Sam Williams’ debut hour, Touch Me Not, sets itself the ambitious task of unpicking the apparent contradictions of being both Christian and bisexual. It is a theme not often explored in stand-up to say the least, and Williams approaches it with candour, irreverence and a willingness to take risks that – sometimes – pay off brilliantly.
The material is deeply personal. Williams reflects on growing up within the rituals of the church, the influence of his grandmother’s faith, and the clash between religious expectation and sexual discovery. These stories carry a testimonial intimacy that makes for a weighty routine. At times, he slows into moments of reflection that draw the audience in with their vulnerability. In those passages, the humour feels earned from honesty rather than performance.
Just as often, though, Williams dives into explicit territory. He juxtaposes teenage fantasies and sexual misadventures with spiritual musings, pushing against taboos with graphic detail. The abruptness of the switch – from hymns to hook-ups – is both the show’s hook and its challenge. The shock value raises laughs, but the shifts in tone can feel jarring, leaving some threads of narrative hanging.
When he finds the right balance, the comedy is sharp. His account of working in marketing, trying – and succeeding – to make a cat food brand go viral, lands as one of the funniest sections of the show precisely because it grounds his wit in absurd, everyday detail. Likewise, the collision of eroticism with religious ritual provides a seam of material that Williams mines with originality.
“…Williams approaches it with candour, irreverence and a willingness to take risks that – sometimes – pay off brilliantly.“
The performance itself has charisma. Williams is relaxed, conversational, and unafraid of silence when it serves him. He has the confidence to let the audience sit in discomfort before twisting it into laughter. His best moments are those that hold contradictions side by side: the desire for belonging in faith, the freedom of sexual expression, the confusion of trying to reconcile the two without apology.
There are rough edges. The pacing is uneven, with stretches that feel more earnest than comic, and punchlines that don’t always justify the long build. Some of the more graphic humour risks overshadowing the tenderness of the material, and the thematic through-line occasionally falters as the show ricochets between testimony and provocation.
Yet, there’s something compelling in that messiness. Touch Me Not may not be the most polished debut, but it is brave. Williams does not neatly resolve the contradictions he raises, nor does he aim to. Instead, he stages them, using comedy as both shield and scalpel. The result is a show that may not land evenly with every audience but leaves an impression of a comic unafraid to risk discomfort in pursuit of honesty.In the end, Touch Me Not succeeds less as a seamless comedy hour than as an introduction to a distinctive voice. Williams’ mix of the spiritual and the sexual is unlikely to please everyone, but it ensures he is not easily ignored.
Show details
Venue: Venue 33: Below at Pleasance Courtyard
(Google Maps)
Date(s): Jul 30 – Aug 25 (not the 11th) (26 shows)
Time(s): 5:50 PM (1 hour)
Age recommendation: 18+
Price: From £13 (concessions available)
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