The comedian and sketch-show doyenne on the things that make her laugh the most
Simon Munnery’s The League Against Tedium in Edinburgh in the late 1990s. I had never seen anything like it; I became almost hysterical with laughter which he probably found off-putting. He appeared to give no shits whether the audience liked it or not, and I loved that.
Continue ReadingFed up with heckles, hostility and predatory promoters, Kiri Pritchard-McLean set out to detail the industry’s misogyny in a raucous, revelatory performance
Are women funny? At a time when so many of comedy’s biggest names are female – from Bridget Christie to Katherine Ryan, Sarah Millican to Josie Long – you might imagine that that tired debate would finally have run out of steam. But that would be wishful thinking, according to standup Kiri Pritchard-McLean. The lurid misogyny that she repeatedly encounters has led her to speak out in her touring show Hysterical Woman, which tackles the question – and the zombie sexism it implies – head on.
Pritchard-McLean reports back from the frontline of circuit comedy, where predatory promoters roam and all-female bills are called “paralympic nights”. She details the heckles, hostility and patronising post-show comments to which female comics are daily subjected; the rarity of more than one female act appearing on any comedy bill; and the way scheduling works to position them in less prominent positions on those bills. It reveals as endemic the types of behaviour experienced by comedian Jenny Collier in 2014, when she publicised an email from a promoter who cancelled her gig because “the venue decided that they don’t want too many women on the bill”. Or the Canadian comic Christina Walkinshaw, “fired” from one club, she claims, for complaining about sexist heckling (“Show us your tits!”) at the venue.
Continue ReadingSoho theatre, London
Flashes of tenacious positivity illuminate a gleeful set that ranges over Willan’s troubled early years in care, from teenage delinquency to a run-in with Santa
Rebellious, defiant, rude – words that Sophie Willan has been branded with since infancy. And she’s got the proof, in the form of social workers’ reports handed to her in bulk by Bolton social services when she turned 23. Excerpts punctuate On Record, her standup debut, which you might dub a misery memoir, if Willan didn’t tell this tale of her childhood in care – the daughter of a heroin-addicted mum – with such dogged good cheer.
That upbeat tone can feel contrived: her story seems to demand shades other than bright. But there’s no doubt it’s hard-won, nor that Willan makes of this hard-bitten history a lively hour of autobiographical comedy. Armed with an accent that makes Peter Kay sound like Rex Harrison, a bustling manner and a dash of camp, she relates tales of childhood neglect (“Think Mowgli with a mullet”), teenage delinquency and adult drift (getting sacked from Santa’s grotto was a low point) with gossipy glee. She’s at her funniest off-script, chatting to the audience. There’s not a shred of self-pity.
Continue ReadingThe comedian and I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! runner-up on the things that make him laugh the most
I remember seeing Frank Skinner do a set at Banana Cabaret in Balham about a year after I started comedy. It was the kind of laughter that stuck with me and made me want to do this job for the rest of my life.
Continue ReadingThe American comedian explains how his relationship with his mother affected his life and how you have to leave your home to make sense of it
I’m the fourth funniest person in my family, but No 1 for confidence. For years, Daddy was the funniest, but at 97 his memory is a bit off. I’m the youngest of nine children, although my eldest sister died in 1949 and I had another who died six years ago. My brothers and sisters are so much older than me that they were more like parents than siblings, especially my sisters. They shaped me. They all pitched in to fund my education and decided what experiences I would have, how I would spend my summers.
I grew up in a sleepy place called Albany in Georgia. As a teenager, I played basketball and baseball. I liked Saturday Night Live, chess and girls. My desire to act came from years of watching television. I was a 1970s child and grew up watching Star Trek, The Six Million Dollar Man and Man from Atlantis. By the time I was 18, I was a good mimic.
Related: Reginald D Hunter webchat – as it happened
Continue ReadingBritain’s best standups hit the Welsh town, the Venezuelan producer plays London and Julian Barratt stars as a washed-up former TV cop
From Cradle to Stage
Mum’s the word! Literally, actually, as Foo Fighter Dave Grohl’s mother, Virginia, has gone around the world to interview mothers about their famous offspring, from Pharrell Williams’s ma Carolyn to Amy Winehouse’s mummy Janis for a new book. It’s out on 25 April.
