Gee Norman: A deeply funny meditation on grief
Back in 2013, Perth comedian Gee Norman made waves as a RAW Comedy Competition state finalist. Now over ten years later, he is making his return to the stage after a prolonged hiatus, bringing his debut Fringe World show, A Single Parent without Kids, to Mezzanine Bar at Cheeky Sparrow from Wednesday, February 12, until Saturday, February 15, with tickets on sale now. Heartbreaking, but determined to find humour in his darkest moments and personal tragedies, Gee’s new show promises a deep, but also deeply funny meditation on the experiences of grief and mourning that unite us as humans. BEC WELDON caught up with Gee Norman to learn more about the show and his return to the comedy stage.
Thanks for joining us to talk about Gee Norman: A Single Parent without Kids! Is this your first time gracing the Fringe World stage?
Thank you for having me. It is my first Fringe show, and Fringe World is my first Fringe. I’m a little overwhelmed. I’ve never had to do a press interview before, but I’m excited to release my show to the world.
Your show offers “an honest, heartfelt, and hilarious look at grief, mourning, and the mental health struggles that come with them,” a heavy but very poignant focus for a Fringe show. Can you tell us about the show?
Well, that line encapsulates it pretty well. A few years ago, I lost my two-year-old son to leukaemia, which I know doesn’t sound hilarious, but the show mostly revolves around my experiences trying to come to terms with that and dealing with the way that people treat me differently when they learn that and just everything about my life has changed since losing him.
Comedy is about shared experiences, and losing a loved one is the shared experience. Everyone goes through it at some point; even if your experience isn’t as ‘soap opera’ dramatic as the loss of a toddler, I can guarantee that there are parts of the show that you’ll identify with.
What drew you to telling your story on stage in this way?
Probably narcissism mostly. But that’s just the honest answer that every stand-up comedian should give to that question, regardless of what show they’re doing.
Specifically, this show, though, I think the timing was just right. When my son was born, I took a bit of a hiatus from comedy to focus on being a parent, then the pandemic hit, then we lost him, then his mother and I separated, and then I wallowed in depression for about three years, and I never thought about going back to stand-up because nothing seemed funny anymore.
At one point I was scrolling through one of the streaming apps and I saw stand-up specials, like Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette and Jerrod Carmichael’s Rothaniel, which are very personal, emotional, and introspective shows. I’m not going to be using my show as a therapy session like they did, but after I learned that comedy is allowed to be sad now, I went back over the past three years with a fine-tooth comb and picked out all the funniest things I could remember about the whole ordeal.
You’re returning to the stage after a lengthy hiatus. How have you changed as a stand-up comedian in this time, and how did the subject matter change your approach to comedy and stand-up?
Before my hiatus, I was known for telling one-liners and sometimes throwing in something for the shock value, trying to emulate a Jimmy Carr style. But that was because I started out as a teenager and, ostensibly, a middle-class white guy.
I had not experienced any adversity in any real way. My parents are still together, and they both love me. I had no addictions, and I had no life experience to speak of, so I just made stuff up and fell into the trope of trying to be edgy just for the sake of being edgy. If there is anyone who recognises my name from back then, don’t come to my show expecting this. I am a completely different comedian now.
Since I returned, I’ve been writing more long-form, storyteller-style jokes for a few different reasons. One-liners cannot deliver what I want out of comedy anymore. I still think they’re funny, and they have their place, but it’s not for me now. I don’t want to make people feel bad; I still want it to be as funny as I can be, but I’m talking about some of the worst days of my life in this show, and I can’t give every single line a punchline.
Is there a comedian or troupe from whom you draw inspiration?
I really enjoy comedians who can find the surreal in the mundane. Some of my favourites are Kyle Kinane, James Acaster and Pete Holmes.
But in terms of inspiration, there’s a young comedian that my TikTok and YouTube algorithms keep pointing me back to, Josh Johnson. When I was first starting out in Perth, there was a local comic, who shall remain nameless, who told me, “You need to get a laugh every 10 seconds, or your set is a dud.” And I kind of took that to heart, which is probably one of the reasons why I stuck with one-liners for so long.
But watching Josh Johnson, he absolutely tears that advice to shreds. He can build up a story for a minute or two, sometimes longer, where the crowd is silent, but they are on the edge of their seats, waiting to see where he’s going to go with this. I think he’s been more inspirational in the writing of this show than even I realise.
You also have an Adelaide Fringe season planned. How do you look after your mental health when working with emotionally demanding material?
Therapy helps. The truth is that it’s just a part of my life now. There was a time when it was an open wound, and then it started to scab over, and it would only bleed when it was picked at. But now it’s getting pretty close to a fully healed scar. It’s not 100% just yet. The other day I found one of his bath towels in my wardrobe, one with a little hood with a koala’s face on it, that he looked really cute wrapped up in, and I just started bawling.
I never know what’s gonna set it off, but it’s happening less and less nowadays.
In the show bio, you write, “Because funny things are always happening, even when you don’t feel like laughing.” What kind of message do you hope audiences will take away from the show, if any?
Good things don’t leave scars, so they’re harder to remember.
It sounds corny as hell, but that’s basically what writing the show has proved to me. I have four years’ worth of grief and mourning to scour through to come up with fifty minutes of material for this show. The depressing outweighs the funny by a large margin, and I had to scrape it together with my fingernails, but I found it.
Gee Norman: A Single Parent without Kids hits Mezzanine Bar at Cheeky Sparrow from Wednesday, February 12 until Saturday, February 15, 2025. Tickets are on sale now from fringeworld.com.au