Too Soon?

Stand ups causing offence are in the news again. It's a familiar sequence:

1. An emotive story dominates the headlines for a few weeks.
2. Comedians try to make something funny out of it
3. Some of them come unstuck with unsympathetic crowds.
   
4. The press treat them as public enemy number one.
5. Repeat until story fades from public consciousness.
   

Billy Connolly was attacked for joking about Ken Bigley a couple of years ago. Stewart Lee, no stranger to controversy, wrote perceptively about it at the time.

This year it's the turn of Patrick Kielty and Dave Longley.

I have a tenuous personal connection to both of these stories. The more tenuous connection is to Dave. I've seen him perform a couple of times and enjoyed his work. He has always seemed to me to be a comedian who tries to push boundaries, both in material and style, someone who wants to produce something a little different to the usual. I've also performed at Baby Blue, the Liverpool club he was booed off at. I did ok at my gig there, but remember it being a pretty tough crowd; lots of city-boy types who liked the sound of their own voices. I also heard about a recent gig that had to be abandoned there because a stag party got out of hand. And it's in Liverpool, a notoriously difficult city to perform comedy in. It's the last place I'd choose to try a risky topical joke about dead children. But that's me. Dave is clearly someone who enjoys pushing a crowd's buttons, and he often succeeds in getting the balance right.

I completely understand this impulse. All comedians have the devil in us sometimes, which dares us to say the funny thing, regardless of whether or not it's the sensible or sensitive thing to say. To some extent, that's our job. Laughter is often a response to surprise, and to get the biggest laughs it can be necessary to surprise an audience by straying out of the usual social comfort zone. For many comedians this involves talking about sex or other mildly taboo subjects, but a topical reference has the added novelty of immediacy. I managed to get three laughs when I was compering at a gig last week just by mentioning Northern Rock. I didn't have any jokes written about it - all I needed was to say the words and the crowd laughed. Everyone was talking about it, and we were all a little worried about it, so by referencing it I was releasing a little bit of tension. In the aftermath of the London bombings, I heard many comics start their sets by saying something like "Great to see you haven't been put off coming out tonight - after all if we stop watching comedy then the terrorists have won!" It's become a hack joke now, but for a few weeks it almost always got a laugh. When a big story is dominating the headlines there is a pre-existing tension in the room that, as a comedian, you feel that you have to try and defuse. The problem is that sometimes addressing it works and sometimes it makes things worse.

In Dave's case, I think that his biggest offence was really about football. By establishing that most of the audience were Liverpool fans, he was trying to implicate them in his observation about Everton shirts. The Rhys Jones case has caused understandable horror across the country and has also become strongly linked with football throughout the media. Liverpool and Everton fans have made very public declarations of solidarity with the family. Trying to exploit the traditional football enmity in this situation was misjudged. If the joke had been framed more as an idle observation, and had crucially not been delivered in Liverpool, I doubt it would have made much impact. But then maybe it wouldn't have been as funny. It certainly would have been less shocking. After all, to an outside observer, joking about Catholics in front of a comedy club may be funny, but joking about them in front of a congregation is hilarious and joking about them in front of the Pope is hysterical. Only to the observer, though. To the rest of the audience, it's not so funny. As Dave found out to his cost.

Onto Patrick. I have a slightly less tenuous connection to this story. At the end of the usual strident Mail nonsense, a spokesman defends him by saying: "He performed the exact same material last week in London with no complaints whatsoever." That's an interesting statement, because I was at one of his warm up gigs in London that week. In fact, I was compering it. And although it's true to say that there were no "complaints", there weren't that many laughs either. I was surprised that he opened with his Madeleine material, because the audience weren't very keen on it, and he then struggled to engage with them for the rest of his set. I didn't resent him doing it, because it was a small warm up gig and everyone needs to try stuff out, but I was surprised to hear that he'd proceeded to do it again in front of a much larger crowd where the likelihood of people taking offence is much higher.

This all comes down to one big question: should comedians make jokes about these kind of stories? My position on this has always been clear: You can joke about anything, but if you're going to joke about something very sensitive it had better be a really good joke. Or to put it another way: weak puns about sex or Easyjet are bad enough. Weak puns about dead children are unacceptable.

