David Farnor | On 23, Mar 2025

Don’t laugh. Those two words are almost guaranteed to make you chuckle at whatever comes next. Which is why Last One Laughing is such an inspired format. The rules of the competition series are simple: a group of people are locked in a room together and the last person to laugh is the winner. Oh, and all the people are comedians. The show has been a hit in a number of countries in recent years, but now it’s the UK’s turn – and it’s been more than worth the wait.

Any reality TV programme lives or dies by its casting, and Last One Laughing’s line-up is as ridiculous as it is flawless. The comedians trapped together are a perfect balance of mainstream and offbeat, old and young, loud and quiet, rude and cerebral, observational and surreal, verbal and physical – the range of styles and approaches is only matched by their shared competitive nature. But, crucially, there’s also a diverse mix of personalities, some who smile all the time, some who laugh easily and some who are steadfastly stoney-faced in the face of anything.

The names are, specifically, Bob Mortimer, Daisy May Cooper, Joe Lycett, Judi Love, Rob Beckett, Sara Pascoe, Lou Sanders, Joe Wilkinson, Harriet Kemsley and Richard Ayoade. While many of them know each other already, it’s immediately apparent that they know of each other – just as we’re familiar with their contrasting and complementing personas, there’s a warm sense of mutual respect among the group for their varying specialities, whether it’s Judi Love’s frank storytelling or Rob Beckett’s energetic positivity. It also becomes clear which people they’re most afraid of, as the tactics emerge to try and get others to crack – Lou Sander’s aggressive one-on-one teasing is always amusing, while Harriet Kemsley’s unexpected punchlines repeatedly catch us and others off-guard.

Richard Ayoade rapidly emerges as the most intimidatingly deadpan, and he swiftly develops bits to upend the others, while lunging and sprinting around the room. Equally formidable is Bob Mortimer, whose ability to talk about the most mundane things in the silliest manner possible is laugh-out-loud funny even without him trying. “The only person I’ve seen make Richard laugh is Bob,” observes one, as they start to size each other up.

There’s a huge amount of fun to have in the shared knowledge that they will all break at some point – they’re as aware of that inevitability as we are, with one noting that not laughing is like trying to hold in a fart, only getting more difficult the more time passes. It’s fascinating to see their different ways to keep a straight face, whether it’s biting a finger or basically disassociating altogether and staring into the distance. Within the first episode alone, a number of those strategies fail miserably, as penalties are handed out (first a yellow card, then a red) for a chuckle or a chortle.

Handing out the cautions, and watching it all on camera, is Jimmy Carr, who is well suited to the role of acerbic presenter. “Doors!” he shouts at the automatic doors into the room every time he enters. Carr is joined by Roisin Conaty in the control room, providing punditry but also a welcome opportunity for us to laugh along with them every time a giggle comes – a smart antidote to the strange atmosphere of a room in which every joke (mostly) doesn’t land successfully. Every time someone is eliminated, they join Jimmy and Roisin on the sofa next door, visibly relieved at being able to react to every funny moment as they come.

And, thanks to the claustrophobic set and format, they really do keep coming, in a nicely balanced mix of tones and types. The show is stuffed with one-liners and bits, with the contestants’ concentrated attempts to out-funny one another rivalling Airplane! for the number of punchlines per minute. The show nonetheless contrives new ways to bring the laughs, from a fruit machine of conversation topics to “jokers” that invite a comic to perform on a stage while everyone else is forced to watch. Daisy May Cooper’s rollercoaster impression is only outdone by an impeccably deadpan lecture from the hysterical and unpredictable Joe Wilkinson. Bob Mortimer’s magic show, when it comes, will basically make you stop breathing.

The result is a show that is designed to make you – and a roomful of people – laugh constantly for six episodes straight. It almost never misses. The best new comedy TV format since Taskmaster, this could run and run and run. More please.

Add to Watchlist