When I interviewed Sam Wills – AKA The Boy With Tape on His Face – a few years ago, I presented him as an act in opposition to the TV mainstream and one reconciled to never appearing on panel shows. I thought the same of John van der Put – AKA magic act Piff the Magic Dragon – who seemed to me to distil the spirit of the Edinburgh fringe, which he gratefully credited with launching his career. In neither case was I blind to the act’s commercial potential – but I certainly didn’t expect what happened next, which is that they both entered America’s Got Talent (though neither is American) and rode the crest of newfound primetime celebrity all the way to the final.

A career in the US is now theirs for the taking: Van der Put currently lives in Las Vegas, where he has his own solo show. Wills, a New Zealander, is currently back in his adopted UK home, touring as Tape Face – but one assumes he’ll be back Stateside soon to capitalise on his recent AGT near-success. That’s what ventriloquist Paul Zerdin did. The only UK act to actually win America’s Got Talent, in 2015, the Wimbledon man duly cancelled a scheduled UK tour to take up a three-year contract with Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas. It’s been quite the phenomenon in recent years: well-established UK comedy and variety acts submitting themselves to America’s national talent show and proving that, if America does have talent, it isn’t necessarily amateur, or native, or even resident in the US.

Ventriloquist Paul Zerdin on America’s Got Talent. Photograph: NBC/Getty Images

So what does all this prove? That we sometimes exaggerate the distinctions between mainstream and alternative? Or simply that there are different mainstreams? Wills’ Tape Face act still wouldn’t work on a panel show – which is, for better or (let’s face it) worse, how most young comics in Britain stake their place in the public’s favour. Wills, Van der Put and Zerdin are all old-school variety acts, proponents of artforms (mime, magic, ventriloquism) that they’re having to drag out of varying degrees of uncoolness. You can see what drove them to give AGT a go: certainly in the UK, those artforms can get overlooked – I never reviewed Zerdin’s work until he won AGT – and there are precious few mass-audience opportunities for their practitioners.

BGT finalist Jack Carroll. Photograph: Ken McKay/Rex Features

With the exception, of course, of the interchangeable talent shows that clog the schedules. Those shows feature plenty of novelty acts, and have – very occasionally – brought a comic talent to the nation’s attention (Jack Carroll is the salient example). And yet, there are very few, if any, professional acts from the UK comedy/variety circuit (by which I mean the Soho theatre/Edinburgh fringe/UK touring nexus) to have appeared, far less prospered, on Britain’s Got Talent. Why is that?

You can find some of the answers in this blog by the British comic Jody Kamali, who was (according to his account) persuaded by producers to enter BGT, and ritually humiliated for doing so. For a start, contestants on those TV talent shows are assumed to be, and promoted as, “wannabes” and plucky amateurs, not experienced pros. Then there’s the likelihood that the show is setting you up for a fall – one that could be terminal for a budding comedy career.

I suspect that’s partly why established UK comedy talents are now queueing up to show what they can do on AGT. It’s a bit like Hollywood stars advertising whisky and Rolex watches in the far east: if it turns out tacky, no one at home need ever know. And of course, there can be oodles of money in it. Britain’s Got Talent probably hasn’t set anyone up for life but, as Van der Put and Zerdin may be discovering, riches lie in store for those who parlay AGT success into big gigs in the entertainment capital of the world.

And that’s fair enough. OK, so TV talent shows are as likely to elevate mediocrity as blazing talent: when I did catch up with Zerdin, I found his material a lot weaker than his voice-throwing skill. But Wills’ newfound fame is well deserved. Tape Face became an instant Edinburgh fringe superstar at the turn of this decade, and he’s got a skilful, strange and lovable act that’s capable of entertaining nearly everyone. If TV talent shows are being used, not only to bring unknowns into the limelight, but already-knowns into brighter lights than they’ve yet occupied, that is – at least occasionally – a good thing. And if Simon Cowell happened to credit the Edinburgh fringe and the British live comedy scene, where all these acts cut their teeth, well, that would be welcome too.

Three to see

Kerry Godliman

Very likable straight-down-the-line standup from the Derek star and News Quiz regular, embarking on her second national tour with a new show “looking at all the big issues of the day” (it says here, tongue slightly in cheek).

At G-Live, Guildford, on 6 October; Pavilion Arts Centre, Buxton, 7 October; then touring.



Professor Brian Cox Live

A year after publicly quitting live comedy, Robin Ince is prospering. This week he won the Crick Science Journalism award for his work on Radio 4’s The Infinite Monkey Cage. And this autumn, he’s touring in “Professor Brian Cox Live” with his co-host on that show. Part-comedy, part-popular science, probably worth seeing.



At Sheffield City Hall on 6 October; at Reading Hexagon on 7 and 8 October; then touring.



Dane Baptiste

A second tour of the second show by the man who wants to be Britain’s Chris Rock. On the basis of Reasonable Doubts, which made a splash at Edinburgh 2015, you wouldn’t bet against Baptiste, a wry and thoughtful commentator on race and culture.