Personally I haven't made any jokes about the McCann case and I haven't heard many that have even made me smile. I think we are all so aware that it is a tragedy and unlikely to have a happy ending that I can't imagine many jokes working except in a very dark and shocking sense. The media circus that surrounds the case has provided much more potential for humour, but even so it's hard to bring it up in a comedy club without alienating the audience. I've seen a few semi-successful attempts to do it, but have never felt comfortable addressing it myself.

Despite all this, I feel strongly that comedians should have the right to address any issue in a comedy club. They should be special places where taboos can be confronted and sick jokes can be told. This doesn't mean that an audience has to laugh at them, but the comedian shouldn't be pilloried for them either. Unfortunately this increasingly seems like a unrealistic prospect, but it's a nice ideal to aim for.

I just hope I never end up having to apologise for a joke in the national media.

Not unless it's really good.

On a (hopefully) unrelated note: Am I the only person who thinks that dog-walkers and ramblers deliberate go out looking for bodies? After all, they're the only people who ever seem to find them. I imagine a dejected dog-walker returning home one morning:
"Morning dear? How was the walk?"
"Rubbish."
"Oh dear. No body?"
"No. And Jeff found two last week. All I found was a dead pigeon. And I had to kill it first."

"Here, Five-A-Day! Eat your Whiskas!"

The Blue Peter cat deception has been getting a lot of media attention today. I happened to turn on Newsround this afternoon and it was the lead item. It was fascinating to watch how they dealt with it.

The story was treated like a massive political scandal. Po-faced presenters said sentences like "the name chosen, Cookie, was ignored for reasons that are unclear." There was an interview with a chastened-looking head of CBBC, in which the anchor asked "How are children supposed to trust CBBC now?" and the head replied that they had made only 3 mistakes in 3 years, although "that is clearly 3 mistakes too many". It was brilliant. The number of entirely confused children across the UK must have been huge.

Essentially it's a tiny version of the David Kelly scandal. I just hope that Socks isn't discovered next week face down in the Blue Peter pond. Then we'd have to have the equivalent of the Hutton Report. Perhaps conducted by Gordon the Gopher.

The strangest thing about this whole story is why they changed the name in the first place. My only thought is that they felt that the name "Cookie" wasn't promoting a healthy diet. In which case I'm surprised they didn't end up calling the cat "Salad".

I may be a bit bored today

When I was shaving this morning I noticed that the shave gel had instructions on it, which included: "Take a hazelnut sized blob of gel on your palm..."

Why hazelnut? It will put off anyone with a nut allergy. I'm also not entirely sure how big a hazelnut is. It's probably smaller than a Brazil nut, but I can't be certain. However, everyone knows how big a peanut is, which I'd also guess is approximately half as big as a hazelnut. So instead they should have put: "Take a blob of gel about the size of two peanuts on your palm..."

Or perhaps they should just let us decide how much gel to use. If I want to use a walnut sized amount, or even go crazy with a coconut sized amount, I shouldn't have the dispenser making me feel guilty about it. It's not a medicine. It's gel.

However, I do approve of the word "blob". It's a word that should be on more packaging. Other words I'd like to see more of include: "squirt", "dollop", "squidge" and "sliver".

I had it a minute ago...maybe it's behind the sofa?

This caught my eye today. It's an amazing story, and one close to my heart, because I am a Yorkshireman born and bred but now speak with a pretty much RP accent. In fact, in several castings I have been asked to speak "less posh". Not asked to do any specific accent. Just "less posh". At that point I tend to go into a awful Mockney/Northern cross-breed accent and invariably don't get the job.

I get asked about "losing" my accent all the time, particularly when I'm interviewed for a local paper or something:

"So where are you from?"
"Yorkshire."
"Really? You don't have much of a Yorkshire accent."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Er..."

