The standup comic on the things that make him laugh the most
Harry Hill’s 2005 tour preview at a 100-seater venue in Windsor. I had no idea what a preview was but loved it. Once I gig with Harry I will have completed comedy.
Continue ReadingAs host of the White House correspondents’ dinner, comic Michelle Wolf insulted Trump, his inner circle and the press. What happened next?
In the past 35 days, Michelle Wolf has hosted the annual White House correspondents’ dinner, scandalised Washington DC, outraged the president, run a 50-mile ultramarathon, launched her own Netflix show, and turned herself into a household name. Yet “the hardest thing I ever did in my life”, according to the comedian, was none of these, but “getting myself fired on purpose.”
Five years ago, she was working for a tech company, but knew she wanted to be a comedian. The plan was to get paid for as long as possible, while she worked on her act, until they sacked her. “I don’t like being lazy, but I was like: ‘Just do less and less work.’ I was writing jokes all day, just constantly writing jokes.” She nearly lost her nerve when she received a formal warning. “It was the worst feeling. I hate disappointing people. I almost gave up then and there.” But she stuck at the plan, and “eventually I got fired, which was great”. She celebrated with cocktails.
In standup, you tell a joke and people laugh or they don’t. On Twitter, they correct and complain
The White House Correspondents’ Dinner was a failure last year, but this year was an embarrassment to everyone associated with it. The filthy “comedian” totally bombed (couldn’t even deliver her lines-much like the Seth Meyers weak performance). Put Dinner to rest, or start over!
There’s this whole section of political comedy that’s just saying things we want to hear, rather than pushing our brains
We keep tuning in to everything outrageous that’s happening. We’re not watching the news but a show
People say they want honesty, but when they hear it they’re like, Oh, that was a cold slap of honesty
Continue ReadingOn a first trip to the fringe, she was desperate for comedy to seep into her and discovered a summer camp that became a second home
Despite having lived in London for most of my life – and being a huge fan of dancing and drinking in the street – I’ve never been to Notting Hill carnival. Instead, for the past seven years, I’ve spent August in Edinburgh, either performing or working at the fringe. Admittedly, last year was my first “fallow” year – a time for the farm (my body) to recover – but I still visited for 10 days at the end, unable to accept the fear of missing out of unjust reviews and posters of comedians scratching their heads.
The first year I visited, I lived in a flat with 20 other students. At some point during the month, a couple of people moved out, so I got a cupboard all to myself. It was heavenly. I had always wanted to do comedy, but didn’t know where to start – all I knew was that Edinburgh was where it happened. So I applied for a job giving out flyers for an improv group, and after an hour of not giving out any, I politely resigned.
Continue ReadingThe old guard is being left behind in a world that no longer finds bigotry funny. It’s about time
Comedy has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember. My parents, working long and brutal hours in menial jobs in the struggle to raise four children, had every right to be sad, worried and angry people. Instead, to get through the hard times, they turned to humour. The funniest jokes in our house were rewarded; banter and good-natured teasing were encouraged. Although not formally educated, my parents’ natural intelligence shone through in their quick wit.
Moving through my teenage years, comedy became even more vital. There is almost nothing worse you can be in high school than a fat girl, and everyone moves quickly to make sure you know it. I still very much endured my share of bullying and teasing, but I was able to make friends fast, build defences and deflect a lot of abuse by using humour. Comedy helped me survive.
Related: Why don’t we have a sense a humour? Maybe it’s about the jokes | Alex McKinnon
This is not about being overly sensitive, it is simply about growing and adapting to what the audience will accept.
Haha I am sorry pic.twitter.com/Jspknl4CGl
Related: Dave Chappelle, Ricky Gervais and comedy’s ‘ironic bigotry’ problem
Continue ReadingThe Canadian standup on what makes him laugh the mostThe late Foster Brooks played the greatest drunk ever and the pilot sketch with Dean Martin is a work of art. It should be studied in universities. Continue reading…
Continue ReadingO2 Arena, London
The royal couple get a cheerful ribbing from the Daily Show host in a set that’s a delight – even to huffy republicans
What a gift to Trevor Noah that his one-off UK date coincided with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding. The Daily Show host dedicates a full 10 minutes to the event at the start of his set, and it’s high quality material given its presumably hasty composition. But then the nuptials of a mixed-race American and a member of the British royal family is meat and drink to Noah, a comic who majors in race and social mores across borders and who, as a South African, is no slouch on the imperial self-regard of Britain’s ruling class.
