Liv Rocklin is a New York-based comedian who performs stand-up, musical comedy, sketch comedy and theatre. Her solo show, An American (Not) in Paris has been performed at several US Fringe Festivals,
being named “Best of Fringe” in Orlando in 2025. We spoke to Liv ahead of her Fringe run in August. She told us about the show, her musical comedy inspirations, and her hopes for the month.

Can you tell us about ‘An American (Not) in Paris’?

It’s an OCD, ADHD, gluten-free, one-woman, musical comedy! No, but really, it’s a mix of stand up, musical comedy, storytelling, and 1.5 sincerely sad songs. But not too sad. Like Fearless-era sad, not Tortured Poets Department sad. That said, lots of Taylor Swift, Lizzie McGuire, Britney Spears, and other Zillennial references. It starts with a study abroad gone wrong – spoiler alert, I get kicked out of France; which spirals into a surrender of control through the eyes of someone who has actually done a really good job of keeping it for a long time. At its heart, it’s about loneliness and growing up. I’ve been told it’s a lot of fun, and right when it feels like it’s about to get too sad, it bounces you back up. So come get bounced.

For those unfamiliar with your work, how would you describe your comedy style and approach to performance?

It definitely rides the line fairly evenly between stand-up, with dry and witty one-liners and asides, and more formal storytelling theatre. I was in the pure stand-up world for about six years before venturing into solo theatre, so I think I carry a sort of casualness and earnestness on stage, even though the material itself is tightly scripted and delivered. When I explore different topics, I tend to stay pretty positive and not super sarcastic or sardonic, really leaning into sincere curiosity instead. It’s really fast-moving, which is done on purpose because my hope is you’ll be surprised at the emotional turns some of the material takes, but I never want the audience to feel like I’m going to let them stay low too long. I love a callback 45 minutes after a set-up that makes you feel like the whole thing has been a puzzle that’s finally coming together. The musical comedy plays on some irony – I am self aware and know I read as a sweet midwestern girl on stage with an acoustic guitar, and I’m not trying to outrun that. But it gives me an opportunity to cut a little deeper when you’re not expecting it. There’s a sort of dissonance there, and I love seeing audiences react to it.

The show’s been successful at various Fringes in the US over the last year. Has the show changed or evolved over time? If so, in what way?

Yes, for sure! First, I’ll just say, the last couple years of Fringe shows have been an unbelievable ride. Orlando Fringe was my first ever Fringe, and the biggest in the USA, so being listed as Best of Fringe was wild. I hadn’t even seen the article, and someone walked into my show and said, “Congrats!” and I said, “Thanks!” and then walked backstage before running back out and going, “Wait, sorry, for what?”

The show premiered in New York City in May 2024, and it was a 75-minute run. So the big challenge for Orlando was slashing it down to 60. My director, Hallie Sebastian, helped me get really brutal and willing to cut things I thought mattered so much, but ultimately didn’t serve the story, and weren’t funny enough to justify staying anyway. She also helped me be careful not to cut sincerity from the show, which can be my first instinct, but the laughs only matter because there’s heart there too. So that brought about success at Orlando and a sold-out run at Harrisburg Fringe, which was a super fun experience, too.

Then, my producer, Alice Zelenko, really helped me deepen the show to another level. She saw it, and her main note was that it needed more of me and my background. I had always felt that – like why should the audience care about me just cause I’m on stage? So she helped me find a lot more of the why. I was nervous it’d bring the show too serious-toned, but it’s actually that script that won Funniest of the Fringe in Pittsburgh this year. I think there’s just better pay off. Alice is also an amazing choreographer, and she choreographed a Britney Spears-inspired dance with baguettes that, as silly as it is, gives the show even more grounding as theatre. I want the audience to feel like they’re seeing a production, and pushing the show deeper, funnier, more dynamic, I think it’s done that.

You’ve credited Rachel Bloom and Bo Burnham as influences on your musical comedy. What is it about those particular performers that you admire?

Totally. You know, on early posters, before I had reviews to quote, I wrote, “A Gen-Z Rachel Bloom,” in quotes on every poster. I was, surely, quoting myself.

