A genuine, unrestrained laugh – the kind that leaves you breathless and slightly embarrassed – is a rare and precious thing. Especially when the world feels determined to offer little joy. I sought that feeling out on a cold London evening, heading to Battersea Power Station for an advance screening of the second season ofLast One Laughing UK, launching soon on Amazon Prime Video.
I arrived with two certainties. First, the week had been relentlessly demanding, and I desperately needed a lift. Second, knowing the premise and the cast, I had absolute faith thatLast One Laughingwould deliver. This wasn’t just hope; it was a confident expectation.
For those unfamiliar, the concept is brilliantly simple, yet fiendishly difficult. A group of comedians are locked in a room for six grueling hours, tasked with the impossible: not laughing. Any smile, chuckle, or outright guffaw earns a yellow card from Jimmy Carr, observing from a control room alongside Roisin Conaty. Two yellow cards, and you’re eliminated.
It sounds easy, doesn’t it? But these are professionals, people whose livelihoods depend on *making* others laugh. To suppress that instinct, to maintain a poker face while surrounded by comedic brilliance, is a unique form of torture. And the challenges thrown their way only amplify the pressure.
The show’s success isn’t a surprise. The first season was a revelation, a chaotic and unpredictable delight. The genius lies in the casting. Bringing together established stars like Bob Mortimer, Daisy May Cooper, Lou Sanders, and Richard Ayoade guaranteed quality, but no one could have predicted the sheer, unadulterated silliness that unfolded.
Season two boasts an equally impressive lineup: returning champion Bob Mortimer, alongside Alan Carr, Diane Morgan, Mel Giedroyc, Romesh Ranganathan, Sam Campbell, Gbemisola Ikumelo, Maisie Adam, Amy Gledhill, and David Mitchell. One might assume those who’ve witnessed the format before would have an advantage, formulating strategies to withstand the onslaught of humor. But that assumption would be dangerously wrong.
The beauty ofLast One Laughingis its unpredictability. Just when you think you’ve identified the stoic comedians who will remain unfazed, and the easily-cracked ones destined for early elimination, the game throws a curveball. Sanity slowly unravels as the minutes tick by, and the room becomes a pressure cooker of suppressed mirth.
Sam Campbell, a relative unknown to me, emerged as an early standout. His offbeat, often nonsensical remarks were consistently surprising and genuinely hilarious. I found myself constantly anticipating the unexpected, and he rarely disappointed. He’s a dark horse with the potential to go all the way.
Mel Giedroyc also shone brightly. Accustomed to her warm and witty presence onThe Great British Bake Off, it was a joy to see her unleash a different side of her comedic talent. She’s utterly delightful, and I instantly wanted her as a friend.
There’s a refreshing lack of pretension inLast One Laughing. It embraces silly, joyful humor without apology. It’s pure, unadulterated fun, and in a world that often feels overwhelmingly serious, that’s a gift. It’s not just a good show; it’s one of the best on television right now. And, dare I say it, season two might even surpass the first.
The second season ofLast One Laughingis a masterclass in comedic tension and a celebration of the power of laughter. It’s a show that doesn’t take itself too seriously, and invites the audience to do the same.
