“I can’t remember what I was talking about” is probably not the smoothest admission for a stand-up to make mid-set, but our headline act was forgiven under the circumstances. There is surely no tougher test of a performer’s concentration than an audience of crying babies and sleep-deprived parents, but that challenge plays out every month at Bristol’s most unique comedy club.
The Aftermirth gigs were founded by comedian Angie Belcher years ago but, having only just qualified to attend, this was my first experience. The idea of a daytime ‘night out’ would have been hugely appealing to me even pre-baby, but now I have the excuse of a tiny person’s bedtime to skip parties in favour of an early night.
I have been lucky to make friends during my maternity leave and enjoy a few different classes and playgroups, but every now and then it’s nice to have a break from nursery rhymes and bubbles. There are very few ‘grown-up’ events that are also baby-friendly, but Aftermirth is one of them – “you can bring your baby and no one minds if they cry, poop or have an existential crisis”, is the tempting promise from the organisers.
The original venue is the Wardrobe Theatre at Old Market Assembly, which was packed with mums when we arrived for our 11am gig. Pram space is limited so most, myself included, had chosen to wear a carrier or sling to bring baby along. The location is also right by the bus stop, so we didn’t even have to battle any car meltdowns on the way.
Given the popularity of the Old Market dates, which frequently seem to be sold out, it is unsurprising that the Tobacco Factory was recently added as a second Bristol venue. The shows each feature three comedians performing their usual stand-up routines, so expect adult content despite babies aged under one being welcome.
I had expected a few more parenting jokes but the acts we saw had definitely not tailored their set to the audience – there were a few wistful faces in the audience as the comedians recounted tales of hangovers and embarrassing nights out, so the content wasn’t hugely relatable. “Is anyone here on drugs?!” one of them asked the audience, probably expecting something more exciting than postpartum iron tablets.
Regardless of the material, the show was thoroughly entertaining. At £15 the tickets are triple the price of some of the other groups we go to, but it was so refreshing to do something different compared to the baby talk and toys that my maternity leave social life has otherwise been filled with.
The two-hour run time is also a bit of a test of a baby’s tolerance so by the end, half the audience were in tears and the aisles were increasingly filled with parents desperately bobbing and shushing. Being in the same boat, though, no one minded the fussier members of the audience and it all made for a funnier experience.