Balls Deep… With Laughter: Brighton’s new queer comedy night finds its voice

There’s something quietly electric about arriving at a comedy venue just before doors open. The room hums with anticipation, chairs still warm from being stacked, microphones tested one last time, and somewhere backstage a performer is reminding themselves to breathe. That was the atmosphere at The Brunswick in Hove as a brand-new queer comedy night prepared to make its debut: Balls Deep… With Laughter.

The mastermind behind the night is Brighton-based stand-up comedian Darren Goodwin, who greeted me with the kind of calm confidence that only comes from knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be - even if your surname happens to feel suspiciously on-brand. Minutes before the show kicked off, Darren was juggling roles: host, producer, comic, community cheerleader, and all-round ringmaster of what promised to be a very gay, very chaotic, very joyful evening.

The idea behind Balls Deep… With Laughter didn’t come from a desire to reinvent comedy, but from a frustration many queer performers know all too well. Darren spoke candidly about years of being “the token gay” on mixed bills - welcome, tolerated, but rarely centred. Rather than waiting for more inclusive spaces to appear, Darren decided to build one himself. Brighton, after all, thrives on queer creativity, and comedy felt like a natural next frontier.

What emerged was a night designed not just to entertain, but to showcase. A platform for LGBTQ+ voices, queer humour, gay chaos - the kind that doesn’t need to explain itself or soften its edges. This wasn’t about fitting into mainstream comedy spaces; it was about carving out one where queerness wasn’t a footnote, but the headline.

The lineup reflected that ethos perfectly. From musical chaos merchant Felix Le Freak to Brighton comedy staple Marti Delon, from the sharp wit of Shelley Gates to the unapologetic energy of Anthony Murley, the stage was set for a night that refused to sit still. The evening was also joined by Chester Freitas, Paggy, and Mikee Martelle - a mix of performers bringing different styles, rhythms, and lived experiences, all bound by a shared sense of community.

But Balls Deep… With Laughter wasn’t just about laughs. Darren made a point of inviting staff from Brighton’s Lawson Unit - the city’s central hub for HIV support and treatment - to attend as guests. It was a small but meaningful gesture: recognising the labour of care, offering joy where possible, and reminding everyone in the room that comedy can still hold compassion at its core.

I also caught Felix Le Freak moments before taking to the stage - and the conversation was exactly as delightfully chaotic as expected. Leaning fully into absurdity, Felix joked about thinking the night was a dating show audition before admitting that the blend of drag, comedy and storytelling isn’t a calculated concept at all, but simply the result of curiosity.

Rather than choosing one lane, Felix throws every creative instinct “into the pot and sees what boils up.” Beneath the mischief sat genuine advice: don’t chase performance for money or fame - chase it because you can’t not do it. If an idea feels too strange or too silly, that’s probably the one worth sharing, because someone in the audience is waiting to recognise themselves in it.

That balance - irreverent but intentional - felt central to the night’s identity. This wasn’t comedy for comedy’s sake. It was comedy as gathering, as release, as resistance. A chance for LGBTQ+ audiences to see themselves reflected on stage without caveats or compromises, and for performers to play to a room that already understood the joke.

As the venue began to fill, the nervous energy shifted into excitement. Friends hugged, drinks were poured, and the familiar buzz of a Brighton crowd took hold - that particular mix of anticipation and mischief that signals something good is about to happen. Darren, moments away from opening the night, remained disarmingly grounded. There was no bravado, just pride - in the lineup, in the concept, and in the community that showed up to support it.

Balls Deep… With Laughter feels less like a one-off event and more like the start of something overdue. A reminder that queer comedy doesn’t need to ask permission, and that when given space to flourish, it brings people together in ways that feel both cathartic and necessary.

If this opening night was anything to go by, Brighton has just gained another vital queer space - one punchline at a time.