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‘Whenever I see things that have got a cult following, I look around at the audience and I'm like… oh, I think you'd like my stand-up.'

  • Writer: Andy Murray
    Andy Murray
  • 6 days ago
  • 8 min read

Updated: 4 days ago

In the slipstream of her acclaimed first full-length show, 2024's Defence Mechanism, Hannah Platt - a familiar face on the Manchester comedy scene - is taking her second show, Cult Classic, to the Edinburgh fringe and beyond. Hannah talks to Cult Manchester’s Andy Murray about her life in stand-up so far, the joys of doing something different and whether she can stay a cult comic. Photos by Lucy Ridges.

 

Cult Manchester: How would you describe Cult Classic?

 

Hannah Platt: It's changed a bit as I've been doing it, but now the whole idea is, I've decided I'm going to be famous and a success, but I'm going to be one of those people who’s only a success after they die. I'm going, 'it's taking loads of the pressure off, I feel great now that I'm walking around with this secret'. But it's also about cults and the idea of something being cult. At one stage it was more about me going, 'oh, I'm a failure and should I be this and should I be that?' Now it's more like, 'no, I am this. It's just everyone else doesn't believe it yet, but one day they'll see'.

 

CM: You're based in Manchester, but you're from Liverpool originally, right?

 

HP: Yeah, and then I moved to Preston when I was about 10.

 

CM: What brought you to Manchester?

 

HP: When I first started doing comedy, I never really did it in Liverpool. I found myself coming over to Manchester to watch stuff. I'd come to XS (esteemed Manchester comedy night XS Malarkey) a lot before I did comedy myself and that was one of the gigs I wanted to be doing. I just ended up feeling like there was more of a scene in Manchester than there was in Liverpool, especially then. There's not really much of an alternative scene, or there wasn't at the time. I don't really know what it's like now. So, I just ended up moving about eight years ago.

 

CM: So, how did you get into comedy in the first place?

 

HP: I was living in Liverpool and I was really depressed - classic. I had a mate, I was sleeping on her couch, and she ran an open mic night. I'd always go and see comedy - and I'd always been interested in it - but I was just too anxious and too self-aware to do it. It felt embarrassing. Whereas when I felt really depressed, I just thought, 'ah, this won't touch the sides anymore, I'll go for it and that'll be fine'.

 

CM: But you'd always wanted to?

 

HP: Yeah, for ages. Well, it was more that I was so interested in it, but the idea of performing it was terrifying. I had this idea of, 'oh, I'll write it and I'll get someone who's an actor to do it'. Almost like, I'd just do comedy writing. But I think, once I started doing it, there is some accountability to do it yourself. Now I'm fine going up on stage, it doesn't bother me. But it used to be like, 'well, this better be good if I'm going to have to go and stand on stage and say it'. I'm drawing everyone's attention, so it better be for a reason, rather than me just being like, 'what about this? That'll do'. I never think 'that'll do'. I'm always like, this better be great.

 

CM: Manchester seems to have a very healthy ecosystem for comedy just now - XS Malarkey, Fairfeld Social Club, Creatures, The Frog & Bucket and so on...

 

HP: Yeah, it's a nice little community here. It doesn't feel hierarchical or anything like that. There's lots of different levels of things. I'm probably biased because it's where I'm from, but it feels like there's definitely a type of comedy that will do well in Liverpool. There's a certain thing that feels like it works there, because Liverpool's a lot smaller than Manchester, so there can't be so much variety there. Whereas here, because it's a lot bigger, it feels like there's lots of different types of clubs and they can all kind of coexist. There's still things like The Frog, but also there'll be people doing odd little nights.

There's more of a variety, so you can go, 'oh, what kind of comic am I?' And you can find that out for yourself and do what you want to do, rather than being like, 'if I'm not that type of comic, then I won't be able to work.'

 

CM: On one level, doing stand-up is two separate jobs, isn't it? Writing the material and performing the material are quite different things.

 

HP: I can't remember who it was, but someone on some comedy podcast was saying, 'every comic is either a writer first or a performer first and you've got to learn to do the other one'. And I had to really learn how to be a performer. It just didn't come naturally, whereas I loved writing. I've always wanted to be a writer. So, it was like, 'I've got to learn how to look at people. Don't be terrified'. I think I was dead deadpan when I first started. People say I still am now, but it's no way as much as I was. I was, like, stock still. And I was trying to make it like it was a choice, but it was more because I was just so terrified of doing anything wrong. Now it doesn't bother me as much. It feels more like a conversation, where I can look at people and engage with responses, rather than going, 'Oh my God, what if I look at them and they go, this is awful'?