From Cradle to Stage by Virginia Hanlon Grohl is published by Coronet, £20
South Hill Park, Bracknell
Skype sex and confetti cannons are harnessed to full effect by a likable performer who breathes new life into a time-honoured persona
‘Who here saw me on I’m a Celebrity? Who’s seen my penis?” Joel Dommett’s fame is of a very modern variety, the 31-year-old having been propelled into the slightly-bigger-league of comedians by reality TV and an online sex tape. The latter is mined for laughs in this extended touring version of Dommett’s 2016 Edinburgh set – infectiously stoopid entertainment with big payoffs, loosely exploring lies, truth and our host’s accident-prone love life. When it cracks on (in the second half, mostly) it proves Dommett to be no mere gatecrasher in comedy’s upper firmament, but perfectly at home.
The show’s weaker moments come before the interval, and stem, I suspect, from the task of padding out 55 Edinburgh minutes into a tour-friendly two hours. There’s some fine material in act one, but it is attenuated by lots of filler, as Dommett compulsively comments on his own jokes, mannerisms and the audience’s every titter. With a persona built on exaggerating his immaturity and gormlessness, it’s a risky business to perform a first half so thinly stuffed with good jokes – the risk being that we start to think the pretty-boy air-headedness isn’t just an act.
Continue ReadingSouth Hill Park, Bracknell
Skype sex and confetti cannons are harnessed to full effect by a likable performer who breathes new life into a time-honoured persona
‘Who here saw me on I’m a Celebrity? Who’s seen my penis?” Joel Dommett’s fame is of a very modern variety, the 31-year-old having been propelled into the slightly-bigger-league of comedians by reality TV and an online sex tape. The latter is mined for laughs in this extended touring version of Dommett’s 2016 Edinburgh set – infectiously stoopid entertainment with big payoffs, loosely exploring lies, truth and our host’s accident-prone love life. When it cracks on (in the second half, mostly) it proves Dommett to be no mere gatecrasher in comedy’s upper firmament, but perfectly at home.
The show’s weaker moments come before the interval, and stem, I suspect, from the task of padding out 55 Edinburgh minutes into a tour-friendly two hours. There’s some fine material in act one, but it is attenuated by lots of filler, as Dommett compulsively comments on his own jokes, mannerisms and the audience’s every titter. With a persona built on exaggerating his immaturity and gormlessness, it’s a risky business to perform a first half so thinly stuffed with good jokes – the risk being that we start to think the pretty-boy air-headedness isn’t just an act.
Continue ReadingI will never not laugh at his bit on chicken and racism
Back when easy streaming was a twinkle in some young executive’s eye, some TV was just… unavailable. If you were desperate to watch that US TV show, you could try the dodgy VHS guy down the market (ahem). So for a long time, I just heard about US comedian Dave Chappelle’s legendary show. When I finally got to watch, on a grainy DVD copy, I laughed so hard I cried.
Dave Chappelle, 43, moved to New York as a teen and was soon on stage at the world famous Apollo theatre. By 19, he was cast as Ahchoo in the spoof Robin Hood: Men In Tights. The 90s were good to him (more film and TV work, and his first standup special) but it was the 2000s that cemented his legacy: he co-created Chappelle’s Show in 2003, influencing a new generation of TV comedians in the process. The sketches and characters are iconic now (professional hater Silky Johnson and Chappelle as Prince are my favourites) and still relevant. His standup style is warmly sly and anecdotal: he’s your best friend but, like, 2,000 times funnier. I will never not laugh at his bit on chicken and racism, or applaud his incredibly nuanced “how old is 15, really?” bit on how black kids are perceived.
Continue ReadingFrom crisps to his co-host Danny Kelly, the long-serving radio personality reveals the things that make him laugh the most
Not exactly standup, but Monty Python at Drury Lane in 1974. I had to leave my seat to compose myself – I genuinely thought I might die.
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