bAdvertising

I figured I should finally write a little something here to commemorate the fact that come the end of this month, we of The ACRE will be celebrating our first live show.  We've done live stuff before, in our ones and twos, but this will be the first time we've collectively written an hour's show and will be performing it off our own impetus.

All the live work I've done before has comprised of doing a turn at someone else's night, on a bill of acts unrelated to me.  I'm finding it considerably more daunting to be putting on a night of which the main attraction is meant to be us.  My relationship with the Facebook event page is best described as neurotic, "What do you mean you aren't attending, Person-I-Vaguely-Knew-in-School!?  You fucking cock!" etc.

And on the other side of things the fact that there are actually confirmed attendees fills me with dread when I am holding a 10 minute script which is meant to be exactly 6 times longer within 3 weeks.  It will be.  I am going to write the hilarious fuck out of that script.  When I'm done with it it won't even know it was born.

Yes, yes, self-indulgent passive-aggression, we get it.  What is it about?

The show is cleverly hurriedly cleverly called bAdvertising, which is 1) concise, 2) amusing, 3) a clever play on the iProduct way of naming things and also 4) sums up our basic stance that it is bad.

We're running it in the Gartholwg Lifelong Learning Centre, so we are writing it as a mock adult learning course, which is apt, and is a conceit we hope will cover any sticky spots in the script ("Hay, this bit is educational, that's why you aren't laughing!").

There will be at least 1 actual joke.

I suppose I am documenting this here for posterity and to placate my own worry that though I am not specifically writing the show at this point, I am at least doing show-related work.

On the off-chance that you, the hypothetical person reading this, is within reasonable distance and of a desire to come and see it, all the details can be found here.

Now, I am going to pull a pad and pen out and actually write for it.

"Knock knock".  "Who's there?"  "Advertising."  "Advertising who?" "".

I'll finish that one off later.

Late Night Gig Update

Hello everyone, I felt it was my duty to provide feedback and closure on the gig tonight, as I made such a fuss over it.

It went very well, it was a seated crowd so that didn't cause an issue. Luckily, I was introduced with such vigour that the chatting subsided and most people were paying attention when I started, which meant I didn't have to battle to get attention.

I tried a lot of new jokes, as well as finding a use for the pink trilby I bought in Bristol oh so long ago, and also reading some poems. I am very much enjoying spreading myself out creatively. The specific material I did about the charity worked quite well, which is heartening. Its the only time I'll ever do it I imagine, but nice to know that one off writing can still pay dividends.

The bands were amazing, I ran out of the room to hide during Tiger Please, because I knew I had to go back on, so I had to stay in the zone like Ken Shamrock. It was an acoustic set from their guitarist and their singer, with a lot of covers but plenty of their own stuff as well. I am currently listening to their Seasons EP, which is outstandingly accomplished given how young they are. The singer does not look as if he could possibly house the voice he has, and he was lovely when I met him afterwards. I hope they become as massive as they look like they will become, if only so I can have a handy, but lame, claim to fame story.

Magden Audio, the members of which had organised and run the night where worse for wear for drink when they took to the stage, but their barefaced apologies when they messed up amused me greatly. They hit their stride after a few cockups and the energetic headbanging that followed is more tribute to their performance than any sentence of mine could be. They were awesome.

I will likely share some interesting tales from what happened in my next entry, I'll be talking about it on the radio I imagine, though some of it isn't suitable.

I trust you are doing magnificently.

Pip pip.

Also, I got paid £20 for my clowning, I do believe this means that I have 'made it'.

Without Compere

I have been offered a gig as compere on Friday, and so I have spent most of today scrabbling around for information.

I am slightly nervous as to how this gig will go, and while I am hopeful that it could go very well I am prepared for it to be a catastrophe. If I can profess to have a 'style of comedy' without that sounding dickish then I don't think it is overly suited to compering, which is one of the reasons I am so eager to do it. Audience participation hasn't featured very much in my gigs so far, I feel as though the way I perform must make the audience slightly standoffish, it is in a very definite 'I'll talk, you listen' mould. I am trying to be open to new experiences and not turn things down out of an arbitrary preconception that may be founded on nothing. I think that's why our podcasts and sketches (new ones out tomorrow) are slightly frenetic, because we are actively trying so many different ideas and styles. I am really enjoying the experience of turning our hands to different things.

