We sat down for an exclusive interview with Zhou Ning. Ning’s one-hour comedy show This Time Is Different blends stand-up, live music and storytelling to trace a tender, awkward journey from wanting love to learning how to give it to yourself.
One night only – 13th May at Camden People’s Theatre – Tickets here
Your show blends stand-up, music, and storytelling — how did you arrive at this hybrid form, and what does each element allow you to express that the others can’t?
Before doing comedy, I have many different interests. But comedy becomes the first place where I feel that, everything I enjoy could exist together naturally, like telling jokes, playing piano, giving surprises, singing… Nothing feels forced.
I’ve also been influenced by comedians who work across different forms, which helped me realise this kind of structure is possible.
My work carries both humour and sadness, and I don’t try to present myself as a “perfect” person. Different forms allow different emotions to land in their own way, sometimes a joke works best, sometimes a song, sometimes just need to simply tell a story. In the end, all of these elements together, then the show feels very “me.”
“This Time Is Different” explores love, especially self-love. Was there a specific moment or realization that sparked the idea for this show?
The title of show came from a conversation with a friend. I was describing an emotional pattern I kept repeating, and I casually said, “but this time is different.”
In my early twenties, I struggled quite a lot with my mental health. I was constantly searching for love externally, but rarely offering much of it to myself. This show comes from that realisation.
Through sharing personal experiences, it’s about learning self-love, or at least trying to understand what that means. I don’t think I’ve fully figured it out, but I hope presenting it as a work-in-progress resonates with others in a similar place.
You describe the work as tender, awkward, and honest — how do you balance vulnerability with humour when performing such personal material?
Honestly, this is probably the hardest part of writing for me, how to make something sad also funny. Sometimes it just doesn’t work, and I’ve learned not to force it. I often just tell the story as it is and let the vulnerability exist without too much decoration.
I’m not interested in presenting myself as someone who has everything together, because I clearly don’t, and I think most people don’t either.
The awkwardness is real. I think on stage everyone reveals a certain part of themselves, and for me that’s insecurity. I choose to keep that visible rather than hide it. When people laugh, it usually comes from recognition, not just punchlines.
As a Chinese comedian working in London and touching on themes like queerness and immigration, how do your cultural experiences shape your voice and perspective on stage?
My experiences as a Chinese person living in London, and as a queer person, naturally shape what I talk about, and affect the angle I approach material from.
I think people who share similar experiences, immigrants, queer audiences, often resonate with it more directly, because there’s an unspoken familiarity.
English is also not my first language, and sometimes writing jokes in English can feel almost like taking an exam. Even when I’m talking about things I care deeply about, there’s still a layer of translation happening.
I think part of why I do this is also because I want to see more people like me on stage. And maybe, by being there myself, I can make it feel a little more possible for someone else too.
How has your relationship to the material — and to yourself — evolved while developing this show?
I first performed This Time Is Different as a wip in November last year at Theatre Deli, it was also my first ever performance. Looking back, it feels both terrifying and strangely bold.
I’ve stayed quite open with the material. It has grown and changed through open mics and performances, adding new sections, reworking old ones, and sometimes letting things go when they no longer feel true. I don’t see that as a problem.
Cause at its core, the show is about self-care and the search for love, but more than that, it reflects where I am in my life right now. I do comedy because it’s a way for me to be honest and to have my voice heard.