James Trickey’s debut Edinburgh Fringe show, Don’t Count on Me, opens with a bait-and-switch: the comedian appears in sunglasses raving to techno music, then deadpans, “I’m a chartered accountant.” This pivot from suave to schmuck sets the tone for a set that is expertly constructed but not always precise in its punchlines.
Trickey delivers his hour in an unusually imperious style, a high-status approach rare for a fringe newcomer. While this chutzpah is admirable, it comes at the expense of warmth, drawing comparisons to a young Jack Whitehall. His material draws heavily on his background as an accountant and mathematician, exploring themes of identity, family, and risk.
The show covers his dual heritage (old white dad, Cambodian mum), a passion for tomato puree, and a kids’ trust fund based on Subway loyalty points. A section on probability and expectation includes a weak rap and reflections on quitting accountancy for stand-up. Some jokes, such as one justifying racism by a country’s GDP, land only weakly, while a routine about an ageing white dad taking his young Asian son to school feels unpleasant.
Despite these missteps, Trickey’s technical skill is evident. His gamble on comedy looks likely to pay off, as he demonstrates a clear talent for constructing a debut fringe show, even if his material selection occasionally lags behind his technique.
