The Stand-Up Princess Diaries

Sophia, so good…

ith a string of sold-out nights on her recent Princess Melancholy tour, it’s pretty remarkable that very funny fecker Sophia Wren played Robinson’s recently.

In fact, it may even qualify for being certifiably ridiculous, given that the lady recently won So You Think You’re Funny at the Edinburgh Comedy Festival.

So, for this Kildare comedy queen to be hitting little old Greystones made for a night not to be missed. Even if it is in Robinson’s.

It was as a kid in her native Kildare that the comedian formerly known as Sophia Cadogan first fell in love with comedy, joining her cousin as they secretly watched Billy Connolly videos at their grandmother’s house. Then it was just a hop, skip and a pirouette to the Kildare Youth Theatre, and a journey that has incorporated everything from acting, making short films and working in PR before discovering the joyful exorcism of performing stand-up comedy.

Living the good life in the wilds of her native Kildare, Wren uses her stand-up to address her mental health issues over the years. Well, it’s cheaper than a therapist, and as the great Allan Stewart Konigsberg says, there’s a very thin line between tragedy and comedy. A thin line that Wren has a lot of fun soul mining.

Ahead of her Harbour Bar show alongside John Colleary on Thursday, February 11th, we asked Ms Wren for her comedy inspirations, and just how she got into this funny business…

A couple of years ago I was sitting at home going mental. My bones were full of spiders and static, I was about to float away from earth as an ephemeral mist. I needed an outlet for siphoning off my twisty thoughts, drain the dark glittering swamp in my brain and an excuse to get myself out of the house once a week so I did an introduction to comedy course.

Sophia Wren: The Early Years

I did not expect to do this as a career (even though it had been suggested to me numerous times by friends) I hadn’t even intended to do the end of course showcase in Sin É.

But doing that course cracked something open in my broken brain and I realised I had to keep doing it every week and, according to the rate I started getting booked for gigs, I was pretty ok at it. Three months in I was booked for a Funny Women event on Whelan’s main stage; 9 months in I was signed to an agent. 15 months in I had my debut show, Princess Melancholy, sold out at Dublin Fringe, and I have since taken it to Edinburgh Fringe (Scotsman 4 stars) and will be taking it on an Irish and International tour in the new year.

I’m still mental but now I scream into microphones instead of bothering my friends and family. Sure look, whatever works. Professional help is expensive.

My comic inspirations are…

Robin Williams
When I was a kid, Robin Williams was my absolute favourite actor. Even then I could tell there was some magical alchemy in the way he performed. Not only did he have remarkable comic timing and a tsunami of warmth emanating from him, his skills as an improviser were transcendent. Word has it he used to black out when improvising on set and have to ask what he said afterwards. He was possessed by some spirit of pure comedy and whimsy. Effervescent, otherworldly, there hasn’t been another like him.

Billy Connolly
My cousin, Robyn, and I thought he was the funniest man we had ever seen and would crack each other up by quoting him. I was mesmerised because I was under the impression that this windswept and interesting Glaswegian just got on stage and went on a hilarious rattling stream of consciousness without any forethought. I thought similarly when I watched the first Tommy Tiernan DVD, then at around 10 or 11. Luckily I discovered later on that comedians do tend to write and prepare their sets, thank god for me.

The Simpsons
Like all ’90s kids, I worshiped at the yellow altar every day at 6pm. I still have classic early Simpson’s quotes burnt into my consciousness and they seep into my daily existence. I have even passed them on to my daughter like some congenital condition. Some of the best writers used to be in those rooms.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Veering slightly from straight comedy, this teenage vampire slayer has probably had a bigger impact on me than any other fictional character in the history of the universe. From pretending to slay vampires in the primary school yard, to reclaiming my power and strength when I needed to as a grown woman, this show is pure sparkly brilliance and nostalgia. I still rewatch the series every few years. Plus there is always my adoration for cringe-fail loser, lover-boy, yearning poet, gothic himbo, Spike.

Girls
This show was formative for me in my early adulthood. I even moved to New York when it came out with the delusion that I would either be asked to join the cast or at very least live a lifestyle like them. Does that make me a Marnie? I thought I was a Jessa, so that probably makes me a Hannah. God, I hate myself. Anyway, they didn’t need an unemployed psychology grad from Kildare in the cast, so instead, I got impregnated by Hurricane Sandy. What a time to be alive.

Music
One year I got a Dave Fanning Fab 50 CD in my Christmas stocking and was exposed to Jeff Buckley and Radiohead I think I also got The Beatles Love album and a Best of Bowie CD, and it all made me think I was terribly edgy in my early teens. Sailors fighting in the dancehall… Then, a year later, Mr. Brightside came out, and I evolved into my full white girl form. By the Time Arcade Fire’s Funeral, came out I was cooked. There were also the Nu metal, emo and Metallica obsession days.

I always maintained my flame for sad broken boys with guitars and pretty words. It’s an affliction that plagues me to this day (see Spike, above). Luckily, as I matured and the hormones settled I remembered women exist and my playlist is currently filled with girly, dream pop; Joni Mitchell, Lily Allen, Chapell Roan, Kate Bush, selected songs from endless West End/ Broadway soundtracks, Bon Iver, and Jeff’s dad, Tim Buckley.

Bo Burnham
This special came out when the world was stuck at home, and right when my dark and twisties were about to take hold. It was a perfect encapsulation of declining mental health, biting social commentary and a scathing reflection of online culture. Very Art. When I started writing a show I wanted to be able to make something that could have the audience laughing one moment and then be confronted by a poignant moment. It’s genius.

The Marvellous Mrs Maisel
A young mother and house-wife has her life fall apart so she stumbles onto a stage drunk one night and tries stand up comedy. She also wears gorgeous dresses. Self explanatory. Need I really say more.

You can grab your ticket for Sophia Wren at The Harbour Bar on Thursday, February 11th here, and follow the punky princess on Instagram here, TikTok here or the dead parrot that is X here.