A Look back at the 2019 Boulder International Fringe Festival
- Gary Miller
- Jul 2, 2019
- 7 min read
Updated: Jun 24

About the Festival
The Boulder International Fringe Festival (BIFF) was an annual performing arts festival that took place in Boulder, Colorado from 2005 to 2019. The festival was modeled after other Fringe Festivals around the world, which are typically unjuried, uncensored, and open to a wide variety of performing arts acts.
At BIFF, artists from around the world could apply to participate and showcase their work in a diverse array of genres, including theater, dance, music, comedy, spoken word, and more. The festival was known for its eclectic and experimental programming, with many shows pushing the boundaries of traditional performance.
In addition to showcasing performances, BIFF also provided opportunities for artists to connect with each other, exchange ideas, and build community. The festival included workshops, panels, and other events designed to support artists and foster collaboration.
BIFF was a beloved institution in Boulder and attracted audiences from around the region and beyond. However, in 2020, due to financial difficulties and the COVID-19 pandemic, the festival was forced to cancel its planned 2020 season.
I performed a week of shows at the 15th Annual Boulder International Fringe Festival in 2019, and I was thrilled to see so many familiar faces there.

This solo hour show in Boulder was five years before my Edinburgh Festival Fringe show Goof and my first real experiment with running a full hour on my own. The show ended up being split evenly — 30 minutes of characters and solo sketches, then 30 minutes of stand-up. The only thing consistent was the characters, though they grew more comfortable and animated as the show went on. The stand-up shifted every night, getting stronger by the end. Here’s what I learned:

Working with the hour format forces you to create.
You think you can’t fill it, but you definitely can. I’d written hour shows for two-person sketch teams before, but this was my first solo hour. I knew I didn’t have 30 razor-sharp minutes of stand-up (let alone a full hour), but I trusted myself to figure it out. I’m most proud of the character bits and want to revisit them for another solo show. The stand-up evolved too — some bits completely changed, some got cut, and others stayed. The stage time was invaluable.
A fringe that isn’t Edinburgh is a great way to experiment — and cheaper.
I didn’t even know there was a “fringe circuit.” I just saw a Chicago comic friend do it the year before and wanted to push myself. Boulder was close, and I needed stage time. Back in Denver, I was struggling to get more than 2-3 minutes on open mics, sometimes getting bumped at midnight. I'd ask the host and a few in particular just said tough luck kid. I don't even know why there was a sign up at that point. If I did get on it was to a room of tired, frustrated, and drunk comics who wanted a young punk kid to exit the stage so they could go home. I was frustrated with Denver comedy. Producing your own work is the best way to grow. The fringe was an opportunity to test myself. I ended up in a tiny room with a fantastic tech person. She was so supportive and would give authentic feedback to me. I became a fringe fan for the stage time, community support, and the chance to fail into something good.
I didn’t come away with a marketable show — no theme, no solid writing.
The characters came from experimenting at Grafenberg’s solo character nights, where I had five-minute spots every other week. I built a repertoire of weird, crazy characters and just threw them together, peeling back the layers. After the characters, I’d present “myself” and tell jokes. It was bare bones and relieved pressure. I wasn’t chasing a sellable show, just stage time to grow. The name of the show just came from "problem child." I figured the energy I was performing with was like the kid I was, energetic and disruptive but also a welcome addition to room. I only got one performance taped by my brother, he's not a camera man and some parts skip. I'm still proud of it though.
Momentum was cut short by the 2020 shutdown.
I wanted to do another few fringes in 2020. I was re-writing the characters and planning to do them in our upcoming Grafenberg shows we had with The Dads. I figured The Dads shows would become a sketch and character showcase for us. We were set for every Thursday starting in March. After lockdown, I had to pivot from live performance to online shows. I feel like today’s era demands both. I love fringes and have grown comfortable improvising entire shows on the spot. It’s just fun and helped me develop my style and process.

Start with a show like this, then develop a theme or story-driven one next.
I knew I wanted something more cohesive but didn’t know how yet. I wanted to do more solo shows and fringe work immediately but had to wait. I lost some time and even flirted with stepping away from the arts during the pandemic. Coming back, I had a totally different perspective. I still love chaotic creation. The free flow of thoughts and kinetic energy can breed some creative ideas that are out of the ordinary and wholly original.
My second show is wildly different from the first, and I hope each one keeps evolving. Also — go to other people’s shows as much as you can. I didn’t do that enough early on, but I made sure in Edinburgh to get on stage and see as many shows as possible.
On Promotion and the Performer High
I didn’t flyer. I didn’t even know what flyering really was. I relied on my local audience, and to my surprise, it actually worked out. I texted friends, posted on social media, and promoted through the Fringe website. Barking or handing out flyers didn’t even cross my mind — that would become a necessary survival skill in Edinburgh. Looking back, I also don’t think I fully soaked in the experience. As a local artist, I still had work every day, so I’d do my show, hang around for a bit, but unless it was the final night, I wouldn’t stay out for beers. I felt this intense pressure and anxiety beforehand, and afterward all I wanted was to get in my car, put on George Carlin’s A Place for My Stuff, and tune out on the drive home. That post-show emotional dip — the come-down from the performer high — was real. You build up all this energy and focus into a moment, and then… it’s over. That’s something I had to learn to manage over time.
I can't thank my friends and family enough for coming to this show.
How I Would Do It Differently
If I could do it over again, I would’ve split it into two separate shows — one full character show and one that’s just stand-up. Trying to do both in one hour was fun, but I’ve since learned it’s better to focus and give each format room to breathe. That said, I still love mixed formats when they’re intentional. I’d definitely bring those characters back in a future show, but with more concrete ideas, stronger structures, and a cohesive theme to tie it all together. It’s all about building on what worked and shaping the chaos into something more refined.

I also got to be featured on Late Night With The Fringe Show at the Boulder International Fringe Festival — you can catch me around the 32:08 mark. I’m not media trained, and that’s probably obvious, but it was so much fun. They did this every night during the fest and it was a great way to highlight performers and keep the community vibe going strong. Just being part of that kind of energy was something special.
Unsung Hero Award Winner - Gary John Miller: Problem
The "Unsung Hero" award at the Boulder International Fringe Festival is an honor given to an individual or group who has made significant contributions to the festival behind the scenes. This award recognizes those who have worked tirelessly to ensure the success of the festival, often without receiving much public recognition for their efforts. Recipients of the "Unsung Hero" award are nominated by the festival staff and selected based on their dedication, hard work, and positive impact on the festival. This award serves as a way to acknowledge and thank those who have played a crucial role in making the Boulder International Fringe Festival a success.

I added some photos from the write-up where I was compared to T.J. Miller. For context: I’ve been compared to T.J. Miller for my entire career — in tone, delivery, hair, whatever. We’ve only met a few times in person, and neither of us has brought it up. I doubt he even remembers us meeting, anyway. Maybe one day we’ll get cast as cousins in something and finally talk about it.
I also received a couple of actual reviews from the Boulder run, which was surreal in itself. One compared me to Dave Chappelle — and while I appreciate the compliment, I immediately assumed that was the only other comedian the person had ever seen. Still, I’ll take it. Another audience member said my show was, and I quote, “Well done like an overcooked steak. Sex, Sex, SEX! If you're INTO that kind of humor (he was kind of funny).” Honestly? That’s my favorite review ever. You could put that on my tombstone.
It was the first time I really saw strangers try to articulate what I was doing on stage — and whether they nailed it or not, the fact that they took the time to write anything at all meant a lot.





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