What I really admire about Rachel Bloom is how she balances theatricality with intimacy. Like, Death, Let Me Do My Special, is a full theatrical spectacle, way more produced than a typical comedy special. Still, nothing feels removed. There’s no 4th wall; it’s more like she bends reality to make her own container, one that we can join her in. She also does a really inspirational job of taking things exactly as seriously as they are. She deals with legitimately serious and heavy themes in her show, COVID deaths, her newborn being in the NICU, and she gives it the space it needs and challenges the audience to feel it with her. Still, nothing is ever taken more seriously than it needs to be. She leaves room for goofiness – saying she breastfed her baby for the first time and wished she could do that with her dog – to show that even in the darkest moments, we’re just human, and humans are gorgeously silly.

And then Bo Burnham, I mean, I think he’s a genius. I have no credentials to say that, but I do mean that in a very literal sense. He just knows exactly how to guide an audience’s emotions in a way that even surprises them. One second you’re laughing at a brilliant rhyme scheme, then suddenly you’re questioning the inherent good versus evil of humanity. I admire how intentional and poignant every single word and action he takes is.

I think that’s the theme across both of them, both Rachel Bloom and Bo Burnham are unafraid to admit that they care deeply. I think sometimes today’s world can value nonchalance. I’m not nonchalant. I’m super chalant. And I can’t hide that in my art either, like they don’t.

What are your hopes for the show? What would constitute a successful Fringe for you?

My brother and his wife went to Japan in the Fall, like all the millennials did somehow, and they brought me back a Daruma doll. It starts with blank white eyes, and then you set a goal and colour in one of the eyes, and when you fulfill the goal, you colour in the other eye. They encouraged me to use it for Fringe.

So what do I need to color in that other eye? I mean, the dream for the show is a future for the show. A UK tour, an off-Broadway run in New York City, in a dream world, a run in Paris. I want to do this show so I get to keep performing, because I think it’s how I can connect with people. I’d be thrilled to find management or other connections based on the show, including collaborators in other productions. But I don’t think I need all the shiny stuff to colour in the other eye on the Daruma doll. For me, a successful Fringe run looks like being of service through the show, which I’ve been really privileged to see happen. I’ve had people laugh and say they hadn’t laughed for a while, I’ve had people crying and saying they felt seen and understood, and so much in between. I’m just excited to turn the show over to a global audience and let it affect people however they need. I mean, a lesson of the show is to not be so attached to the outcome, so I’m trying to live in that. I’d love to be surprised at what Fringe looks like! Cause I only know so much, so my dreams for the show might not even be big enough. So maybe a successful Fringe run is just staying open to being surprised, and connecting with people I otherwise wouldn’t be able to connect with, on stage and off.

Beside your show, what are you looking forward to about the Fringe, or perhaps dreading?

I love the magic of going to a Fringe show and having no idea what’s going to happen. When I went as a tourist in 2023, I saw art unlike anything I’d seen before, and there’s an endless supply of it. So I’m excited to see things I’ve never seen before.

Dreading? Maybe just lugging a guitar through the crowds every day. I’m like a six-year-old; I hate carrying things.

Beside ‘An American (Not) in Paris’, can we expect to see you performing elsewhere during August?

Nowhere formally yet, but definitely keep your eye on the nightly variety shows! I’d love to join those lineups. And flyering is low-key a performance of its own. So, yeah, you can catch me on the square performing the part of an Edinburgh Fringe artist who really wants you to see my show.

Are there any other shows at the Fringe that you would recommend we should go and see?

I’m excited to see Mark Vigeant’s show, ‘OUT THERE!‘ I saw his last couple of shows at Orlando and Harrisburg Fringe, and I think he does really cool and creative things with form and technology. I’m super minimalist with that stuff, so it’s cool to see it explored in a way I’ve never thought of. Another example of bending that 4th wall to create a whole new reality.

‘An American (Not) in Paris’ is at Just the Tonic at The Mash House – Bottle Room from Thu 06 Aug to Sun 30 Aug 2026 at 18:10.