REVIEW: Nick Helm

Nick Helm is an overweight, 30-something, single, white male, whose material covers living alone, luminous condoms and failed relationships. So far, so conventional. But that is where the comparison to the average circuit comedian ends. Helm’s show is an experience unlike any other in comedy – simultaneously brutal and tender, both needy and confrontational – that gives the audience no choice but to ‘GET INVOLVED.’ As Helm says, ‘THIS IS HAPPENING.’

‘DO YOU LIKE JOKES? DO YOU LIKE JOKES? DO YOU LIKE JOKES?’ Helm spits in the face of an audience member as soon as he comes on stage. Within a minute, he has ripped open his cowboy shirt to reveal his name scrawled across his beer belly in biro. He demands the audience sings along to his songs. He constantly shouts at his stunned punters in a gravelly roar; despite coming from St Albans, his accent seems strangely west country, like Justin Lee Collins’ evil twin. There is no other option but to be dragged along in his seemingly indefatigable wake.

 

But there is a subtler side to his initially aggressive persona. He counters his brashness with bitter sentimentality and genuine pathos. He carries a pink notebook covered in cartoon cupcakes, from which he reads love poetry. In calmer moments, Helm is reminiscent of shambolic poet-comedian Tim Key. He shares an uncomfortably lingering hug with a man originally dragged on stage to be mocked in front of his date. These lulls contrast well with his manic energy, although they can seem worryingly like the product of genuine mental anguish. At one point, he whacks his head on the microphone so hard that it leaves a pink mark on his head for the rest of the performance; Helm demonstrates either admirable dedication to his act, or a concerning disregard for his own wellbeing.

Amongst the shouting, songs, shouting, poems, awkward silences and more shouting, Helm strafes the audience with one-liners. He won the award for Funniest Joke of the Fringe this year from Dave, digital home of endless repeats. ‘I needed a password eight characters long so I picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarves… No-one laughs at that joke any more. THANKS DAVE!’

Unfortunately, the Dave award is a rare accolade for Helm. By his own description ‘multi award-losing’, he has been nominated for – but failed to win – the Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award, Chortle Best Breakthrough Act and the Leicester Comedy Festival Award, and was a finalist or semi-finalist in the Laughing Horse, Amused Moose and So You Think You’re Funny competitions. On the strength of his Bristol performance, this is an outrageous oversight. Nick Helm is not so much a breath of fresh air on the comedy circuit, but a full-blown gale, and he deserves to be recognised. Look forward to seeing much more of him in the future.

This review was originally published in Inter:Mission on 23/10/11.