I don't know exactly why not. It's probably a combination of factors. My parents aren't from Yorkshire originally. I didn't pick up much of an accent at school for some reason, despite the fact that most of my friends had quite strong accents. And then I went to Cambridge, where I've noticed that people seem either to hold on to their accent very strongly or lose it altogether. Plus I've always been interested in stage performing and public speaking, and I think that often encourages you to develop RP.

However, that's not a very interesting or concise explanation. From now on if anyone asks I'll tell them it was the result of brain surgery. Much more exciting.

In other news, I saw a brilliant headline on Ceefax today:

"Churches in gay bishop showdown"

Now that's a confrontation I'd pay to see! I wonder if it's no holds barred?

May Contain Dancing

There is an advert in Time Out this week for a new dance piece called Touch Wood. It shows two naked dancers entwined, and the tag-line is: "a season of naked ideas danced on a bare wooden floor". Then at the bottom of the advert is a small note: "Warning: may not contain nudity".

It's pretty unusual to have a negative warning like that. You can't imagine the same sort of thing for a film. The poster for Shrek 4 probably won't have the note: "Warning: may not contain violence, sex or real people."

They probably had to put it there because of a case a few years ago when someone complained about the lack of nudity in a dance production at Sadlers Wells. I'd love to have been there when he made the complaint:

"When I saw the production I was dismayed and disgusted! The only reason I went to this show was because of the nudity."
"You went to Sadlers Wells for the nudity?"
"Yes. I could have gone to Soho or the internet but I saw the poster and expected to see hot naked babes in the premier dance theatre in Islington."
"Right. Presumably you'd want this complaint to be anonymous?"
"Oh yes. I'm a theatre reviewer."

You couldn't make it up. Well, you could, but that would be weird.

Two stories that made me smile today, for quite different reasons:

1. The twins from Big Brother are recording a song - a cover of Barbie Girl by Aqua. They are quoted as saying: "It's a dream come true for us to record our favourite song of all time". Barbie Girl? Favourite song of all time? The apocalypse may truly be upon us.

But the quote that really made me smile in that story came from their new record company:

"It is a measure of how much viewers identified with the twins that they were the only Big Brother contestants never to have been nominated for a single eviction."

Now, I'm not exactly an avid viewer of the show, but even I know that the nominations are decided by the house mates, not the viewers. "Nasty" Nick Bateman was never nominated for eviction either. What the quote should read is: "It is a measure of our desperation for a quick buck that we take the opinions of a random group of freaks not to vote to evict the twins as somehow suggesting that they can sing and/or dance. Fuck it, it's only a cover."

And the follow-up quote is in some ways even funnier:

"They are also the only Big Brother contestants ever to have signed with a major record company."

Right. So the record label is trumpeting its own decision as somehow momentous. Translated: "They'd better sell some records or we are going to look like proper idiots."

2. A region of Russia has announced a "sex day". I think there could be some awkward conversations in H.R. offices:

"Vladimir?"
"Yes, sir?
"I've just got your holiday form for next week. You want a day off?"
"Yup."
"To have sex?"
"Uh huh."
"Right. I suppose your wife will need the day off too, then?"
"Probably just the morning to be honest."
"Okay..."
"Actually, can she just come in an hour late?"

Also, no elephants with knives attached to their legs

Spotted at the bottom of a poster for the Last Night of the Proms in Hyde Park:

"In the interests of safety, please do not bring glass items, barbeques or flaming torches."

Flaming torches? I know that Chico and Will Young were performing, but surely nobody was going to organise a mob of angry villagers to attack them?

When was the last time anyone went to an event with a flaming torch? It seems like common sense to me. I'm surprised they didn't add: "Also, no broadswords, Gatling guns or anthrax".

Thank God there was no Cod Liver Oil Boy

I've just read this. I think I might be one of the three people she's referring to. Bananas are one of the few things I cannot eat. I can eat banana flavoured things if I have to, but not anything containing bananas themselves. Apparently they are a great source of potassium. Well then I can live without that particular metal. It also means that I can't drink smoothies, because regardless of what flavour they claim to be on the bottle; "mango and strawberry", "cranberry and raspberry" etc, as far as I'm concerned what flavour they actually are is "BANANA and mango and strawberry" etc.

