This coming week in Durham the sketch comedy scene will almost inevitably be dominated by WitTank vs. the Durham Revue, a show set to be the one of the comedic highlights of the year. However, anyone who thinks that that is the only sketch comedy taking place will miss out one of Durham’s best kept secrets, the award winning Microcomedy. They perform incredibly clever, disturbingly dark, low-key sketch comedy. The audience, as well as the performers, is welcomed onto the assembly room stage which is lit with small desk lamps. Then before their eyes a plethora of sociopaths, weirdos, freaks and victims are paraded in front of them, all met with deliciously guilty giggles and often outright guffaws. It is with some caution, then, that I go to meet the people behind such a macabre creation.

Sunk deep into leather sofas in St. John’s College I’m joined by former Chortle Student comedian of the year Donnchadh O’Conaill, dressed in his trademark “accountant chic”. He is surprisingly animated in real life, a contrast to the quiet psychopaths he tends to portray on stage. There is also co-founder Rob Henderson whom O’Conaill suggests I describe as a gangly stick-insect. Rob nods sadly, “It’s because I’m tall and thin” he says, channeling the same loveable vulnerability that Microcomedy fans will have seen at work within their sketches.

The two of them formed Microcomedy in the November of 2007. “I rang Rob from the Fringe” Donnchadh explains, “I had seen a show called The Gently Progressive Behemoth which was mainly just talking to the audience. It was incredibly fluid. So I rang Rob and suggested we should do something similar in Durham.” “And I agreed,” confirms Henderson. “All a bit boring really,” Donnchadh continues, “we should probably have met in the dead of night and exchanged blood with each other or something. That would be much more interesting.”

So the first Microcomedy was written, due to be performed after DULOG’s performance of The Mikado. It was a crushing failure. Not anticipating a huge audience, when 80 people showed up it became very apparent that not everyone was going to fit on stage. O’Conaill describes what happened: “It was a disaster. It was a bit like the stuff we do now – except being shouted so the auditorium could hear. And we had to use the stage lights, which hadn’t been rehearsed. We were just shouting every time we needed them up or down. Also Rob had the set list written on his arm, so everyone thought he was checking his watch for some pressing engagement. Terrible.”

Fortunately, despite this opening setback, Microcomedy has gone from strength to strength (winning “Best Comedy” at Durham Drama Festival this year) and cementing a line up that consists of the third male performer, the ridiculously charming, though absent, Michael Umney (in his absence there is quite a heated debate as to whether he is more like a young Hugh Laurie, or a young Hugh Grant. Possibly even Richard E. Grant…) and a female performer – which this year has been somewhat rotated. I compare it to guest-hosting Have I Got News For You, while Donnchadh suggests its more like drumming for Spinal Tap. However Tessa Coates, the newest member of the group, looking somewhat sleepy in the corner, is adamant that it is really like being a Bond girl.

Over the course of this year “the girl” has been played by Becca Mackinnon, Sophie Zeldin-O’Neil and the Revue’s Stevie Martin. An impressive amount of talent, to say the least. Despite that O’Conaill and Henderson are both in agreement that Coates is the best female they have had. When asked what it has been like joining the group, who have all been working together for quite sometime, she responds with endearing humility. “It’s been very tricky, quite intimidating. They are all very clever and I’m not. I don’t understand half of the jokes. I have learnt an awful lot though. For example you can’t cross the room, and you can’t catch the tortoise.” She pauses to nod sagely, while Donnchadh laughs in the corner insisting I write all this down to see if anyone understands it. I ask her if she gets on with them all. “Donnchadh is sometimes mean without meaning to be*, Rob is the only nice one. Michael is definitely mean.” (Approached after the interview Umney went on record as saying, “Well. Fuck her then. I’m not mean. I’m a fucking puppy. I say, that fellow is dripping with sweat.”)

*He told her she looks like Bridget Jones. Bastard.

The show Tessa has joined them for is the show they will be taking to this year’s Edinburgh Fringe Festival, a collection of the best sketches from throughout the year. They are written by O’Conaill through default – “He used to beat me down until I wrote some sketches. But they were very ordinary, where as Donnchadh’s were very good. So now he writes it all,” explains Henderson. The show has had some help from East director Matt Dale-Harris and WitTank founding member Rob Leworthy. I ask them if they have any favourite sketches. Tessa describes her favourite as the interpretive dance sketch, in which Henderson, as her Doctor, informs her of her terrible condition through the medium of dance. Rob himself prefers the adoption sketch, a fan favourite from their post-DDF show, featuring one their most memorable lines – “That’s quite enough talking for one day.” “It’s like a tiny, dark play,” says Henderson, “Each character has their own narrative, their own story. Plus it’s so very dark.” “A lovely metaphor for what Microcomedy is,” remarks Donnchadh.

When asked about the influences for Microcomedy, O’Conaill enthuses over some Peter Cook sketches from the 70s which were particularly dark. “There was one with a taxi driver, driving an MP. During the course of the sketch it becomes apparent that the driver intends to kill the MP without him ever saying it outright.” Rob furrows his brow. “I have no inspirations,” he says, finally. “Oh no wait… no aspirations. I have no aspirations. That’s it.” Another thoughtful pause. “Can I count myself as an inspiration?” General consensus is that at the fringe they would just quite like the critics to enjoy the show. Although Rob would like a 7.30pm Saturday night BBC1 slot. With lots and lots of money.

As for the future they all have different projects they’d like to do. Donnchadh mentions a one man sketch show, as well as a desire to stage a play in Castle’s Lowe Library. Henderson has been thinking about a Vietnam musical entitled Apocalypse Now That’s What I Call Music! featuring a song about how “riddling a peasant woman with holes won’t fill the hole that you left when you left me.” Or something like that. Tessa has written a one hour long play called Through your under-your-chin, which she explains, very concisely, involves her and Charlie Warner (whoever he/she is) dressed as dogs, and at some point Alex Bhat (that one from Singin’ in the Rain) lying on the floor with a drill. It makes sod-all sense, but then again it is a sequel to The Eggshell (not of a boiled egg… parenthesis.** 

**Coates explains that writing parenthesis instead of the using the symbol “)” is deliberate. “What bollocks.” says Henderson. “Indeed.” O’Conaill agrees.

So what can an audience member expect to take away from a Microcomedy show? According to Henderson, “Misery. Horror. Massive guilt. That same feeling you get when you see a fat person crossing the road, and a cyclist coming down a hill on a perfect collision course. And you say nothing, but laugh. The audience should see really awful things, then feel terrible for laughing. They are the innocent bystander, who ceases to be innocent by choosing not to get involved.”

Microcomedy are giving a FREE preview of their show at 4.30 this Wednesday, 24^th June, Assembly Rooms Theatre.

They will be performing at the Rowan Caves in Edinburgh from the 8^th to 29^th of August. (Excluding the 16^th and 23^rd.)