So I spent the afternoon in a mix of researching the Women for Women foundation, which the night is a charity event for, and also scouring forums for advice about compering. Both the Chortle and the Manchester Comedy Forums were a huge help in that regard, as always. Of course it is necessary to sift through some vitriol in order to get to the levelheaded advice but that's the nature of forums I suppose. The advice was essentially that as a compere its essential to keep calm, and to appreciate that every single sentence doesn't have to be a joke, it is more important to create a positive atmosphere than to be considered hilarious. More than the advice being mindblowing I just think the reading of it was a process I needed to go through in order to get in the mindset, although the more practical pieces such as laying out the rules and order of the night etc were invaluable, and flagged up a number of 'well, duh' things that I wouldn't have considered.

The night isn't focused on comedy, and essentially I will be the only comedy element, and I will be introducing two bands. The advice on the subject of compering music gigs was 'Don't', which isn't overly comforting, and my abiding memory of my own personal experience of being on a music bill previously is of a confused and apathetic crowd chatting quietly in front of me. But of course, I know best. This is different to the artsy open mic set up of that gig, but whether or not that'll change this for the better or for the worse, only time will tell. The two bands are Tiger Please and Magden Audio, who I have been checking out since I got home. I am enjoying both of them, which is good, because even if I have a torrid gig I'll get to enjoy them for free. I'll be doing some research on them through the week so that if the crowd really don't want comedy I can just spout something interesting about the bands. Both of the bands are aspirational and fairly professional outfits, which is slightly frightening given that I am being trusted with introducing them. I hope to prove that the organisers blind faith in me is founded by doing my homework and preparing thoroughly, but it will still likely be touch and go until I get up there.

I'm planning to do some material on the charity that the night is for. I figure that since I am getting involved it is the least I can do is a little bit of research, take an interest. I'm hoping that by starting the gig by addressing the charity directly I can contextualise the night, and put people in the 'give some money' mindset. There was mention of me pulling the raffle afterwards so I figure it would be appropriate to actually touch on the charity beforehand. The charity is 'Women for Women' as I mentioned earlier, and the event is called Cycle China, where women go abroad and bike around Beijing (I think, could be Shanghai, will have to check) and get sponsored. I am going to try and play the charity for cheers, get the audience applauding, and also suggest that the women are only taking part for free holidays to China. The charity is run by Professor Robert Winston, who is a face that people would recognise, but not a name, which isn't very useful. He looks like a well-to-do Mario from an alternate dimension. He is allowed to go biking along with the rest of the all-woman group, so I'm going to suggest he has a fetish for sweaty, exhausted bike riding women, and if that goes well I'll suggest he particularly enjoys applying vaseline to the chafing crotches of said women. Fern Britton is also heavily involved with the charity, and on one occasion she went of the fundraiser biking through Jordan. If the stuff about the charity is working I'll say I would have given her a lot more money if she rode Jordan through on a bike, rather than riding through Jordan on a bike. It needs to be phrased better, I'm working on it. I am trying to get charity-specific material because I feel as though just going on as compere and ploughing through the comfortable 10 I have at the moment would be wrong. It could just be a variant on the nerves I get before any gig though, where I feel as though nothing I've ever said or written has been funny and I am about to make a colossal bell of myself.

I have completely failed at audience participation in the past, probably because my act tends to be a self-contained monologue which I then break out of abruptly to ask a question, which ends up with someone in the front row looking blankly and slightly frightened at me. I have just realised it's always a woman aswell, but that says more about my bias in selecting a questionee rather than anything else. Rather than opting for 'where are you from?' / 'what do you do?' questions that are the staple of audience banter, I figured I would go with a 'what bands do you like?' angle, focusing on the music, which is really what people are there for. Given that the bands on the bill are on the indie/rock end of the scale, I am hoping that I will be familiar with most bands that might get shouted out, and if I am I will do my best to do a knobbish impression of them. I was driving home when I decided on that, and I gave myself a headrush from screaming "ghost in the fog!" on the top of my lungs. This was an impression of Cradle of Filth, who I have never really heard, and it is an impression I stole of my ACREolleague Gethin, who is somewhat extreme on occasion.

