In My Favourite Loser, Abby Denton resurrects the dust-choked absurdity of the 1904 Olympic marathon and transforms it into a sharply observed, emotionally resonant hour of stand-up storytelling. Her subject—Felix Carvajal, a Cuban postman who ran the race in street clothes and nearly died of poisoned apples—is not just a historical footnote, but Denton’s unlikely hero. And by the end of the show, he might be yours too.
Denton’s comedic voice is dry, self-effacing, and quietly radical. She doesn’t just recount Carvajal’s misadventures; she interrogates the politics of failure, masculinity, and myth-making with a deftness that never feels didactic. Her delivery is conversational, almost conspiratorial, as if she’s letting the audience in on a secret history that’s been hiding in plain sight.
The show’s structure is loose but deliberate, looping through anecdotes, tangents, and personal reflections that mirror the chaotic spirit of the marathon itself. There’s a gentle melancholy beneath the humour—a recognition of how systems fail the most earnest among us, and how dignity can be found in the margins. Denton’s admiration for Carvajal is sincere, but never sentimental. She wants us to laugh, yes—but also to reconsider who we build statues for.
In a festival often dominated by bombast and bravado, My Favourite Loser is a quiet triumph: a love letter to the underdog, the overlooked, and the beautifully absurd. Denton doesn’t just tell us why Carvajal matters—she makes us feel it.
Reviewed by Maria Camara
