Joining the Dot

At the end of last year’s Fringe, theatre tycoon Nica Burns (who bankrolled the comedy awards to the tune of £250,000 of her own money) declared Edinburgh Festival 2009 to be "The Invisible Dot's year".  

Its shows—Tim Key’s The Slutcracker, Mark Watson’s The Hotel and Tom Basden’s play Party—were all critical and commercial hits, peaking with Key taking home gold in the form of the coveted Edinburgh Comedy Award. London transfers, international festivals, even a radio series were to follow, making 2009 a phenomenal success for The Invisible Dot and all those associated with it. With one problem – nobody quite knows what, or who, the Invisible Dot is.

On the surface, the Invisible Dot brings shows to the festival. Flying the Dot colours again this year, Key has been back with a six-night run of his "poetical shitstorm", The Slutcracker. He has been joined on the books by Party star and 2009 best newcomer Johnny Sweet, Perrier nominee Alex Horne, and John Luke Roberts. Interestingly, though, all show hallmarks of the Dot's slightly left of field, shambolic comedy: Sweet's show is essentially a "“stupid, massively divvy” hour-long lecture on the recently decommissioned naval brigade the HMS Nottingham; Horne brings four nights of jazz and comedy fusion (“the most fun I’ve had on stage with the most talented people I know”); Luke Roberts tells me his hour comprises of "whimsical, esoteric comedy to distract the audience from the brutal, bloody, sickening, foul murder I’ll be committing”.

Given the success of all four over the past weeks, one gets the impression that theirs is somewhat of a stable for fine, creative comedy. I start to wonder how you go about getting involved with an organisation which is earning itself a reputation for being not only very inventive, but also fiercely private, even secretive. 

“I was fortunate enough to be invited for a drink by someone from the Invisible Dot in 2007”, explains Key when I sit down with him, Sweet and Luke Roberts. Key has since collaborated with them to produce, in addition to his successful live shows, two books and an album, launched this festival. “The man who they sent was hunched and smoked rollies. My main memory of the guy was that he never looked at me and wore a cardigan.” 

Sweet and Roberts offer similarly non-committal responses when prodded. No one, it seems, is able—or willing—to give me a direct response. They’re not so tight-lipped, however, when it comes to discussing the quality of service provided. Lest we forget, these are bankable comedians whose careers are very much on the ascent, with big-hitting TV and film agents to boot. So why do they choose to be produced by, as Roberts puts it, “a small, shady company” like The Invisible Dot? 

Key mentions a “fierce, almost maniacal commitment” to their shows and the importance of having 'someone to tell you "your show's absolutely fine, mate' when you are weeping and crouching after a bad one”. All nod in agreement throughout these exchanges. “You feel like they produce a show in such a personal, handmade way”, adds Sweet. “Not handmade in that it's charming and clumsy but with a vigorous and exquisite eye for detail. And they make you look about 50 per cent cooler than you are, publicity-wise”. 

It’s true that there is something undoubtedly "cool" about The Invisible Dot’s approach. In a highly competitive month where promoters vie for ticket sales, it appears to be free from such pressures and constraints. “Dot goes beyond selling tickets, which it seems to do effortlessly, and believes in producing something special. I reckon it believes comedy can be art” suggests Sweet. “Pretentious pricks.”

Indeed, "Dot", as it’s increasingly known, has been an intriguing presence this year beyond the traditional constraints of the comedy venues, going above and beyond to deliver ambitious, unique goings on at the festival. Take, for example, The Invisible Dot Communications: a daunting undertaking which has overcome huge financial and logistical obstacles to be brought to fruition. Over the past month, passers by have been able to step into any of four customised phone boxes dotted around the city, open 24 hours a day, and select to hear a short story from an impressive list of auteurs which includes Will Self, Mark Watson, Arthur Smith, DBC Pierre, Paul Muldoon – and, of course, Tim Key.  

Then there was three-sided football tournament on the meadows. Comedians and the public were invited to enter teams of six to play a tournament on a triple-goaled pitch, the purpose of which was not to score the most goals, but to concede the least (for the record, Old School FC took home the soon-to-be-coveted Mike Shields Shield). Even their mixed bill show, The Invisible Dot By The Sea, differed from the norm, taking place off the beaten track in a beautiful, secret location.

Unsurprisingly, I’m interested to hear what The Invisible Dot has up its sleeve post-Edinburgh, but plans for the future are, predictably, very much under wraps. 

Sweet shows true Dot colours, responding cagily "I don’t know how much I’m allowed to say”. Key is similarly evasive, but when he says he “plans on keeping on plugging away” he has the air of a man relaxed about the future. The same applies to all The Invisible Dotters I meet. And with this impressive, high achieving little production company, with the ability to achieve the seemingly unachievable, on their side, who could blame them? Comedians reading this would be forgiven for wanting a piece of The Invisible Dot action. But how they go about doing that is anybody’s guess.