 

CM: How do you feel now when things don't go plan? Do you embrace that?

 

HP: Yeah, I quite like it. I dunno, it's quite fun to have a little bit of that chaos. And because it's straight stand-up that I do, when I can be off the cuff, it feels like a fun thing to bring to it. I don't do crowd work or anything like that. I'm not interactive. But if something goes wrong in the room, probably from doing a lot of club gigs, I can handle it. But that does now mean I'm really good in awful rooms, because I'm having more fun.

I did a gig in Scunthorpe the other week. Just kind of, you know, classic mums and dads who'll go to Butlins on holiday and watch the football and stuff like that. 'A woman on stage doing comedy? She's ginger - let's let her know'. You know, just stupid shit like that. But it was quite fun, because I was thinking, 'well, this is ridiculous, there's nothing to lose here'.

 

CM: If you weren't doing stand-up, what would you miss about doing it?

 

HP: There was an earlier version of this show where I was wondering what kind of person I'd be if I didn't do comedy. What I settled on was I'd be the person that asks questions at film Q&As. I thought that bit was very precise. If people got it, they really got it. But it was that annoying thing that there wasn't any middle ground. People either didn't know what the hell I was talking about, or were like, 'oh my God, yes, that's me'. And some people went, 'well, I feel a bit offended'. But I really like films, and I really like cult films, and I'm trying to link that to the show that I'm doing, relating cults to things being cult, and having their own kind of following. I think I'd still follow stuff like that and just become obsessive about things a little bit more, if I didn't do comedy.

 

CM: What do you get obsessive about?

 

HP: Well, I do like weird films and I like odd bands and stuff. I like going to see things at [Manchester film venue] Cultplex. Last night, me and my friend went there to see Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie. Whenever I see things that have got a cult following, I look around at the audience and I'm like, 'oh, I think you'd like my stand-up.' I almost want to exit flyer and be like, 'hey, do you guys want to hang out?' I feel like that when I go and see bands that I like. I'm just like, 'oh, youse look like you'd like what I do'.

 

CM: It's right there in the name of your show - and our site - so what does 'cult' mean to you?

 

HP: I guess it's just being obsessively interested in something, but it means so much to you regardless of if someone else is interested in it. It's almost like a shorthand for something, that if other people like it, then you feel a connection because it means so much to you. If they also like it, you're going, 'well, we've probably got X, Y and Z in common as well'.

 

CM: If you had a massive break and became huge, would you love it or hate it?

 

HP: I'm not bothered about being on telly or anything like that. It's more about having dedicated people that always are interested in what you're doing. I think the only thing that I'd like about it, and the only thing where I'd want any kind of exposure, is just to reach more people who might be interested in it, even if only 10 people like it, but they love it and they keep coming back - I love that. That's why I quite like doing club gigs. There's always a couple of people at those gigs who are thinking, 'oh, I've not seen something like that before'. I would do that a lot living in Preston. I would go and see random comedy gigs, see people who'd make me go, 'oh, my God, what was that?' Everyone else was doing jokes about how they hate their wife and very basic, mainstream stuff, so if someone was going, 'oh, here's a bit about being queer', I'd be like, 'what is that? That's cool'.

It does feel like that happens a lot. I do end up getting messages on Instagram from people who are like, 'you asked if there were any gays in, and I did want to, but I knew I would be the only one, so I didn't yell'. And I'd be like, 'oh, no, you weren't the only one, because three other people have messaged me that from that exact same gig'.

 

CM: How does it feel heading off to Edinburgh for a whole month with the show?

 

HP: I've been up to Edinburgh for so many years, but this is only my second hour-long show. The first one, I'd been working on it for years and years - without knowing it. You've got all of everything you've ever written to pick from, and you can cherry pick what your 'best of' is. And then with this one, I've only written it in the last year, so it's like, oh shit!

 

CM: It's that 'difficult second album' thing, isn’t it?

 

HP: Yeah, yeah. And also, your first show can be your introduction. No one really knows who you are. People will probably still come not knowing who I am, but you can't still be like, 'this is an introduction to everything about me', because you're meant to be past that now. So, it's like, 'oh my God, how do you introduce parts of yourself to people who don't know you?' While also being like, 'oh - but I can write about other things'.

 

Tickets for Hannah’s Edinburgh show can be found here.

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