My only real worry about this gig is that there will be an empty dancefloor in front of the stage while I am on, because I am not overly sure how I would go about bringing people forward, which I would have to do. There's only so long I can be funny to 10 foot of empty space before it becomes pathetic. I spoke to Dafydd about it earlier and he suggested that I would have to follow the example of Matt Price and go out into the audience and corral them directly, which I am not overly eager to do, but perhaps if I wind myself up enough beforehand I would be able to do it well enough.

Hopefully I am being too pessimistic here, but it will prove to be a delicate balance on the night, having to weigh up just how much I would be willing to cajole people into listening to the comedy given that it is a music gig, not wanting to sully it for the bands, but also wanting to keep it bouncing along for the charity end of it aswell. I am really looking forward to the experience.

Worst case scenario is they aren't interested in the comedy and I look like a bellend. I can deal with that. And in that eventuality at least I can take solace that I cared enough to try, and that it is everyone elses fault for being a narrowminded muso.

Of course, that's not going to happen because the gig will be outstanding. How can it not be, with a semi-finalist at the helm?

My Sketchy Bank Holiyesterday

Since yesterday was a day where the banks were on holiday (hence; Bank Holiday = ETYMOLOGYTASTIC!?) both myself and my ACREmpatriots spent the day playing with creative equipment, attempting to bash out some more sketches to showcase on our youtube channel.

Sometimes our slapdash, last-minute approach to sketch writing makes me slightly nervous as to whether or not certain ideas will be funny or not. These nerves are further compounded by the knowledge that if we got a sketch filmed, we would definitely put it out regardless. I think I should've learned to have faith in our funny bones by now.

I was ill in the run up to the filming day, so I wasn't bringing any ideas to the meeting, but luckily my dearth of new ideas didn't spread to my ACREolleagues, who both brought funny nuggets that we spent the day nurturing.

The first idea we worked on, Sampson's, was a parody of old instructional videos. Sampson turned up in combat slacks, so the idea was to have a video helping a soldier reintegrate into society. This sketch will probably seem the most polished by the time we're done with it, because so much of it is done in the editing, specifically a patronising voice over and sound effects (cheesy ones). We observed that the extent to which the video was defined by props that came to hand was ridiculous, but delightful. The various 'steps' of how to reintegrate were almost completely informed by various items we found around the house we were filming in. Hopefully this won't come across as slapdash in the finished sketch, it is, however, meant to seem random. We were quite pleased with the flexibility of the way we film, and how we can adapt the sketch to implement these silly props, but in the end it all depends on how funny it looks. We edited the majority of it together, and we were still giggling by the end, so I suppose that augers well. The voiceover is still to do, and we're planning to release it tomorrow, the same time as the podcast. Fingers crossed.

The second idea was to do another mock-news report using my Benjamin Bold character, which I was quite pleased with. I am glad that we are happy and confident in suggesting that we integrate other members' characters into new ideas. The actual topic of the mock-report, however, would require filming in a variety of locations, and as daylight would likely abandon us mid-filming, we decided to put the sketch on the backburner, until we can plan it properly and dedicate an entire day to the filming. I doubt I'll wear the toothbrush moustache for Bold this time around, perhaps I will research other fascistic facial hair and have it on a rota-system for him.

So in the end we decided to film the third idea instead, which was a much simpler, straight sketch proposed by Dafydd. Writing and practising the sketch, which was just a conversation between the three of us, was reminiscent of the first time Sampson and I decided on the topics of our first material. Hard to believe that was over a year ago now, but it was heartening to realise that we are still committed and on the same path, knowing that the decision to get creative wasn't a flash-in-the-pan fad.

The three of us had a meal in The Billygoat's Gruff (pub anonymised) and workshopped turns of phrase for the sketch ad nauseam, until we had a huge list which we cherry-picked from. The assumption there is that we actually came up with some cherries, which, of course, you'll have to be the judge of. I had one single pint of cider with my meal, and devolved into something of a mess, which, as a young male, is something of an embarrasment. It would be very cheap for me if I become an alcoholic. We commandeered the function room upstairs, since Dafydd is an Ogreman at the Billygoat's Gruff (this changing the pub name lark is probably confusing) and so we had the run of the empty room. I had expected the room to be akin to the dingy pits which pass for function rooms in these parts, and so I was very pleasantly surprised. It was genuinely classy up there, which will hopefully add to the sketch, although when I took a preliminary glance at the footage it looked quite dark, so it may end up seeming quite moody and gritty, which will contrast (hopefully comedically) with the actual sketch.

