’s show. In fact, I figuratively bumped into him earlier in the day, and after a quick chat, I thought, Why not? I grabbed a ticket on a whim, wandered in without a clue what to expect—and walked out having seen what has easily become my favourite show of the entire fringe. This is no ordinary comedy show. Part stand-up, part personal storytelling, and part uplifting life seminar (but the fun kind—not the corporate slideshow kind), Joe takes the audience on a rollercoaster ride through his life. He covers some big, tough topics—mental health, grief, identity, resilience—but somehow makes them not just palatable, but genuinely hilarious. The emotional weight is there, but it never drags. Instead, it lifts you up. You laugh your way through the pain, and then, when you're not expecting it, something he says hits you right in the soul. It's comedy with a conscience—and it really makes you think.

Joe’s stage presence is phenomenal. He’s instantly likeable—the kind of person you’d happily go for a pint with—and from the moment he steps onto the stage, he has the audience completely in his grip. You don’t so much watch this show as experience it. He creates a safe, welcoming space that somehow feels both intimate and electric.

And let’s talk about the tech—because this show isn't just carried by charisma and clever writing (though there's plenty of both). The use of projections and sound design is genuinely top-notch. The visuals aren’t just decorative—they add depth, humour, and storytelling texture to the whole experience. Whether it’s an absurd image popping up at just the right moment or a subtle audio cue that heightens the drama or the punchline, the technical elements are clearly thought through and expertly timed. It all feels slick, professional, and surprisingly cinematic for a one-person show.

Musically, the two ukulele songs are real highlights. They're not just crowd-pleasing numbers—they’re packed with deeper meaning and emotional resonance. They’re funny, yes, but also reflective and moving. The kind of songs that sneak into your head later, when you're walking home, and suddenly you find yourself thinking about what they really meant. They're deceptively simple and incredibly effective—just like the show as a whole.

And then there's the magic trick at the end. As a fellow magician, I had high expectations—and Joe delivered. It was clever, satisfying, and served as a perfect metaphorical bow on a show that already had everything. The trick itself was good—but the symbolism behind it? Even better. Again: it makes you laugh, but it also makes you think.

And that’s the real magic of Joe’s performance—his ability to turn negative experiences into something full of light, warmth, and meaning. It’s laugh-out-loud funny, yes—but it also resonates on a deeply human level. It's thoughtful without being preachy, emotional without being heavy, and it invites the audience to reflect on their own lives without ever losing its sense of fun.

Overall this isn’t just a comedy show—it’s a heartfelt, hilarious, and thought-provoking experience. Joe's show is a brilliantly executed blend of humour, heart, and stagecraft. With outstanding storytelling, meaningful messages, pitch-perfect tech, and plenty of laughs, it’s a night out that not only tickles your funny bone but also lingers in your mind long after the final applause. You’ll leave feeling lighter, inspired, and thinking about life from a slightly different angle. In a festival packed with performances, this is one that truly sticks with you.