Rhys Nicholson’s Huge Big Party Congratulations! Lives Up to Its Celebratory Title
Photo by Monica Pronk
Australian comedian Rhys Nicholson is no stranger to the Edinburgh Fringe, having performed at the festival on and off since 2013. The last time I saw them perform was in 2022, in a reappropriated lecture theater in one of University of Edinburgh’s medicine buildings (they returned to the same room for 2024’s Huge Big Party Congratulations!). The entrance and exit are the same door just to the right of the stage, so it’s impossible for both comic and audience to miss someone arriving late or leaving early. During the performance I saw of Rhys! Rhys! Rhys! in 2022, one audience member clumsily got up to leave, stopped to exchange a few cheerfully drunk words with Nicholson, and assured them he would be back with drinks. Once he had left, Nicholson cut through the bemused crowd laughter with the most world-weary, embittered head shake, uttering, “This fucking festival…”
It’s a good indicator of why Nicholson is such a joy to watch: their natural comic instincts for ad-libbing and onstage reactions are infused with something real and raw, and their exuberantly titled new hour might be the most successful blend of heightened comedy and enduring frustration. It’s not that Nicholson stops the show to talk vulnerably, but that they interrupt their own flow to shriek, guffaw at themselves, and flip out at people’s inability to follow normal etiquette. For Nicholson, “This fucking festival…” feels like a mantra, an ethos, or maybe just next year’s show title.
For an Edinburgh resident like myself, it’s pleasing to hear an international comic kick off a show by pointing out all the ways the city is weird, but once Nicholson stops catering to the local crowd, they show a snapshot of their recent life and childhood that’s sharp, disarming, and strikingly cathartic—especially when Nicholson undermines easy poignancy to confirm they’re a pettier, messier person than we’d expect.
Rhys is 34, they’ve just got married to their long-term partner Kyran, and their comfort with their relationship and identity keeps brushing up against the heteronormative values of young parents in their life. Separate from this, Rhys likes to mess with their partner in really stressful situations, like drug deals, and gets an illicit glee from clocking obvious cosmetic surgery—again, messy and petty. If Huge Big Party Congratulations! has a theme, it’s parenthood, and Nicholson weaves off-kilter observations about life’s weirdos into a loose narrative about the frankly insane burdens parents have to shoulder, while also calling out how inappropriately intense parents are to childless couples.
Something winning about Nicholson is the inflections of style inherent to their performance. Dressed in a glittery blue blazer with metallic nail polish and perfectly quaffed bright red hair, Nicholson screams into the mic a lot for someone who looks this put-together. The clash of pristine style and chaotic persona matches the material’s central tension: “Am I exercising control over my life or not?” There’s also a delightful vein of Gothic references littered throughout the set—Nicholson compares themselves to a wealthy widow being financially exploited, and parents trying to convince couples to have kids become haunting sirens—that gives Huge Big Party Congratulations moments of unexpected macabre glee.
Some observations, such as an earnest wish to fall into a temporary coma or the joys of dubious prescriptions from equally dubious doctors, can also be heard in the vulnerable (or, depending on your perspective, manufactured) recent specials from Bo Burnham and John Mulaney, and occasionally beats of the stoner and young parent material feel more tired than a set this energetic should be. Nicholson is also a reflexive ad-libber and adds asides to most of their punchlines—it’s very rare that these follow-up quips land as successfully as the prepared joke, if they land at all.
But Huge Big Party Congratulations! is packed with memories and anecdotes that Nicholson mostly maneuvers with an expert precision and verve, even if the younger Rhys at the center of them lacks all those qualities. A central childhood story about the intersection of internet pornography and consumer-grade camcorders is so absorbing and theatrical in its telling that you’d be forgiven for forgetting that Nicholson warned that this hour would contain many lies.
It’s because Nicholson is such a playful performer that the stuff that feels real resonates so much—on a heel turn, they can wrangle a mortifying memory into a new touching or absurd state—and it’s clear Nicholson relishes in filling their personal narrative with tonal shifts and emotional rug pulls. Huge Big Party Congratulations! is so exciting and satisfying because Nicholson’s craft keeps us on our toes, but the vulnerability they show feels unmoderated and panicked in a way that feels so ordinary and recognizable. The balancing act pays off—it’s another Rhys Nicholson win at “this fucking festival.”
Rory Doherty is a screenwriter, playwright and culture writer based in Edinburgh, Scotland. You can follow his thoughts about all things stories @roryhasopinions.