Sam Nicoresti hails from Birmingham and has won multiple awards, including Best New Sketch Act at the inaugural So You Think That’s Funny? competition in 2013, and in 2021, Nicoresti was named the Leicester Square Theatre New Comedian of the Year. Following the 2025 Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Sam’s show Baby Doomer was awarded The Taffner Family Best Comedy Show at the Edinburgh Comedy Awards. She is the first transgender winner in the award’s history.
You made history as the first trans performer to win Edinburgh’s Best Comedy Show. What was going through your mind when they called your name — and how do you feel about that “first” label now, weeks later?
Being the first trans person to do anything ever is a huge achievement and massive responsibility. I remember when I heard my name being called from that stage and thinking, “Oh god, could this possibly be the end of transphobia?”. Thankfully it wasn’t, and I was misgendered at least twice almost immediately after, which was really nice, and reminded me that people still see me as a human being (Man) first and a pronoun-identity-complex only a distant third or maybe even fourth.
Baby Doomer revolves around a misgendering experience in a changing room — one dress, one moment, turned into a comedic and metaphorical anchor. How did you land on that moment as the hinge of your show?
It happened quite naturally, to be honest. That routine came out fully formed, and I didn’t have to do much work on it other than finessing a few bits of phrasing and adding some flavour here and there. That’s gold dust for a comedian. The rest of the show was the normal amount of slog and graft, but sometimes something falls into your lap and all you have to do is pick it up carefully and preserve it as best you can. It seemed to represent so much about what I wanted to say, and then with the EHRC stuff, it took on a greater weight and symbolism, which is one of the only good things to come out of the whole “erosion of trans rights” thing. I alone have benefited from that.
In your past shows (like Wokeflake), you leaned into multimedia or concept structures. Baby Doomer feels more stand-up-forward, tighter. What drove that evolution, and did it scare you?
I self-produced a very small tour of Wokeflake after it was at the Fringe in 2022 and it involved carting around two laptops, a webcam, projector, multiple cables and adapters, and every time we’d get to a venue and have to spend hours setting it all up, and I think at one point whilst watching the umpteenth beleaguered local promoter of a pub venue struggle to keystone a projector I thought, “next time I do this I don’t want any of this crap”. So I wrote a stand-up show. I’ve since added a mannequin, though, so clearly there’s a part of me that’s a glutton for struggling with large bags on public transport.
You originally intended not to talk about gender in this show — until a Supreme Court ruling about the definition of “woman” changed your mind. Can you walk us through that turning point?
I mean, gender was probably always going to come up given that it’s been quite a large focus of my year, but the Supreme Court ruling was such a body blow and made me really want to start connecting more with people in my community. I’d originally been in this headspace of “I did gender in the last show, I don’t want to get pigeonholed as an identity-comic”, but that’s nonsense. I want to embrace being trans rather than shy away from it. I’m not going to pretend it’s just some background facet of my life. It’s front and centre, because other people can’t let us alone, so I’m going to talk about it.
Critics praise your ability to balance emotional material (mental health, transition, PTSD) with high-density jokes. How do you decide, mid-set, when to lean into the personal and when to pivot back to punchlines?
I never pivot away! I’m never trying to conclude with a point. I have in the past, but I’m bigger now, longer in the tooth. It’s all about the jokes, baby. The jokes are all that is and all that will ever be. If you‘re struck by a point, you’ve merely resonated with a set-up, and the joke’s on you, buster!
Media outlets often zero in on your trans identity first. How do you navigate that framing, and how do you want your work to be perceived beyond identity categories?
Yeah, haha, they’re obsessed! Laser-focused, drone strike accuracy. It’s like being transvestigated by Robocop. I don’t navigate it at all. The media is a fake, made-up world of mirrors masquerading as windows, and I don’t bother with it. It didn’t occur to me that they’d all run with the ‘first trans’ thing. I thought they’d be more interested in it being the first year all the awards had gone to women (Ayoade Bamgboye for Best Newcomer and Isabelle Adams for Comedy Club 4 Kids). That’s the narrative, but I think it’s easier for people to call me a ‘trans person’ than it is just to say ‘woman’, so here we are.
You’re doing a London run of Baby Doomer, planning your wedding, and riding the momentum of the award — how do you manage ambition and burnout in tandem?
I don’t. I’ve had a horrible October. I got so tired and sad. My friends are trying to get me to relax more, like how you’d try to convince a sickly child to eat soup. They’re encouraging me to read books and watch movies again so I can remember being a human being with interests, and it’s going well. I’m finally recalling what it’s like to have interests outside of work.
In a recent interview, you mentioned an interest in magic, ritual, and mystical thinking creeping into your work. How do those threads weave into your comedy, and is that something you plan to explore more?
Sounds like the kind of thing I’d say! That stuff’s always been in my longer shows. I did a show called Bedtime about sleep-paralysis demons and nightmares, and I did a show called UFO about aliens and multidimensions. I love weird. If anything, I’ve been letting that slide too much while focusing on the more political end. Next show, I’m just going to go full ham on the occult, and it’ll hopefully be my most polarising work to date.
Are there moments from your Edinburgh run — whether heckles, backstage messes, emotional flashpoints — that particularly challenged or changed you?
No one dares heckle me. They’re all too rapt. I’ve done the Fringe a bunch, and I’ve been going as a punter since I was 17, so I know the landscape quite well. Also, I had a really good team this year. My main trick was to play pool for 2 hours every day from 12-2pm. It took my mind off everything, and also my game really improved. I can get the balls so close to the pockets now, and I rarely, if ever, snap the cue like a twig!
Looking ahead: now that you’ve hit such a milestone, how do you see your next phase? Bigger venues? TV/special/hybrid forms? And do you feel pressure to “prove” that this wasn’t a one-off?
You’re reading my soul. I absolutely do feel that pressure. It’s interesting. You’d think having an objectively good year would convince you that maybe you’re alright at this, but all I feel is the eyes on my back, the daggers in the dark. I’m starting to suspect that no amount of acclaim will ever bring inner peace. For that, we must look to the dharma. We are gates for air to enter and leave. But some of us are Edinburgh Comedy Award Best Show-winning gates. So there’s that. What’s next for me? Well, I’d have to say, hopefully a hit TV sitcom, world tour, Netflix special, and spending more time with the orphan children I co-parent alongside my work building schools in deprived areas of the Cotswolds AONB.
If Baby Doomer were adapted into a film or TV special, who would you cast as ‘you’, and would you keep the dress-stuck scene intact?
I’d cast Lorde and let her do whatever the hell she wants.
Sam Nicoresti will headline at Comedy Bloomers 22 October 2025 (7.30pm. – 9.45pm).at Seven Dials Club, 42 Earlham St, London WC2H 9LA, United Kingdom.
