London-based Taiwanese comedian Kuan-wen Huang explains why London's queer comedy scene is having a moment. A big one.
"That's my first joke gone...."
I was "backstage" — a glamorous way to describe the cheap curtain separating me in the green room and the act on stage currently having a go at a straight couple on the front row. This act also happened to be gay and was now in this middle of a three-minute joke on straight people not doing blowjobs correctly. I remember frantically thinking "What can I do instead?"
London's queer comedy scene is booming right now. The scene I've just described wasn't at a dedicated queer venue, nor a Pride gig. It was a regular Friday night at a comedy club in central London. Yet of the five performers on the line up, the MC was a lesbian, and two of us were gay men.
I'd been performing comedy for almost 10 years by that point. Comedy was the main reason I moved back to London from Berlin. I'd left London to "find myself" in Berlin but instead found English stand-up, and decided to re-import myself to London to pursue comedy as a career. Reality soon hit; stand-up comedy wasn't available to everyone in the same way. The default comedian was still typically a straight man.
That's now changed. Queer people are no longer a token diversity act. Across the capital, LGBTQ+ venues face threats of closure — six in 10 London LGBTQ+ venues have shut since 2006 — and yet the queer comedy scene is expanding, from professional clubs to open mics.
Aside from non-queer specific venues organising shows to celebrate Pride and LGBT History month, events dedicated to the queer community gone from strength to strength. The Queer Comedy Club went from monthly shows in the basement of a pub, to becoming London's first dedicated queer venue in 2023, now hosting five shows a week. With the rebirth of the Divine in Dalston — which took on the mantle of the legendary Glory club, shows like Clandestina — a comedy night for queer women and gender non-conforming people — continue to shine. The Two Brewers in Clapham hosts numerous queer comedy events, while culture savvy audiences have plenty of LGBTQ+ comedy with juicy narrative arcs at places like Soho Theatre.
There's also Comedy Bloomers, the force behind the popular LGBTQ+ New Comedian of the Year competition, that's been a fixture on the queer calendar since 2022 — its final now held at the majestic Clapham Grand. In 2023, Comedy Bloomers launched London’s first LGBTQ+ Stand-up Comedy Festival.
With the expansion of performing opportunities comes a growing number of queer performers. In fact it's not just the number that is increasing — the queer comedy community is also becoming more diverse in style and representation. Which is the chicken and which is the egg? No one knows; it just seems to be a virtuous cycle swirling in a pressure cooker.
Now that a queer comedian can no longer rely on being the token act on a non-queer line up, there's little room left for lazy stereotypical "gay comedy" aimed at straight people (I'm thinking endless Grindr jokes, aggressively flirting with a straight man in the crowd). Acts are actively encouraged to specifically explore unique things about themselves, in addition to sexual orientation. It is harder work, but it is also liberating. Jordan Gray's superb Is It A Bird? made it onto national television. Joe Lycett is known for trolling big corporations (and Liz Truss) on behalf of ordinary people. Rosie Jones champions the rights of the disabled community. I came across a recent viral clip of Zoe Lyons; it was a bit about her Dutch wife. But the joke wasn't about a lesbian marriage per se; it was about her wife's misunderstanding of the English word "vegetative" as opposed to "vegetarian" — a gag about languages. The fact Zoe and her wife are lesbians was purely incidental.
A straight friend once said to me: "A comedy club is just a comedy club. Why does it have to be a queer show? Why can't it be for everyone?" I thought "Mate, you just don’t get it, do you?" When the punchline for many straight male comics is still "I am not gay" or "I am not gay but if I had to suck a d**k…" — or people with Netflix specials still claim to be cancelled while repeating the tired old line "I identify as a shoe" — queer comedy clubs and venues guarantee us the much-needed space to develop and hone our act. Yes, there are d**k and minge jokes here and there. But audiences increasingly expect more original takes on such tropes. These queer shows also allow queer comedians to try out experimental ideas, knowing they are in safe spaces. Gradually they work out how to harmonise the gags for people outside the queer community. In the end, the comedy's there for everyone.
The final of Comedy Bloomers' LGBTQ+ New Comedian of the Year takes place at the Clapham Grand on Tuesday 10 June 2025. Get tickets here.
Kuan-wen takes his solo show Andrews Are The Worst — in which he mercilessly bashes his exes — to Edinburgh this summer.
