I’ve always been a fan of themes.

Whether you’re talking parties, blogs, parks - you name it - chances are, I will enjoy it more if it has a theme of some sort.

I’ve always felt that a theme creates focus in a world which is otherwise disorganised, erratic and irrational. A theme allows you to let all outside issues lay dormant while you pinpoint something in particular and (most often) celebrate it. (If we were to delve further into this, I would go as far as to say that I theorise that many academics continue their studies not out of passion, but because the more time spent concentrating on a specific subject (or theme), then the less time spent having to deal with the real world. The same goes for hard-core comic book nerds. In fact, the same rule basically applies to everything we create to distract ourselves from the problems of life and our inevitable death. But we’re not delving into this, so I’ll not mention it.)

I gave my first show a theme because I knew that my name wasn’t going to be a drawing card. It’s hard to stand out in a festival programme of thousands of acts when no one’s ever heard of you, so I decided to write my debut solo show about Superheroes. This way I could differentiate myself from all the other performers, and punters would be more willing to take a gamble on a show if they at least had a vague interest in what it was going to be about.

My second show was supposed to rely on my newly aquired abilities as a comedian to attract a crowd, but because comedy is an art and art imitates life and life cannot be planned, this didn’t end up being the case. As my show took shape and grew, it became apparent that the entire thing had to revolve around the theme of growing up. I then realised that even when I tried to write without a theme, a theme happened to find me.

The problem with theme shows, is that sometimes you make the unhappy discovery that a certain bit of material isn’t as funny as you thought it was when it’s not in the context of your show. It means that while you can easily perform an hour’s worth of comedy on Superheroes, you might necessarily only be able to use 15-20 minutes of that material in a standard gig. It’s all very good during Festival season, but once you get back to doing spots, it can be quite problematic.

Because of this, some close friends of mine challenged me to write my next show without any theme whatsoever. If I can perform an hour’s worth of material which doesn’t necessarily need to be in any order, or have any definitive segues, then I definitely wouldn’t have any problems whipping together a set to perform during the rest of the year. The problem is, without a theme, my writing has come to a complete and utter standstill.

I’m so overwhelmed with how much I could write about, that I’m having trouble pinning down any one topic. It’s almost like when you blow bubbles at a child and they go mental; flailing their arms around in a panic, not aiming for any bubbles in particular, but just hoping that by blindly swinging their limbs everywhere, they’ll eventually pop one.

I feel a bit like I’m flailing my arms around at the moment.

I’ve always known a show’s theme and title before I’ve ever completed one. I think I work better knowing that I have boundaries. By eliminating certain things to talk about, I give myself permission to indulge when it comes to the things I can talk about and its those indulgences that form my shows. If you were to blow just one or two bubbles at a child, rather than hundreds, you’ll find they’ll pop those with the precision of the most dangerous sniper.

So I’ve come to a cross-roads: do I forgo the comfort of a theme and hope that I come out the other side a wiser, more confident and sharper comedian? Or do I play to my strengths and continue providing my audiences with the well-rounded, formulated shows they’ve come to identify me with?

I have 3 ideas for my next show:

“Bec Hill in: Becurious”
This show would be a completely random mix of stand-up and flip-chart sketches. While you wouldn’t know what to expect, this could be a good thing. It would also guarantee no boring “here’s the moral of the show” talky bits.

“Bec Hill in: Now is Electric World!”
This would be a heavily themed show about our reliance on technology - specifically computers. (The name comes from me overhearing a man complain to his friend in broken English about a lack of emails or texts.)
This could be dangerous, as I don’t really have any material on this at all, but I reckon I could easily write some, as it’s a subject I’m very keen on.
The pièce de résistance of this show is that it would be performed using no modern technology. (Yep, no microphone, no sound system and no electric lighting.) However, I wouldn’t want the comedy to rely on this, as I would want to be able to perform my material outside of the show (and I don’t know of many Amish gigs).
I would perhaps even think about trying to write and promote the show without directly using modern technology, but this would be considered later.

“Bec Hill in: Bectime Stories”
I grew up in a Medieval Re-enactment Society (meaning every month, my family would dress up in period costume and attend feasts in community halls). My Dad was a Storyteller, so after each feast, he would “address the court” and regale us with tales which would have been told by travellers in medieval times. Dad has long-since given up his storytelling hobby, but I would love to carry on the tradition.
This show would encompass stories old and new. Some of them true, some of them fiction and all of them comical. My flip-chart characters (or paper-puppetry as I like to call it) would definitely play large roles in this.
The downside of this idea is that storytelling is a fine art, and probably not one I could master in just one year. It would also be incredibly limiting in the amount of material I could use in normal stand-up gigs.

So now it’s your choice. As a friend, or fan, which show would you want to see? Vote by clicking here.