Cambridge comedy can be a repetitive affair, with the same faces and sketches reappearing at smokers and sketch shows across various venues and colleges. But in steps the Wolfson Howler, and everything we have come to expect from the comedy scene of the bubble, gets flipped upside down and inside out, then jiggled all about for good measure. 

Wolfson bar set the scene for the evening; in a far-away location somewhere near Granchester, the extensive wood panelling, open space and sofa-strewn bar achieved the ambience of a true comedy club. 

Charlie Robb, one half of The Good News, brilliantly opened the running with ten minutes of romance-inspired material. His call and response to “I say down”, you say “with the patriarchal presupposed heteronormative regime” prickled the audience, setting what was to become an unexpected theme for the evening – the intertwining of self-mockery with piercing discussions of sexuality.

This cumulated in the final two performances of the night. Cat Stirling took to the stage with an intentionally awkward introduction. Her rambling style took a few moments to click, but, once it did, the stand-up felt like falling into a deep, ridiculous conservation with a best friend after a night out. Cat broached the topics of periods, pregnancy-scares and threesomes with a disarming ease. None of these topics phased the performer or the audience members, and her candid approach to sexuality and bitingly honest delivery prepped the audience for the subsequent headline act. 

The event organisers promised “a glorious set pondering the labels of sexuality”. Mae Martin, a Canadian comedian with accolades from both sides of the Atlantic, and with a host of BBC appearances to her name, delivered this in spades. Mae astutely cut through the ‘trendy’ topic of the gender spectrum, with sharp self-awareness and insightful personal anecdotes. She laid bare her insecurities to the audience, posing personal and engaging questions.

Mae discards and re-writes LBGT+ and female comedy and its out-dated categorisations. Her comedy transcends arbitrary labels and she lets you know it, with nervous energy and bouncing pace. At Wolfson, she battled with stereotypes, pointing to her own short hair as a “lie” in the context of her sexual preferences for both men and women, and inspired matriarchal aspirations in the stories of her mother’s friends, the wine-fuelled and self-titled ‘Goddesses’.

Sasha Brooks completed the female collective, with a powerful wit and charm that deceptively seeped from her innocent stage presence. For her first ever stand-up show, Sasha introduced a perceptive set, including a meta-comedic run-through of stand-up set in conversation with a stranger.

The evening was excellently held together by a furious no holds barred attack on audience members from the compere, Fin Taylor. Audience rapport was whipped up between acts through a rollercoaster ride from the moralistic and mocking exploration of veganism, to the thought-provoking yet side-splitting discussion of social relations in the 21st century – with a guide of how (not) to interact with dead friends on Facebook.

The tone of the acts reflected the demographic of the audience. It was a melting pot of Cambridge- and student-specific in-jokes, such as Charlie Robb’s ingenious tale of facing the wrath of Welsh rugby star, Jamie Roberts, in Life – with shots of unpretentious smashing of structures and stereotypes. From the heartbreak and tears of the opening act, who romantically mourned either his constipation and/or previous relationship, to further challenges to what topics now constitute comedic taboos.

Thrown in to the mix was Zak Ghazi-Torbati’s one-hit belter of a rather different tone to much of the rest of the evening, leaving the audience in awe, disbelief and wanting a whole lot more. A refreshing shift from the flows of comedy about gender norms, sexual orientation, and white privilege, Zak’s serving of start-to-finish hilarity added poignancy to the larger themes running throughout some of the other acts.

The Wolfson Howler presents a comedy club vibe unlike any other found in the Cambridge scene. It gives rising student comics a place alongside award-winning  up-coming names in the wider comedic world. The mixture is a delight to watch, with audience participation in a grander comedic coming-of-age for a welcome range of distinctive acts.