The last sketch was the hardest to film, because it was quite late by this point, and we were all flagging slightly. Not wanting to name any names but Luke Samspon specifically proved a handful, with me and Dafydd having to coax him into action like children poking a spiderweb with a stick in order to rouse the spider. Luckily we all kicked into action eventually, though that episode may prove to be the point where the historians look back and nod sagely and declare that it was all a tragic inevitability.

If our comedy endeavors ever bear fruit commercially, I can envision a time when we will have to struggle with the rampant diva side of Sampson's personality. It'll get us some publicity I suppose.

I don't think I've played it up enough to be really ridiculous here, so the accusation that Sampson is a diva may sound like a real criticism. It isn't meant to be.

The funniest moments of the recording process, for us, often come when we mess up, which is why we put a blooper after every sketch. Quite innocuous things can seem substantially funnier because of the strained and contrived situation that filming/acting is. Because we are so aware of what is meant to happen and what is meant to be said, any deviation from this can be stupidly funny.

It takes us ages to film stuff, far longer than it probably should, because of how dedicated we are to trying to make each other laugh, rather than sacrificing the laugh in the moment to make sure the sketch gets filmed and is funny. It's a similar thing in the radio, when I would sneak hidden abusive messages to Dafydd in the playlist information to throw him off his game when introducing songs. When we were filming the conversational sketch in the function room, Sampson brought us out of our slump and injected energy into the proceedings using two novel methods which I will now outline.

In the first instance, he picked up a number of bar mats before flinging them individually, Gambit-style, across the room at his camera, each time repeating "Muh-fucka". Apparently, this was an impression of Ike Turner.

The second method was to give us a quick run-through of his 'Hitler's Mother Sketch', in which Hitler's mother is characterised as a loud, shrill, stereotypical New Yorker Jewish woman, which is both reductive, xenophobic and mesmerising in equal measure. It is impossible to not get swept up in the passion of the performance, in which Hitler's Mother offers him advice as though shouting up the stairs to her reclusive son, advice such as; "You've got to get ayngree Aydolf, they won't listen to ya if you're not ayngree".

I'm not sure yet which of those will appear at the end of the sketch, 'Hitler's Mother' is hilarious, but possibly offensive. I am uncertain how easily misconstrued that performance would be. We'll see how it looks in the recording.

In other 'me-being-involved-in-comedy-on-youtube' news, the video roundup on the Welsh Unsinged Standup Act (WUSA) Competition from my heat is up now, with me alphabetically placed at the beginning of the video, which is handy for people who want to see me in it (which is everyone, I am the king). My set was edited so that the very beginning and the very end appear on the video, which is interesting because it's a mix of my oldest jokes and brand new stuff I'd only tried that night, and the rude bits from the middle are gone, which means I can show it to my mother. Which is nice.

That video can be found here.

We should be releasing a new podcast and the sketch tomorrow, in which case I will be plugging away to my gut's distress, so keep your bananas peeled for that.

I hope you have a pleasant evening.

@adamgilder
acrecomedy@googlemail.com
www.theacre.net

Yep, It's Still Shining

I probably shouldn't have left it so that my post last week didn't have a conclusion, that was slightly inconsiderate of me. It's the sort of thing that would annoy me as a reader. So my apologies.


The gig went quite well, I did eventually get gonged off because instead of telling jokes I floundered and repeatedly called god a cunt, but in doing so I raised £4 for charity, so maybe there is a god after all. But he is definitely a cunt.


I was able to try out my new story, which was an excellent opportunity as I was then confident enough in it to use on Monday, where I took part in the second heat of the Welsh Unsigned Standup Act competition, which I did really well in, I am through to the semis. I will need to pull my socks up a bit if I want to have any sort of chance in the next round, which is in July.

I think all the fussing and second-guessing that happened last week was definitely worth it, as stressful as it was at the time. It is a process I think I'll have to go through for all new material, just to be certain that I have enough of a grasp on it, although I am hoping that as time goes on the chances of completely blanking like I did in Neath will fall away, eventually becoming 0. I suppose the more material you have the more there is to call upon should things go belly-up. Similarly, the more confident you get as time goes on, the more you'd be able to confidently cover and fill without feeling as though things will crash if you veer from material. Throughout this paragraph I have slowly replaced the term 'I' with the term 'you', I don't know whether this illustrates that my comments are just baseless hypothetical conjecture or whether it's just a trick to distance myself from my own comments.


