Can Lisbon have a “humor web summit”?

Laughter broke the typical Lisbon tranquility at the end of August. On stage, national and international comedians did what they do best: transform jokes into a spectacle. Luís Franco-Bastos and André de Freitas were among the comedians who performed this Thursday at Cinema São Jorge in Lisbon, on the opening day of Worten Mock Fest, a new festival that offers more than five hours of comedy daily over three days, with stand-up shows , live podcasts, conversations, and even a comedy film series.

This first edition will feature national and international comedy names such as Brazilian Rafi Bastos, Scottish Daniel Sloss, Australian Jim Jefferies, and Portuguese artists Ricardo Araújo Pereira, José Diogo Quintela, and Miguel Góis (formerly of Gato Fedorento). The festival is organized by Kilt, an agency founded by Ricardo Soares, who over the past seven years has overseen the evolution of the comedy sector in Portugal, managing the careers of several artists (Diogo Batáguas, Guilherme Geirinhas, Luana do Bem) and producing some of the most popular projects in the genre, from the podcast Falsos Lentos to the program Bom Partido .

"We were missing a summer festival to pay the bills," jokes comedian Diogo Batáguas, alongside KILT founder and Worten Mock Fest organizer Ricardo Soares at the press presentation. For the latter, the festival's launch is "synonymous with the evolution of the comedy sector in Portugal." "We're very close to selling out," he tells Observador. Sales, he assures, exceed expectations.

An hour before the doors open, the mayor of Lisbon, Carlos Moedas, joins the organizers for the presentation of what he describes as a potential "humor web summit ." Alongside Batáguas—who often targets the mayor on the show Conteúdo do Batáguas— Mondias recalls how "humor and comedy are so important to the world today." "Humor is the catalyst for people to not be afraid, not to be afraid of themselves. Laughing at ourselves is incredibly important for democracy," he argues, noting how he could have brought a helium tank onto the stage.

Moedas isn't just playing fair on a day of celebration. In addition to logistical support, the Lisbon City Council is funding the comedy festival with 30,000 euros, a figure still far from the 300,000 to 400,000 euros the event is expected to cost, the organizers told Observador. Ricardo Soares makes no secret of the fact that the first edition "will lose money." "It was a gamble of ours, it's been KILT's path, I'm comfortable saying this, it won't be profitable, but it's an investment."

"You were the great sponsors ," Carlos Moedas says to the people at Worten, the event's namesake brand. In a celebratory mood, the mayor is the first to say that he "would really like the festival to continue." Mock Fest could become "the biggest comedy festival in Europe," he notes. "It's not just the web summit , it's not just Tribeca; I want Portuguese brands too."

The mayor of Lisbon City Council says he's not good at dry jokes, more for making "a few wisecracks," and in the pre-campaign climate, he doesn't miss the opportunity to join Filipa Veiga, candidate for the Santo António parish council from the Por Ti Lisboa coalition (PSD, CDS-PP, and independents), in the delegation. "This lady will be our parish council president; next year, she's the one we'll be talking to," he says.

As the festival kicked off its first day, the organizers were already looking to the future. "Initially, there wasn't really an intention, but given the success..." Ricardo Soares began, responding to a question from Observador. "We'll have to keep going. We're already working on it. The intention is for the project to be annual and for us to be here for many years to come."

The first metrics, even before the event itself kicks off, are the number of sold-out sessions, something that comes as a surprise given the time of year (and is unlikely to be repeated in future editions). "We did this on the last weekend of August, when there are almost no locals in Lisbon," Ricardo notes. But when night falls, the image of a Lisbon devoid of people quickly dissipates, with hundreds of people spilling onto Avenida da Liberdade in the area surrounding Cinema São Jorge, a municipal facility celebrating its 75th anniversary this year. While the outdoor stage—with free programming—could have appealed to passersby, most of the people passing by were the same people traveling between sessions inside the building.