I TOLD YOU the clowns were coming. 

Not necessarily red in nose and claw, but trained and brutalised by Phillippe Gaulier in Paris, broken down to their base components, then built back up again, full of vulnerability and wonder.

Viggo Venn, Gaulier trained, won Britain’s Got Talent with little more than an unexpected number of high-vis jackets. The Norwegian formed a clown power couple with Julia Masli, a phrase I never expected to write. 

Masli’s own material is all charm, subtle radicalism, and grace. She basically won Edinburgh, with her show ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, or perhaps co-won it alongside brilliant character comedian Lorna Rose Treen.

Talking of the Fringe, every year the conversation is the same: this is not sustainable, for comedians, residents, or anyone other than rapacious landlords.

Though the council is trying to clamp down on AirBnb, young comics told they have to relocate to the Scottish capital to get noticed are forking out increasingly astronomical sums for their month in the occasional sun, with a consequent and noticeable be-poshening of an industry already notorious for its privilege.

Another trend is new acts learning that funny 30 second skits on TikTok are no guarantee of getting through an hour’s worth of material in front of an unforgiving IRL audience — though at least the social media mastery helps them find an audience.

Heading south to Leeds — a sentence Yorkshiremen won’t enjoy — and we find the glorious nonsense of The Lovely Boys, Joe Kent-Walters and Mikey Bligh-Smith channelling the ghosts of doomed kids’ TV presenters with silliness and fun, albeit with a slight undercurrent of terror and menace. 

Kent-Walters won the BBC New Comedy Award with his alter-ego working men’s club comedian Frankie Monroe, and Bligh-Smith is just as brilliant, charming and surreal, particularly when trying to embody the entire water cycle and forcing unsuspecting audience members to join him as part of a portable cloud.

Talking of double acts, the queer duo Shelf had another stellar year, whether singing about Instagram algorithms and gender expectations for adults or being extraordinarily silly for kids. 

All-ages shows are a growing market, and Shelf were worthy winners of the UK Best Kids’ Comedy show this year, their natural chemistry built up over a life of friendship. The fact they both somehow still look about 14 perhaps helped them to win over that toughest of crowds: seen-it-all-before six year olds.

Elsewhere in the very varied world of musical comedy, check out Su Mi for anarchic stage presence and thought-provoking ditties, and Leila Navabi’s show about identity and the aftermath of being a media hate figure (she made a very funny joke about Rishi Sunak — “he looks like Prince Charles in brown face” — that the Mail performatively clutched its pearls at), which was one of the most moving hours of the year.

Navabi explained her comment: “What I will say is that Rishi Sunak  does not represent most brown people, in fact he doesn't represent most people point blank, unless most people have a billion pounds.”

In the world of more traditional stand-up there were two comedians brilliantly challenging Orientalism in a way Edward Said would approve, with contrasting approaches and styles.

Yuriko Kotani is from Japan, but has been a Londoner for ages and is a little tired of all the racism, thank you very much. Her material is relatable, open, and deceptively deep, whether discussing new love, terrible flats or personal monsters.

Blank Peng, meanwhile, is from China, and has a brilliant way of subverting expectations and a fine line in killer punchlines. See her now before she’s stratospheric, or dies suddenly from bird flu.

A shout out to all the promoters, artists and weirdos maintaining spaces, support, and strange DIY nights so that we can find, develop, and nurture new talent. 

We all need to transport ourselves to a magical space, where the normal rules don’t apply, from time to time. Support independent venues so we can all keep laughing into the glorious void.