Edinburgh Fringe 2025
Michael Elsener: How to Live in Paradise
Michael Elsener
Genre: Comedy, Political, Stand-Up, Storytelling
Venue: Gilded Balloon
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Already a star in Switzerland, Michael Elsener challenges himself to perform entirely in English at this year’s Fringe- blending stand-up, storytelling, and flashes of magnetic character work. He unpacks the myth of Switzerland as “paradise” through politics and childhood stories, weaving in audience interaction with sincerity. His charisma, warmth, and skill at both unpacking politics and inhabiting characters make this a fascinating and generous performance.
Review
Michael Elsener may be a household name in Switzerland- he is called “the John Oliver of Switzerland”- but on the night I saw him here at the Fringe, he performed to an audience of five. That contrast feels like the essence of Edinburgh: international stars testing themselves against new ground. Elsener has set himself an ambitious challenge this year: to perform entirely in English, rather than in his native Swiss German. It’s a bold move, and what emerges is a show that is smart, generous, and full of exciting moments.
The premise, How to Live in Paradise, plays off the global perception of Switzerland as an idyllic haven. Early on, Elsener asks the audience what comes to mind when they think of Switzerland- mountainous scenery, efficiency, global banking- and he riffs off each with sharp political commentary and intelligent humor. But the deeper question he keeps circling is: if Switzerland is a paradise, why didn’t it always feel that way for me? That tension anchors the evening, and leads into deeply personal stories of growing up gay in a small Catholic town, hiding behind “neutrality” by first coming out as bi, and only later finding the courage to live fully as himself.
Where Elsener truly dazzles is in his character work. He has the ability to inhabit another person so fully that it’s impossible to look away. At the start of the show, he fluidly slips between several languages including Swiss German, French, Spanish, and eventually English, playing with the mic as though even technology is struggling to keep up with him. It’s a brilliant opening, showing off his range and establishing the theme of identity across languages. Later, his imitations are so vivid that the room shifts around him. It’s clear that this is where a strength of his artistry lies no matter the language, and I found myself wanting even more of it.
His stand-up sections are loose by Anglo-American standards, but that’s part of his style. Like John Oliver, you don’t always laugh every thirty seconds; instead, you trust that there’s a serious point being made, and that the humor will arrive as a release. Sometimes the commentary lands more in the head than the body, especially for international audiences less familiar with Swiss politics. Elsener builds the intellectual scaffolding- we understand what he means- but the next step will be making us feel the heat of his frustration so the comedy ignites universally.
He shows glimpses of that fire when railing against Switzerland’s direct democracy system. As he grows more impassioned, you can see him veering toward a kind of comic madness- that’s where his character work could fuse seamlessly with his stand-up, turning his own persona into a heightened character. The same applies to a section about attending a meditation retreat. At present, the laughs come from surface observations- a man belching, gender segregation, the awkwardness of being gay in that environment. They’re funny, but the deeper comedy lies in why he was there at all. His boyfriend, a psychologist, suggested he go; if we feel what’s at stake for him in that silence, then every belch becomes exponentially funnier because it derails something vital. That’s where his personal story, character work, and political edge can meet.
What sets Elsener apart from many comedians, though, is his genuine curiosity about the audience. In a bit of crowd work, he didn’t just mine answers for punchlines, he seemed authentically interested in what people said, and then skillfully wove it back into his set. It’s rare to see audience interaction handled with such generosity. Combined with his warmth, precision, and ability to slip between characters and languages, it makes him a singular performer.
How to Live in Paradise is already Exciting Work: intelligent, layered, and delivered with charm. With a little more heat translating his personal and political stakes into something audiences outside Switzerland can feel as keenly as he does, it has the potential to become unforgettable.
