Q&A with Jess Fuchs

Feral feels like both a rejection of pressure and a celebration of chaos. When did that title first click for you?

My family uses the word ‘feral’ pretty liberally. Chew too loudly, give someone a dirty look, act grumpy…’you’re being really feral!’

So at first, Feral was just a word that lived in my vocabulary. I love the vibe of the word. Chaotic, a bit rough around the edges. It has a sort of dirt-covered-kid-with-messy-hair energy.

But as the material developed, the title took on a deeper meaning. The show is about all the ways we’re domesticated by expectations and encouraged to stick to the status quo. (Not to quote High School Musical…I’m more highbrow than that. I’m not.)

A feral animal is one that was once domesticated, escapes, and returns to its natural instincts. I’m trying to become the feral version of myself.

The show explores meticulously trying to “fix” yourself only to realise you were probably fine all along. Was that a difficult realisation to come to personally?

The realisation itself wasn’t difficult, it was such a relief!

The tougher realisation was acknowledging how many of my thoughts about myself weren’t actually my own.

There’s this weird little checklist we’re sold: get married. Quickly have children because your eggs are shrivelling up! Be skinny or you’ll die alone, an unlovable troll.

And while I absolutely gag for a to-do list, at some point I stopped asking whether I actually wanted those things and just assumed I was failing because I didn’t have them.

The show balances feminism, vulnerability and huge laughs without sounding heavy. How important was it to keep the tone playful and energetic?

For me, playfulness is such an important tool for smuggling in vulnerability.

Feral touches on topics that strangely remain taboo, like being fat. Despite almost everyone having a relationship with beauty standards, audiences can still get uncomfortable.

I think it’s because women are still so heavily valued for their appearance. A fat male comedian can spend ten minutes roasting himself, and people happily laugh along. But when a woman says, “I’m fat,” there’s often this awkward tension or pity.

That’s where playfulness comes in. When talking about my body, I tackle the topic with an almost obnoxious level of confidence, hyperbole and silliness, which disarms the audience.

Your crowd work has become hugely popular online. Does interacting with audiences feel like the most natural part of performing for you?

I’m funniest when bouncing off the energy in the room.

Even at school, I’d basically hold court at lunchtime like a late-night host, asking questions, telling stories, and roasting teachers while sitting around with my friends.

I’m still like that now. My friends get annoyed with how many questions I ask and how much detail I want to know about people’s lives. Being on stage is just an extension of that.

Crowd work also keeps me present when I’m doing so many shows. No two audiences are the same, so I don’t think the show should be either!

Also honestly, thank god for crowd work. It pulls people out of passive “I’m doom-scrolling Tik Tok” mode and reminds them they’re with humans, IRL.

What’s the most unhinged thing someone has confidently told you would “fix your life”?

Having a boyfriend.

There’s something kind of ridiculous about the idea that one person is meant to fix your entire life. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone’s shoulders.

That unhinged advice most commonly comes from people whose own main life goal is also…fixing their relationship. Hey Siri, play Ironic by Alanis Moriessette.

Jess Fuchs: Feral performs at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival from 5th – 30th August (not 18th). For more information visit:https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/jess-fuchs-feral