A simple plan, in two steps — get the character back in front of people, then put him on a stage. Here's how I'd do it, and what we'd handle.
I had a proper look at where Bulla stands online before writing any of this. Two things jumped out.
Those lockdown ones in 2020 are the whole argument. You picked the character up, pointed him at whatever was going on that week, and one of them did twenty-three thousand views. Then it stopped.
That's not a channel that needs starting. It's one that needs turning back on. Eight thousand people are still subscribed and nothing has landed in their feed for a long time.
There's no competition for Bulla. Not one other person on earth can post him. In a world where every comic is fighting for the same three seconds, you've got a character people already know, already like, and already followed once.
Before anything else, and before we talk about a single ticket. Two or three short Bulla pieces a week. A minute, sometimes less. Whatever's in the news, Bulla's take on it — exactly the way the Loaded column worked, and exactly the way the lockdown ones worked.
You don't need to write a show for this. You just need to be Bulla for a minute, a couple of times a week.
Give it a few months of that and we'll know exactly how big this is — and more importantly, so will the venues.
These are ideas, not a fixed plan. Tell me which one feels like you and we'll build that one.
You, interviewed on stage, telling the story properly — the East End, the boxing, the hairdressing, not being able to read until your thirties and then writing for a living. Then Bulla closes the night, half an hour, full pelt.
I like this one because it doesn't ask you to go away and build a brand new hour before you've even started. The story carries the first half on its own, and Bulla gets to be the event rather than the workload. Theatres understand this format and they know how to sell it.
The traditional build. You do your stand-up, interval, then Bulla for the second half. Cleanest version of a comedy night and the audience know exactly what they're getting. It's more work — two hours of material rather than one — but if you're itching to do stand-up again, this is the one.
Rather than a straight interview, someone on stage with you who can spar a bit — and who can also play off Bulla in the last half hour. A prison officer, a straight man, someone for Bulla to work against. Given you played Scudds in Porridge, that's a gift of a set-up and it's yours in a way it wouldn't be anyone else's.
Proper lighting, a real backdrop, the chain — make it a produced piece rather than a bloke doing a voice. That's the bit we'd take care of.
You turn up, do the show, and go home. That's the deal.
I'd rather sell out a smaller room than half-fill a big one. A full house sells the next town; an empty one costs you two years. So I'd build it in two runs.
| Run | Rooms | Dates | Where |
|---|---|---|---|
| First run | 200–300 | 8–10 | Home turf — East London, Essex, Kent — plus North Wales and Chester now you're up there |
| Second run | 350–500 | 12+ | Wider, and we pick the rooms off what actually sold the first time |
Tickets around £25, a bit more in London. A first run at that size, selling well, is a genuinely decent piece of business — and more to the point it gives us the numbers to walk into the bigger theatres with something real rather than a hopeful email.
Rough shapes to show you the scale of it, not an offer — we'd sit down and do the money properly once you've told me whether you fancy any of this.
Get Bulla back out there. See what he does. Then put him on a stage in front of the people who turn up.
Start with the socials. Low risk, you'll see it working within weeks, and it costs you nothing but an hour of being Bulla a couple of times a week. If it does what I think it'll do, the tour books itself.
Have a read, and let's talk.