EXCLUSIVE: BAFTA-winner Jordan Gray on turning fear into laughter in her new tour

There is a particular kind of electricity that fills a venue just before a Jordan Gray show. Half nerves, half anticipation, and entirely charged. I caught Jordan backstage in Brighton, mid-tech rehearsal, moments before the crowd began pouring in. No costume yet, no theatrical polish - just Jordan, warm, sharp, and very ready.

Brighton holds a special place on this tour. It was chosen as one of the first stops for a reason. “I always feel the love here,” Jordan told me, smiling with the kind of relief that only comes from knowing a crowd understands you. Brighton audiences have a reputation for generosity - loud, colourful, emotionally intelligent, and for a show that dances between absurdity and vulnerability, that matters.
Watch our full interview with Jordan Gray:

And then there’s the title of her new show:
Is That a C*ck in Your Pocket, or Are You Just Here to K!ll Me?

It is bold. It is provocative. It is unmistakably Jordan Gray. But beneath the wink lies something darker and deeply real. The title riffs on the old Hollywood line: “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?” - but it also reclaims something far more unsettling. After a previous television appearance that involved nudity and unapologetic trans joy, Jordan received threats. Real ones. Violent ones. Rather than retreat, Jordan did what only a certain kind of performer can do: turned it into theatre.

The show leans into a Western motif - gunslinger imagery, drama, swagger - using spectacle to disarm fear. It’s satire, cabaret, stand-up, and something else entirely. It’s Jordan doing what Jordan does best: taking discomfort and stretching it until it becomes laughter.

Jordan Gray is no stranger to national stages. From The Voice UK to BAFTA-winning television work, Jordan has already occupied spaces many performers dream of. That BAFTA moment - delivered with trademark irreverence when Jordan joked about “just showing up and playing piano” - sits alongside the more chaotic viral moments that made headlines. But awards and notoriety aside, what stands out most in conversation is Jordan’s relationship with humour itself.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jordan Gray (@talldarkfriend)

When I asked how comedy functions in a world that often feels hostile, especially toward trans people, the answer was disarmingly simple.

“Laughter is undeniable,” Jordan said. “Your stomach moves. You can’t help it.”

It’s a powerful idea. Even when opinions clash, laughter forces a physical response. It interrupts certainty. It softens edges. Jordan doesn’t position herself as an activist, nor as a political spokesperson. Instead, she talks about de-escalation. About kindness. About standing on a stage as proof that the ceiling will not fall in simply because a trans woman is telling jokes. And that presence matters.

Jordan’s style has always been gloriously uncontainable - musical theatre training colliding with chaotic wit, sharp writing colliding with self-aware absurdity. There is something fearless about the way Jordan occupies space, but it’s not aggression. It’s playfulness with teeth.

Brighton felt like the right place to witness it. The audience here understands layers. They laugh loudly, but they also listen carefully. Jordan admitted to getting nervous before shows, despite years of experience. That vulnerability - shared casually between tech rehearsals - makes the performance that follows feel even more triumphant.

What struck me most in our conversation was not the provocation, nor the headline-making moments, but the restlessness. Jordan spoke about evolving, about having spent ten years as a singer, then ten years as a comedian, and now feeling drawn toward dramatic acting. There’s a refusal to stand still. An appetite for reinvention. A creative impatience that feels very much alive.

Five years from now, Jordan Gray may well be on screen in serious drama roles. But right now, on stages across the UK, this tour is doing something urgent and necessary. It’s confronting fear with flamboyance. It’s transforming threats into punchlines. It’s proving that visibility - even when it rattles people - does not equal danger. Watch our full interview with Jordan Gray:

As I left Jordan to step into the spotlight, the room filling fast with Brighton’s loud and loving crowd, there was a sense that this wasn’t just another tour stop. It was a reminder of what live performance can do at its best: disrupt, connect, and heal -sometimes all within the same joke.

Jordan Gray doesn’t just perform comedy. She weaponises warmth. And in 2026, that feels like a radical act.