I automatically use 'you' where I mean 'I' a lot, and it annoys me. It's linguistic trickery, where I remove my agency from the comments, so that it sounds hypothetical and passive, rather than sounding as though it directly involves or represents my opinions.
A little bit of meta-linguistic introspection for you all there, I can only imagine that you are all fascinated and delighted with it.


In only slightly less solipsistic news, we've been slogging away on the sketches, with Hard Reset now joining Just Another Minute on our youtube channel. The feedback we've received has been positive which is great, but I am bracing myself for the eventual, inevitable swathe of 'epic emo gay faggot'-style bile which I figure washes everywhere in the turgid typhoon which is the internet.


When it comes I will say to them (herein referred to as 'The Haters):


Do you know who I am!? I am a Semi-Finalist.


Yes indeed, that'll give them pause for thought.

The Sun Shines Out of Mine

My day today has been coloured by a constant niggling level of nerves, due to having a gig in Swansea tonight.


I've written new stuff to flesh out my set, and been occupying myself by running and re-running through the set in my head, recording it and replaying it to myself and making a bullet point list of the running order of it in a series of tedious attempts to remember it.


My all-in attitude to memorising this new stuff comes from having blanked completely during my last gig and being left on stage open-mouthed and silent, looking like a grade-a bellend, and no mistake.


I've reverted to my old tactic of attempting to mesh the material in a (perhaps somewhat contrived) narrative flow, so that it is less staggered, and therefore, in theory, easier to remember. It seems to be working so far, and actually outlining the blow-by-blow of the material (this is a pun given the nature of the set, so I will titter to myself) has helped no-end in committing it to memory. Of course all this blathering might be hugely premature, only time will tell. I also plan on putting the bullet points on my hand before I go on, which I've not done before, but I think it's necessary, I want at all costs to avoid the complete blank that happened before.


I am a lot happier with the new material than I was with the stuff I had planned to say before I blanked, which I think will also be a lot of help. Being genuinely enthused by the things you want to say is likely a much better catalyst than trying to remember a story that you think people are going to react badly to. I also hadn't learnt it well enough.


This entry has devolved quite quickly into anxious hypothesising, it is essentially the blogging equivalent of rubbing palms together or biting your fingernails.


So in a slight change of focus, I am quite awed by how difficult it must have been to attend far-flung nights without the aid of e-mail, satnav and google maps. I have a spot tonight in a bar which I've never visited, and despite this I not only know exactly where it is, thanks to google maps, I also know where I'm going to park, as well as being aware of several alternatives should those spaces be full.


I am very grateful for all this technology, if I had to potter around Swansea by myself looking for the venue on the night, I think I would be reduced to a gibbering nervous wreck. Even as it is I am not wholly comfortable with the process, I get infused with a mix of excitement, of feeling very grown up indeed, and then with an acute feeling of being very clearly outside my comfort zone, which probably isn't hugely conductive when I am attempting to remember a new story I plan on telling.


I'm sure the only answer is to heed the advice that the Pub Landlord would surely give, which is to SNAP OUT OF IT!


The gig tonight starts quite late, so I am confident that I'll get there with plenty of time to spare, and I will use the time beforehand wisely, running through my set like I should have done before, where instead I sat staring into the middle-distance like a vacant dolt. That's right, a dolt.


This blog is a burst of rampant solipsism, I must apologise. Hopefully it hasn't been too nauseating getting to see the view of the inside of my brain, which seems to be lodged squarely up my own arse.


This has been an exercise in releasing nervous energy, if it's not enough I will have to torture a kitten or something, who knows.


Expect a blow-by-blow post mortem of the gig tomorrow. Actually, don't.

The Swirly-Eyed Snake of Trust

The blog community is so selfish. I log on, hoping to have something to read at any hour of the day, and it turns out that I am completely up to date on the blogger’s that interest me. This is utterly unacceptable. And so it has come to pass that I have to fill the void myself, though it is unlikely that I will be as surprised and enthused by my own writings.

Blogger, blog thyself!

And I begin by recycling.

I was asked earlier on today to explain, in detail, what I was doing on the 17th of November (2009). Now perhaps I am too trusting, or too self-involved, but I set about detailing it right away. I was actually surprised by how much information I was able to dredge up about what I’d been doing.

