Farewell to the pun of the year. The Edinburgh Festival’s “best joke” award – that beloved, cringe-worthy tradition – has been retired after 17 years. While its disappearance won’t spark national grief, it marks the end of a quirky fringe institution that reliably generated headlines and heated debates.
Since its 2008 debut, the award aimed to capture the festival’s spirit in a single punchline. Selected by critics and voted on by the public, it highlighted the sharpest bite-sized humor each year. Yet the winner’s announcement always stirred controversy. When Lorna Rose Treen won in 2023 with her zookeeper-cheetah joke, she faced online backlash (The Sun even declared her victory had “killed comedy”). Last year, a Herald article called it Edinburgh’s “most heated debate.”
The outrage seems excessive for what was simply a celebration of laughter. Comedy is subjective – we’ll never all agree on what’s funny. But we all enjoy a good (or at least groan-worthy) joke, much like those cheesy Christmas cracker quips we happily share. The award made sense in this way – easily repeatable jokes spread joy through social circles. At a major comedy festival, crowning a crowd-pleasing one-liner feels natural.
However, reducing live comedy to standalone jokes is problematic. How often has someone’s “hilarious story” left you stone-faced? Humor depends on context – a comedian’s delivery, audience energy, and perfect timing. The award’s text-only format stripped away these essential elements, leaving even brilliant lines feeling flat.
This explains why the list often disappointed. It overlooked physical comedy, timing, and tone – the lifeblood of live performance. As both a critic and Edinburgh Comedy Awards judge, I’ve seen shows that left me breathless with laughter, yet rarely featured in the best joke rankings. Last year’s best newcomer Joe Kent-Walters transformed into Frankie Monroe, a Rotherham club host with eerie white makeup and suggestive movements. His act wasn’t packed with neat one-liners, but its full-body comedy lingered long after curtain call.
Similarly, Julia Masli’s 2022 word-of-mouth hit “ha ha ha ha ha ha ha” contained no traditional jokes. The trained clown played a near-silent agony aunt, building magic through audience connection. The humor came from shared vulnerability, not clever wordplay.
Readers browsing past winners likely never burst out laughing. Yet the award added to the fringe’s festive spirit – so much so that the unofficial ISH Comedy Awards will continue the tradition this year. The punchline survives, and that’s something worth celebrating.
[Anya Ryan is a freelance journalist and former Edinburgh Comedy Awards judge (2023-2024)]
