Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Eric Lampaert: Zero Minus One
Eric Lampaert
Genre: Autobiography, Neurodiverse, New Writing, Solo Show, Theatrical Clown
Venue: Just The Tonic @ The Caves
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Eric Lampaert is an actor, comedian and clown who woke up one day to find he had no memory. His road to recovery is presented here and it’s a rough but rewarding trip.
Review
I’d been a fan of Eric Lampaert’s anarchic comedy since seeing him bullying a ten-year-old onstage at a children’s festival in 2010. He had no filter and no boundaries. Kids adored him because he behaved how they’d like to. He didn’t need a script. He’d just wade through the audience and embarrass them. It was very, very silly and actually brought me to tears and choking because I was laughing so much.
I’d come to see Eric’s stand-up shows at various venues at Edinburgh Fringe for years afterwards. Personally, I preferred the ones without structure where he’d just busk it. I remember him locking out audience members and making us all change seats. Routines were the calm moments, a chance to get your breath back before the return of the man-child.
And then he moved to America. And then he disappeared. No social media, no performances. I’d anticipated a burnout or maybe a decision to shed the skin and start anew. It turns out both these possibilities were true.
So, we find ourselves at ZERO MINUS ONE in Just The Tonic at The Caves. I’ve always liked the venue. A musty labyrinth of narrow passageways leading into vaulted spaces that look like rooms in a derelict castle. I had expectations of this show. Given the trajectory I’d observed, I’d expected Eric to return as an arrogant showbiz monster, having absorbed all the worst tropes that a wildy extrovert European with no limits could take. And this wasn’t what we got at all.
I’d seen his shows in the past play to about 50-70 people in average-sized spaces. Sometimes, if working as part of a troupe or at a festival, it could be a couple of hundred. He was never a household name but you might see him pop up on TV or film. Now we were in a crumbling room bathed in purple and white as Lampaert, in a straitjacket and his back to us, undulates to Yazoo’s ONLY YOU. The room seats maybe 40 and there’s about 15 of us in the audience. He laughs it off but there is understandable disappointment in his voice.
ZERO MINUS ONE has been billed as ‘comedy’ but I don’t think this is truly the case. It’s more ‘theatre’ but it could also fit into ‘physical performance’ (after all, Lampaert did train in clowning in Paris, and this is very evident) and even as a straight ‘talk’.
Instantly, the performance feels uneasy. Not because it’s on a weak foundation, but exactly the opposite. Here is a man totally in control of his act. There are no tangents or asides. It’s as tight and sharp as it can be but still has a spontaneity that gives the impression of an orator with a hundred stories in mind, all ready to be picked and presented within the space of a breath.
This was not the performer I knew before, and it made me uncomfortable. The face and the voice were the same but there was a wisdom and reflectiveness a thousand miles away from a gangly creature that stole people’s shoes and took their phones to make rude calls to their contact list.
Eric would probably class the result of what happened to him as an epiphany but, to me, it sounds more like a breakdown. Things had not gone as well as he hoped in the USA and, ultimately, he woke up (in both senses) not knowing who he was, or his past and present. It sounds like a premise for a play but this was reality, and it was unnerving. It seemed like he was engaging eye contact with each person throughout and, instead of a delivery to an audience from a stage, I was left more with the impression that everything he told us was whispered directly into our ears. There’s a disparity here between his openness in discussing very intimate moments (some of them definitely 18+) with strangers and the hugely personal content of his own deconstruction and slow rebuilding. It’s searingly honest. At times I felt like I didn’t want to be there because the information was so vivid and intense. This show is not observation. It’s immersive. You are in Eric Lampaert’s mind as he pieces himself back together and it’s a rollercoaster. There are still gags and humorous anecdotes along the way but it feels more as a considered insertion of relief than making light of what was clearly a very distressing time. However, as he builds to a conclusion it’s clear there is a lot to be taken from his experience and it’s overwhelmingly positive.
I left the show feeling exhausted and a little bewildered. It felt like I had gone for laughs and come out as a counsellor, viewing my patient working things out for himself and finding suitable and often life-affirming answers. Eric has changed as a person and, although more openly vulnerable, he’s become a better one. It plays havoc with the mind to observe someone imparting such wisdom (and he IS incredibly intelligent) whilst still possessing a childlike enthusiasm.
ZERO MINUS ONE is on a different level to most things on offer at this Fringe. It’s valuable, it’s thought-provoking and it will stay with you long after you’ve seen it. Although it’s not always a pleasure, it’s a privilege to see inside a performer’s soul. And I truly believe he’s the happiest he’s ever been, because he finally knows himself.
