Amy Gledhill: Comedy Spotlight

With only a little over three years of fun under her belt, native Hullensian Amy Gledhill has collated the kind of awards portfolio that would shame a seasoned pro. In her act, she deftly balances the intelligent with the daft – she satirises misogynist hecklers by, er, honking her tits – and she’s been slaying ’em all over the country, finally making the wise decision to uproot from Pontefract and move to Manchester.

Not just a solid standup, Gledhill has also been turning her Midas touch to sketch as one half of Footstool with Nicola Redman, and is one of the minds behind The Castle Hotel’s alternative new material night, Château Le Bomb.

We caught up with her to find out what makes her tick.

Influences:

"I would love nothing more than to wax lyrical about how I am influenced by the usual titans: Vic and Bob, (Daniel) Kitson, Stewart Lee, et al. But I’m probably most influenced by the perceived weighty judgement of my peers, sloe gin and Facebook videos that play without sound as you scroll down the timeline. I’ve just involuntarily watched a raccoon ride a bike: what a time to be alive."

First gig:

"I was living in Leeds at the time, but you don’t shit where you eat, so I booked a spot in a Funny Women competition at The King’s Arms in Salford and slinked off. I remember being totally shocked anyone laughed at me, instantly loving it and regretting not doing it sooner. I ended up in the final of Funny Women alongside the likes of Sofie Hagen before my tenth gig. I have since defined what it is to plateau."

Best gig:

"After much begging and blagging I managed to get on the bill at The Comedy Store in Hollywood. Ridiculous. I was introduced as the Queen of England and basically everything I said got an applause break. This was nothing to do with skill and miraculously everything to do with my Hull accent."

Worst gig:

"Edinburgh festival 2014. I’m doing the first half of a two-hander with Durham Revue star David Callaghan. I hand out four party poppers. It’s difficult to say exactly what happened, but basically four people decided that mini-explosives are best opened directly into the palm of the hand and were injured. And angry. I hadn’t said a single word at this point. I dribbled out half an hour’s worth of words after that, but I don’t think they could hear me over the sound of their contempt."

Favourite venue:

"The Stand in Newcastle. The bar staff are cooler, more attractive and comedy savvy than any comedians I’ve ever met."

Best heckle:

"Well, the most useful heckle I’ve ever had was when I was very new and some reet prick stings repeatedly shouted ‘Tits’ at me. It was upsetting at the time, but generated material, so, big win. I recount the event, making a very serious point that there is nothing funny about boobs, then squeeze my left breasticle and it makes a honking noise. Highbrow stuff."

Aspirations:

"For my mum to have an answer other than 'still trying that weird-y comedy' when Janet from next door asks what I’m doing."

What would you be doing if you weren’t doing standup?

"Sitting in the audience of local standup nights giving the stage the same longing glare I give to the wettest cakes in the window of Patisserie Valerie."

What’s the largest animal you think you could beat in a fight? No weapons.

"A whale. I’d fist its blowhole. Now let’s hear no more about it."

Question from past Spotlighter Will Setchell: What did you want to be at four years old? Answer in the form of a drawing.

8===D---

More from our Comedy Spotlight:

 Daniel Sloss reveals his plans for the coming robot apocalypse

 Stewart Lee on being simultaneously well- and unknown