My most horrifying memory of bananas goes back to when I was about eight years old and a massive fan of the cartoon series "Bananaman". A series I now regard as sinister fruit-based propaganda. After watching a particularly good episode, I rushed into the kitchen and ate half a banana without thinking, hoping to turn into an amazing superhero. Instead I turned into the amazing vomiting boy.

Ironically, the first single I ever bought was "Guilty of Love in the First Degree" by Bananarama. I saw the video for it again the other day. All I'll say is that videos have got better in the last two decades. And that as a ten year old boy I had no taste.

R.S.V.P.

There are two types of people in this world. Those who love fancy dress parties and those who hate fancy dress parties. I am firmly in the second camp.

This thought struck me on Saturday night, as I was walking home past various groups of revellers wearing ridiculous outfits. I realised that when I get invited to a fancy dress party my one aim is to spend as little time as possible thinking about what to wear, but still manage to look like I've made an effort. Making an effort for a party is the equivalent of "it's the thought that counts" for a present. Nobody really believes it but we have to pretend that we do, otherwise society will break down into anarchy.

My top three fancy dress party triumphs, in reverse order:

3. Anything with the word "green" in it. It's my surname, so it'll do for a costume. I've used this pathetic excuse at "Tube" parties ("Yes, I'm Green Park! Or Parsons Green, or Turnham Green...") I've even dressed as "Reverend Green" in the past. A dog collar is easy to make with a single piece of plain A4 paper. And I have two green shirts.

2. At Edinburgh one year there was a "come as your favourite popstar" party. That's a major problem for the "making an effort" brigade. Why "your favourite"? I like Kanye West, but I'm never going to look like him, at least not without causing some serious offence. Ditto Beth Ditto. In the end I chose Bowie. Not in the Ziggy Stardust years, or even Aladdin Sane. No, I went for a mix of Heroes and Hunky Dory. Or to put it another way, I wore a jazzy shirt and put on eye liner. That's the good thing about Bowie. He probably looked like that at least once.

1. At college I was invited to a "come as your hero" party. That's even more difficult than favourite popstar. I didn't really have any heroes, unless you count sportsmen (too much effort) or comedians and writers (not enough effort). I'd left this one very late, and was sitting in my friend's room that evening bemoaning my lack of costume. Then I noticed that he had an empty flowerpot in the corner of his room. I don't remember why - I think it was a prop from a play he'd been in or something - but it gave me an idea.

So a couple of hours later I arrived at the party wearing a green shirt and a flowerpot on my head. The host opened the door to this absurd vision and looked bemused.

"Hi Matt!" she said. "Er...what have you come as?"
"Bill or Ben!" I replied.
"Who?"
"The flowerpot men!"
"They're your heroes?" she said, visibly worried.
"Yes! Now, where's the booze?"

I think that was the nadir of "making an effort". In order to avoid having to make or pay for a costume I pretended that characters from a children's programme I didn't even watch were my heroes. It was a rubbish party too. Nobody seemed to want to talk to me. Possibly because I was wearing a flowerpot.

And pretty soon I discovered that the flowerpot had been decorated in silver paint that was coming off on my head and face. Within an hour I could take off the pot and claim I'd come as the Terminator. But the Terminator with robot alopecia. In a green shirt.

Look! Words!

So the South End gig went ahead and was fun. A decent crowd although smaller than usual according to the management. That's what promoters always say, although in this case I believe them. I look forward to returning when it's full.

On the way there I saw a brilliant billboard headline in the Evening Standard:

"Russian Bombers Head for Britain"

It looked like the kind of horror-headline people feared during the Cold War. What the headline failed to point out of course was that the bombers then turned around and went back to Russia without actually, you know, bombing anything.

It reminded me of the headlines you regularly see in tabloids such as the Daily Sport:

"Outrage Over Nude Britney Photos!"

The "outrage" being because the photos are fake. Doesn't stop them printing them though.

I suspect that what they really want to use as a headline is: "Look! Tits!" but I guess they've decided that would eventually get repetitive and lose its impact.

I think they might be overestimating their readers.