Using the resources at my command: twitter, blogspot, diary, e-mails, even amazon, I was able to reconstruct the day. This is what I sent:

*****

Hopefully this isn't over the top, but here we go.

Here is an approximate account of myself and my behaviour on 17th November, 2009.

I estimate that I woke possibly around 9 or 10 a.m. as I was able to have a lengthy bath (there is no other kind) cook food, and also edit a podcast. The house would have been empty bar me and the puppy, as my father would have been asleep, as he works nights, my mother in work, and my sister in school. Therefore it is likely that I would have spent some time in psychological battle with the dog, as he wasn't fully housetrained, and so given to bouts of inappropriately-located bowel expulsions and random acts of violence on his box and also the pig that used to be the doorstop before he killed it. As it was a Tuesday, I was likely editing the Sunday edition of the radio show I do with Dafydd and Luke, as I would have edited the Saturday one on the Monday. I know for certain I spent most of the early afternoon editing, as I have left twitter evidence for myself at twitter:

Editing is a long and arduous process. This is an ongoing lesson I am learning.
5:10 PM Nov 17th from web

I have checked my e-mails from that day, and it was the day I received Dafydd's stings and jingles which he recorded for the podcasts, which I must have been inserting into the recordings. I also received confirmation from Amazon for a purchase of a cowbell, which I bought as a secret santa for a colleague.

By the time I tweeted that, however, I would have been in work, as I would have left my house at 4:15PM in order to reach work before 5:00PM, when my shift starts. As it was a Tuesday I would have listened to Episode 6 of Richard Herring's podcast 'As It Occurs to Me' on the drive in to work.

In work I usually spend Tuesday researching 'Footballer or Religious Figure' for that weekend's radio shows, though whether I did so on this particular day is not certain. If I did I would have been on wikipedia researching Vicente Rodriguez Guillen, better known as Vicente, who plays for Valencia CF. I then researched Don Quixote in order to fabricate an untrue history for him. I then researched Mia Hamm and Ludmila Javorova for the Sunday version.

Another tweet from later the same day:

Trying to find subliminal messages in shower gel products I was frightened by the inclusion of the ingredient Sea Kelp. Seek Help.
7:49 PM Nov 17th from web

proves that I spent at least a portion of my time in the bath attempting to back up my theory that gender stereotyping in shower products is rife, as ingredients in the purple can include 'Enriching Jojoba and Passionflower' and the 'for men' equivalent includes 'Birch Bark and Sea Kelp'. A diary entry from the 16th notes that I was reading Kurt Vonnegut's 'Slaughterhouse 5' and it is likely I would have read this while in the bath.

I was likely in text correspondence with a friend throughout the day, as I usually am. I may have spent the night watching the iPlayer or 4oD, probably also discussing ideas for the radio, specifically the stings/jingles, with Dafydd on MSN.

I am actually surprised that I am able to piece so much of it together, though it is a pity I didn't keep a diary entry on the
day itself. Entries on the 16th and 20th gave me a rough idea of what sort of thing was going on.

I trust that you aren't going to use this information for evil.

Gilder

*****

I do worry that I am too trusting. I assumed that as the individual is an art student, the information will be used in that direction, which is more likely the case. Though if I am abducted and taken to a shady terrorist sleeper cell, we will all know who to blame. Osama Bin Laden.

I have a gig tonight and so I have to play around with new ideas so that I can incorporate them into an existing set without them feeling clunky and out-of-place. I am excited about trying them out. They are about elk, surreal labyrinths and Nick Griffin’s taste in music. I don’t particularly want to discuss Nick Griffin, as I’ll simply be adding to the reservoir that is that topic, but hopefully my take is sufficiently unique and concise to give a go.

No doubt I will fail to document on this blog whether or not the material went well, so we can all just assume that it did, and sit cross-legged on the floor in homage to my greatness.

Just like that.

Cor, Aren't Girls and Boys Different?

Is the underlying assumption in a piece written by Germaine Greer recently, which argues, quite rightly, that women are as funny as men, and provides some possible reasons why women aren’t as numerically prevalent on the stand-up comedy circuit as men.

 

This piece was of interest to me as ‘gender difference’ has comprised a large portion of my academic studies whilst at University, mostly from a sociolinguistic perspective.