His wedding material certainly delights the locals – even those of us who’ve spent the day in a republican huff. He delivers a great line about the event’s supposed diversity (“Let me tell you something: a black cellist cancels itself out”), before imagining how it would have unfolded had it really been “a black wedding”. Yes, these jokes trade in broad stereotypes, and midway through Noah’s show I began to weary of his “white people do this, black people do that” shtick. But, for now, his cheerful ribbing of the claims being made for this establishment beanfeast were a pleasure to submit to.
Continue ReadingBrighton Dome
Award-winning standup serves up ruthless self-mockery in a show that is playful and pugnacious in equal measure
Lying, says Bridget Christie, has been tainted by association with Trump, Putin and the Brexit campaign. So she’s giving it up: now it’s the truth and nothing but from Christie. Hence: “I’ve been pretending to be a feminist for six years!” Her Edinburgh Comedy award-winning show, her book, radio series and Netflix special: all just a sham, she tells us now, like a dam bursting. “It’s an act! I don’t give a shit! I just wanted to be famous!”
What Now? is Christie’s first new show since Because You Demanded It, her fantastic, hastily assembled response to the Brexit vote in 2016. That set in turn followed several shows which combined clownish comedy and campaigning feminist zeal to thrilling effect. All of which makes What Now? unusual for Christie in having no specific agenda beyond making us laugh. Happy to report that it succeeds lavishly in that aim, as Christie goons around, sending up herself, her parenting, David Davis and the impoverished state of UK politics.
Continue ReadingSoho theatre, London
In her new show Mistress and Misfit the standup delivers droll tales, gasp-inducing skits and a Georgian history lesson
Mistress and Misfit, Shappi Khorsandi’s latest set, has been built around Admiral Nelson’s squeeze, Emma Hamilton. Or at least, that’s what it says on the tin. Certainly, there’s a portrait of Lady Hamilton on stage throughout the show, but for most of the 75 minutes it’s Khorsandi who hogs the limelight. We’re left with another diverting hour of Shappi chat – about mothering, reality TV, her poet dad – grafted more or less crudely on to a whistle-stop biography of the blacksmith’s daughter turned love of a national hero.
It’s never entirely clear why Khorsandi is telling that story in particular, beyond her obvious identification with Emma’s up-by-the-bootstraps life story. The comic makes a compelling case for Lady H as a strikingly modern figure, trapped in and stifled by life as a pawn and plaything of wealthy men. But Khorsandi’s parallels between her life and that of her Georgian-era subject are a bit forced, and Hamilton’s presence in the show – sitting alongside unrelated material about attending children’s parties and turning down literary prizes – can feel arbitrary.
Continue ReadingSoho theatre, London
In her new show Mistress and Misfit the standup delivers droll tales, gasp-inducing skits and a Georgian history lesson
Mistress and Misfit, Shappi Khorsandi’s latest set, has been built around Admiral Nelson’s squeeze, Emma Hamilton. Or at least, that’s what it says on the tin. Certainly, there’s a portrait of Lady Hamilton on stage throughout the show, but for most of the 75 minutes it’s Khorsandi who hogs the limelight. We’re left with another diverting hour of Shappi chat – about mothering, reality TV, her poet dad – grafted more or less crudely on to a whistle-stop biography of the blacksmith’s daughter turned love of a national hero.
It’s never entirely clear why Khorsandi is telling that story in particular, beyond her obvious identification with Emma’s up-by-the-bootstraps life story. The comic makes a compelling case for Lady H as a strikingly modern figure, trapped in and stifled by life as a pawn and plaything of wealthy men. But Khorsandi’s parallels between her life and that of her Georgian-era subject are a bit forced, and Hamilton’s presence in the show – sitting alongside unrelated material about attending children’s parties and turning down literary prizes – can feel arbitrary.
Continue ReadingThe South African standup and late-night satirical news anchor on what makes him laugh the mostIt has to be Ross Noble. I saw him at the Cape Town comedy festival in 2002. I was in high school. His improvising was so good it made me never want to try. …
Continue Reading