Interview with Hike Chahinian

The most compelling theatre often begins with a deeply personal story, and Best. Dad. NEVER. is no exception. Honest, humorous and profoundly moving, the show transforms lived experience into an exploration of family, identity and resilience that speaks far beyond one individual's journey. Ahead of its Edinburgh Fringe performances, I caught up with Hike Chahinian, the show's writer and performer, to discuss turning memoir into theatre, embracing vulnerability on stage and the conversations he hopes audiences will continue long after the curtain falls.

What inspired you to tell this story on stage?

Believe it or not, a brain tumor. A trip to the ER for food poisoning led to its discovery. Thankfully it was benign. Still I was jolted into taking stock of what I wanted in life. As a teenager I’d loved acting, even winning Best Supporting Actor one year for my role in The Diary of Anne Frank. But at uni I’d abandoned the craft for a more practical course. Now Father Time seemed to be goading me to return to my thespian roots. I’d been enjoying Jerrod Carmichael’s and Hannah Gadsby’s solo specials and thought, I want to do that. The thematic material stared me in the face: in the New York Times and elsewhere I’d published essays about striving to raise a self-confident Black biracial daughter despite my scars as a gay Armenian-American. I took inspiration from that work. We could say I was doubly inspired.

What was the first moment you knew this story needed to be shared?

When an editor at O The Oprah Magazine expressed interest in a piece about going on a hike with my daughter and being taken aback by a Black hiker on the trail. Shame on me; my child shared a similar complexion as the fellow mountaineer. Not to mention I was very familiar with feeling targeted as the gay grandson of Armenian Genocide survivors. When readers wrote in saying they recognized themselves in my writing, I learned I wasn’t alone. My experience in the wilderness is one of many messy fatherhood moments I interrogate in Best. Dad. NEVER..

How do you balance humour and heartbreak?

I look for humour in the heartbreak. The best time to laugh is when you’re hurting, no? I’ve found it useful to lead with funny lines. This way we’re all relaxed and feeling good when the heartache hits. Not to worry, the dad jokes overfloweth throughout.

Was there a moment in rehearsals that changed your perspective on the material?

Yes, and I have my bonkers-talented director Sandi McCree (The Wire) to thank. As the writer I’ve appreciated how often she’s said, “Honor the punctuation.” Meaning pay attention to the pacing, and my breathing, as intended in the script.

During one rehearsal I was rushing through a scene wherein I felt rejected by those I loved most. Under her direction, slowing down unleashed all my red-faced, wet feels 😢. Nice that I saw all of it since we were on Zoom. I was surprised how much despair underlies the story because, it’s comedic theatre for fuck’s sake.

How did your collaborators help shape the final piece?

I feel gratitude to so many creatives. My writing mentor Susan Shapiro is Best. Dad. NEVER.’s first collaborator—omg uncredited. Until now?—because she offered invaluable notes in structuring the essays that form the narrative’s backbone.

Greg Walloch (Hasan Minhaj’s Homecoming King) was my creative consultant when I started working on the piece in 2024. He helped me relate the material to the audience, for example prompting me to find bits where I could seek input from folks in the room.

My director Sandi wanted the love between my daughter and me to be even more evident. She’s shown me how to take something that’s as given as the air we breathe, and help the audience feel it viscerally. 

What challenges came with performing your own story?

After my first performances, I found myself speaking by rote, letting the weight of the words do more of the work. Turned out, some of the moments were too painful, and I was hiding. It hasn’t been easy feeling vulnerable and exposing myself emotionally under the banks of lights. Since I’m the one revealing myself though, I have no one else to blame for my sometimes-heightened discomfort. Yet watching a performer squirm can be solid entertainment.  

Were there any parts of the story you hesitated to include?

Oh yes, the parts where I bare my shame. But that would leave about 60 seconds of monologue! There are instances where I’d prefer to back up into the curtain and cloak myself from everyone. Which I actually did during a rehearsal, unaware. My creative consultant Greg was like, step away from the drapery! When I’ve felt the instinct to exclude a detail that made me feel raw, I knew I needed to keep it in, even build on it. To see what I mean, you have to come to the show.

Why do you think memoir-based theatre is so powerful?

Because at its best it provides a window into the unique life of someone else. At the same time, ideally it holds up a mirror to see the contours of our own lives, too.

What do you hope audiences take away from the show?

First, a good time. Laughing and crying with me as the piece progresses. Yet ideally, there will be aspects that linger, lessons about our shared humanity that audiences may process, even as they continue to watch other acts.

Why was Edinburgh the right platform for this work?

Edinburgh’s the right platform for Best. Dad. NEVER. because of the range of art it promotes and the diversity of the crowds it attracts. Really, it’s the platform for anyone who wants their show to be taken seriously, and to be exposed to the most energetic audiences. I’ve been drawn to the chance to experience the Fringe’s openness, vitality, and scope, and to feel its effect on the evolution of the piece and on me, too.

How has creating the show changed you as a person and an artist?

It’s made me a worse dad, having taken so much energy away from parenting. Kidding! My kid’s been away at university(!) while I’ve developed the piece. As an artist I’ve come to appreciate group collaboration, seeing the long list of people who make a solo show. I used to think the individual in the spotlight was doing everything. I even tried to do so at first, a big mistake.

As a person, I feel surprisingly more fearless. No telling just how I’ll tackle the festival once I get there.

At its heart, Best. Dad. NEVER. Is a reminder that the most personal stories often prove to be the most universal. I would like to thank Hike Chahinian for sharing both his experiences and his creative process with me. Best. Dad. NEVER. is playing at Just The Tonic – Mash House (Cask Room) from the 6^th to the 30^th August (not 18^th) at 1:05 pm (60 mins). More information can be found via https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/best-dad-never