 

Putting aside the obvious biological differences, many of the perceived stereotypical differences between ‘men’ and ‘women’ are informed by the language we use to frame these ideas, rather than on an underlying universal truth, as is often assumed.

 

I would agree with some of the points made by GG, inasmuch as I do not think that the pleasure received from making people laugh is linked to the male orgasm or that the microphone is a phallic totem (especially as many comedians are just as funny using earpieces).  I would also agree that making people laugh is not an exercise of power over the people laughing, though I am hesitant to agree fully with the idea put forward by GG that the comic is searching for acceptance.  Surely they are looking first and foremost to make the audience laugh?

 

GG states that “Female performers don’t make it, don’t get the prizes, don’t get the audiences and don’t make the money.”  I’m sure a look at Dawn French’s bank balance and Sarah Millican’s trophy cabinet would disprove this rather ill-informed generalisation (as would a glance at this year’s student competition’s qualifying acts).  It also misses the fact that a huge amount of male acts also do not win awards or earn a huge wage.

 

There are so many statements in the piece that I disagree with at a very basic level, such as: “Men…have been honing their skills ever since they started school.  Girls have nothing similar of their own and are not invited to horn in on the guys’ act.”  The problem with this statement is it sees ‘men’ and ‘women’ as united groups, with all members within them conforming to the same truths.  It does not address the fact that just because two people are either male or female this is no indication that they will be similar to each other, in terms of humour or indeed in any way other than biological.  In my personal experience there is certainly no formality or rules over who can or cannot join in any joke, regardless of what sex you are.

 

Underlying all of these claims is the assumption that “women are less competitive”, which is a standpoint which is generally accepted, though it would be very difficult to actually prove this.  A question I am often asked in seminars on the subject of gender difference is “Which men and women are you talking about?”  This is certainly a valid question to ask of GG’s piece, as I can be fairly confident that there are competitive and uncompetitive people within both the male and female of our species.

 

GG also draws a distinction that “men do the inspired lunacy, women do droll”.  This is intriguing as I am uncertain how to differentiate between the two things.  Though I am a fan of neither I would struggle to describe the styles of Sarah Silverman and Joan Rivers as droll, which is defined as ‘amusingly odd or whimsically comical’, and surely there is no greater inspired lunatic than Josie Long?

 

Despite arguing this I find there is very definitely a numerical disparity between male and female acts.  I have only been attending comedy gigs for a few years, and yet I have likely seen roughly a hundred male comics, whereas I have only seen sets from four female comedians (please note that I have not been avoiding gigs with female comedians).

 

In some ways though this may work in favour of the female comics, as I can name them all (Shappi Khorsandi, Lucy Porter, Helen Keen and Mab Jones), whereas the vast majority of male acts that I have seen have been forgotten.  Equally though I am sure that the acts in question would rather be remembered on the strength of their material, rather than on which toilets they use.  There is also a geographical element to my having seen so few acts, for I have seen many more through the magical mediums of television, radio and the internet, many of whom I intend on seeing live (Josie Long, Sarah Millican, Susan Calman, Bridget Christie and Kirsten Schaal amongst others).

 

I don’t think that having so few female acts suggest that women aren’t funny, for instance I have never seen a double act or a sketch group live either, which would then inform that these aren’t funny, which is certainly not the case.

 

Comedy is such a subjective beast that it is impossible to argue that something ‘isn’t funny’, for there is always an unspoken suffix of ‘in my opinion’ at the end.

 

GG states that: “Every year produces a new crop of women standups who will take the world by storm, and when the froth subsides very few names persist”.  It is worth noting that this statement also holds true if you remove the word ‘women’.

 

I think that stand-up comedy as a male-dominated space is perhaps informed by its socio-historical roots in variety and dancehall, where struggle for equality hasn’t yet balanced the numbers in terms of comedians.

 

As a general rule when I go to see comedy, I hope that I am going to see something that makes me laugh, and this isn’t qualified with a preference of either male or female comedians.  I don’t think I am a radical maverick in saying that it is the content of the brain that is key to comedy, rather than the content of the underwear.

 

In a world where people still differentiate for such ridiculous reasons as colour of skin and sexual preference, it is hardly surprising that some people believe that no woman is funny.  Quite simply, they are wrong.  My perhaps unsatisfying wishy-washy conclusion is thus: some people are funny, some people aren’t.  It depends on what YOU think is funny.  Funny, that.