On March 29, the then 30-year-old comedian Charlie Stevens took to the stage at Les Folies Angevines cultural complex in Angers (Maine-et-Loire) for the city’s first English-language stand-up show.
The venue marked a full circle – it was also where his comedy journey began some 11 years earlier. As a student at the University of Angers, he had performed as part of Talent Show, a stand-up comedy event organised by the student union.
Born in Southampton, Mr Stevens spent many summers in Brittany where his parents owned a mobile home near Concarneau (Finistère) before they moved permanently to Segré, a town north-west of Angers, when he was eight years old.
In the years after his university debut, his stand-up career took him to Malta and Paris, before he settled in Brussels.
He is now part of RED MIC, a pan-European stand-up comedy platform producing English-language shows across Europe, of which the Folies Angevines was one of many sold-out venues. RED MIC has since added a second date at the venue on September 27.
Connexion: How did the RED MIC show in Angers come about? Was it luck, or did you actively push for it?
I lobbied for it. Fedor Ikelaar, the founder of RED MIC, prefers smaller cities without established comedy scenes. I knew there was a large expat and Erasmus community in Angers, and thought there might be an audience. It was a bit of a shot in the dark to be honest. To my surprise, it sold out a week before the show.
Check out the competition
In recent years, bilingual comedy has gained ground in France.
Tatty Macleod is a British-French comedian whose work is shaped by growing up between the UK and France. Raised in Brittany by a British mother, she first gained attention online with viral sketches poking fun at French and British habits, language, and social norms. She performs in both English and French, blending themes of identity, belonging, and everyday absurdities.
Born in the UK, Paul Taylor spent part of his childhood in Switzerland and France before returning to England, where he studied languages at university in London. He moved to Paris in his 20s for work, and also began performing comedy. He rose to prominence with his French-language show #Franglais, which humorously explores the quirks of living between two cultures, focusing on language, misunderstandings, and everyday life in France from an outsider’s perspective. He is also known for his TV series on Canal+, What the Fuck France?, What's Up France? and Stereotrip.
Connexion: What is the audience like at these shows?
It varies by location. Usually, it’s a mix of expats living in the city, locals connected to the international community, and tourists.
In Angers, I was really curious to see who would turn up. I feared empty seats or a crowd of locals who confused it for a French comedy show, because that happens sometimes.
As it turned out, the crowd was diverse in age and background. There were more locals than expected, including students. I remember a Canadian lady who happened to be there because her Austrian boyfriend had moved to Angers. It was people like that. There were Britons living in France and even a couple of friends.
It was a lovely, lovely night, not least because everyone stopped at the end of the show to congratulate the comedians. I’ve never been asked for a picture before, but it happened.
Connexion: Was the success in Angers a one-off or could this model work in other French cities?
It depends on the town and the venue size. Angers was a risk because we booked a 140-seat venue, but smaller venues of around 50 to 60 seats might be more manageable. Based on my experience, cities such as Toulouse, Bordeaux, Lyon, Rennes, La Rochelle, Brest or Tours could work well.
These places have international communities, expats, students and professionals who often feel a bit lonely and want to reconnect with their culture. When something like this comes along, it usually turns out to be quite a successful event because of that emotional aspect.
Connexion: How do you adapt your comedy for an international audience, especially when English is not their first language?
I adapt jokes to fit the audience. For example, if I mention Southampton, where I was born, I have to explain the references to Craig David or the Titanic for non-British audiences.
But there are also universal expat stereotypes that work everywhere, such as joking about the Dutch being stingy, the Germans not laughing, the Spaniards being loud or the French being arrogant. The challenge is balancing local references with broader humour.
Connexion: You mentioned a joke about Scottish accents being hard to understand. Would you do that joke in Scotland?
No, I wouldn’t. In the UK, especially with Scots in the audience, it could come off as offensive or lazy. But international audiences often do not know the political or cultural sensitivities between England and Scotland.
Expats tend to be more open-minded because they have experienced being misunderstood themselves. Comedy relies on context. ‘Punching up’, ie. joking about those in power, is generally safer than ‘punching down’, ie. targeting marginalised groups.
Doing it with an Arabic or African accent would be punching down. Joking about the French or Italians might be acceptable in an expat setting, but it can still offend locals.
The reason I think the Scottish joke is slightly better than low-hanging fruit is because I think a Scottish person would agree. If you’re looking to improve your language, Glasgow might not be the easiest place to start!
Every community has its own standards, and international audiences often laugh at stereotypes because they recognise them as shared experiences.
Connexion: Have you considered performing in French?
I did and it was the worst experience of my life [laughs]. French-speaking comedy tends to be very theatrical. It’s a bit clownish, goofy. I tried once but the jokes didn’t really work. Also, I was doing it in Paris, which is like doing comedy in English in London. It’s so cut-throat.
You once said: “Without Brexit, I would lose 50% of my jokes.” Does that still stand?
It’s changed. Brexit now is met with a bit of a groan, like: “Oh God, what a s**tshow.” These days my shows are less topical and more personal. I’m working on a debut hour-long show. It’s not all about Brexit but rather my family and what it’s like living abroad.