Not a real sports injury

I don't have a lot to report from the last few days. I've had a bad run of gigs, not in the sense that they've gone badly, but in the sense that the last three gigs I've been booked to do have been cancelled due to lack of audience. I think it's the worst run I've had in years.

It's a vexed issue, whether or not to go ahead with a gig with a small audience. When I was starting out, anything above 5 people was great, but now even the smaller gigs I do tend to have a "double figures at least" rule. Obviously you don't want to disappoint the people who did turn up, but trying to do comedy to what looks like a panel of judges is pretty dispiriting. The audience tends to feel uncomfortable too; laughter is a social response, and if there aren't enough people to laugh out loud, the gig will be very very quiet. Comedians stand at the back of rooms and mutter darkly about "smilers". When the lights are strong we can't see people smiling. As a response it's as useless as nodding on the radio.

So the gigs were cancelled. Whether it was because of the tube strike, the nice weather or lack of publicity, I don't know. Audiences for comedy are notoriously hard to predict. For example, is rain good for a gig, or bad? Every promoter has a different answer. What I do know is that having three gigs in a row cancelled is very annoying. Every time you build yourself up for the gig, think about the kind of stuff you're going to talk about, consider whether or not to do some new bits, and then there's a massive sense of deflation. Sometimes all the comedians hang around afterwards and have a drink together, which can bit a lot of fun, but not this week. I think everyone's tired from Edinburgh and just wanting to get home.

But tonight I have a last minute gig booked in South End. Gigs outside London tend to be more reliable in terms of audience, so let's hope it's fourth time lucky!

In other news, I have been playing Tiger Woods Golf on my Wii and have a sore arm.

Transport for Lateness

Yesterday I tried to access some information on a government-run website, only to be told that the website isn't "open" at the weekend. How unbelievably pointless is that? I thought the whole idea of a website was that it was available 24/7. What next? On-line banking that you can't access on bank holidays? It seems that the government has the idea that computer systems also need the weekend to rest, see the kids, do some DIY. It would be quite a sweet image if it wasn't completely bonkers.

I also saw a Transport for London poster at a bus stop yesterday which read: "Important Thing: The more you walk, the more you smile!", followed by a diagram showing an unhappy face next to the words "10 yards" and a big smiley face next to the words "1 mile".

The more you walk, the more you smile! I'm not sure that's entirely true. I'm not sure women in Africa would agree that walking an extra mile a day to collect water would make a massive grin break out on their faces. If anything, I think the reverse is probably true.

Even for people actually at the bus stop it seems a strange message. It implies that the bus may not be coming so you'd be better off walking. That way you might actually get to your destination, then presumably smile ruefully. It's odd. You wouldn't have posters at train stations saying: "Take the bus! You'll be much happier!" Although I suppose you might this week, as there's a tube strike on...

A trio of trivia

1. Spotted in the London Lite: Jamie Bell quoted as saying that he would never go nude on stage like Daniel Radcliffe did, because "he's got a lot more balls than I have". Which raises the question: does Jamie Bell have no balls? Or does Daniel Radcliffe have more than two? I didn't see the production so can't comment. Anyone?

2. The Bishop of London said that people should stop using the memory of Diana "to score points". I'm not sure what game he's talking about there, but it can't be Scrabble. "Diana" would be a rubbish word to play. It's mainly vowels. Even on a triple word score you could get a maximum of 18 points. Ironically, "Queen" is quite a good word to play.

3. At Oxford Circus station last night the fire alarm went off and a recorded voice began to repeat on a loop the announcement: "Will Inspector Sands please go to the operations room immediately". I was amazed that they're still using that name. Surely we all know what it means by now? It's been used for years as a "code" for a fire alarm, so as not to frighten the public. The fact that the fire alarm was going off at the same time was also a bit of a give away.

I think they should bring the system up to date, use a few different names. How about Morse or Wexford? That would make everyone feel safe. Or even better: Gadget. "There might be a fire, but it's about to be put out by an idiotic half-robot-half-man-thing, albeit in an amusingly haphazard way, and really because his clever niece knows how to use a fire-extinguisher!"