Differences between U.K. and North American comedy pt. 1

I have bit off more than I can blog with this particular topic, there is simply too much information to cover so I will avoid going into much depth and to repeat points that I have made in other parts of this blog. So in rapid-fire sucession are some of the differences that I feel exist between stand-up in North America and in the UK. These are, of course, wild simplifications designed to make the salient points as visi-bubble as possi-bubble.

1 – One of us vs. one of them

In the U.K. the crowd seems to like to feel that in some way the comedian is “one of us”, a friend of the people, somehow connected to them. The success of Al Murray is a great example of this, and from the little pub shows to the bigger club shows the UK audience seems to relate to the idea of “mateship”. Comedians with that a friendly, accessible quality proliferate here such as Russell Kane and imports Craig Campbell and Steve Hughes.There are other factors at play of course such as the acceptance of the abstract, and a special space for comedians with a type of “rock star” quality like Russell Banks and happily dancing on the middle ground is Mr. Izzard; a happy and talented hybrid.

North Americans also have an appreciation for friendly accessible characters in stand-up, but overall they prefer those who are somehow, in some way larger than life. They demand someone who is not just “one of us” but “one of them”, “them” referring to performers. The rapid-fire multi-voiced Robin Williams, the manic elasticity of Jim Carrey, the fire and brimstone shriek of Sam Kinison; these are not ordinary people, they are performers!

On a practical level what this translated to is a need for a comedian in the UK to perform for and with their audience, at least until they become famous, and hopefully afterwards as well. In North America a comedian is far more likely to perform “at” a crowd rather than with it. The audience can be just as involved but the relationship that brings about the reaction tends to be one that keeps the comedian as a distinctly separate entity.

2 – A sense of the craft

For whatever reasons, and there are many that could be speculated upon, the UK crowd seems, from my minor sampling, to have a greater inherent knowledge of the actual craft of stand-up than their North American counterparts. North American and particularly American crowds will powerfully respond to “what” someone is; “wow, who is this guy?!, he’s crazy”. A UK crowd is far more likely to be really impressed by a comedians skill set – they love the clever. Whether it is the way the words are assembled or the originality of the idea itself, British crowds are impressed when it is done with skill and show their appreciation enthusiastically. This factor also allows the comedian to be quite experimental as the crowd will often respect the novelty, though not necessarily applaud the results. As with the first point, this means that some comedians will experience easy trans-altlantic transition and others will not.

3 – The road warrior

The North American comedian knows the phrase “road warrior” and uses it often. Not all of them are road warriors, some hold down day jobs in cities so they can hone down their set at night, and hopefully one day be discovered but from the corporate comic who lives in airports to the road comic who will often drive more than 7 hours to get to a gig, North American stand-up is as much about travel time as stage time. I will hazard a guess that this results in less bitterness and burn-out in the UK scene. While I was there, I only met one comedian who had more than 20 years of comedy experience, but if he was any example, then this theory is correct. This is no indictment on the comedians or the way the comedy scene is run in North America, it is simply a symptom of geography. In the UK the distances are so small that it is rare that a gig is more than 3 hours away and without the stress of such intense travel and with the ability to spend more time at home the job must have a slightly different nature.

There ...that's a start. If you have any comments or criticisms of this set of observations please do let me know. More to come soon.

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The post that wasn't too

The speaker blog is now at:

http://psworkbench.blogspot.com

with it's first post "5 reasons why you shouldn't speak like Barack Obama" . I hope to be back with another entry here by the end of the day, Blog willing.

www.chrismolineux.com

http://twitter.com/chrismolineux

the post that wasn't

Dearest Blog-folk

My apologies for the lack of a new post, I have been working on numerous other projects including a blog on public speaking skills. The first post on this new blog "5 reasons why you shouldn't speak like Barack Obama" will be up shortly - I will post the details. The next posting on the differences between UK and North American comedy styles will be up shortly. many thx C

www.chrismolineux.com

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UK Comedy Observations pt.5

For many years I lived on an island; a community where all knew all, and I remember that whenever any musician, artist or performer was reviewed in the local paper it was always in the most glowing terms. This bask in the rays of praise may have given some comfort to the reviewee and have helped to foster some saccharine sense of community but it gave little objective information. Similarly,as a comedian, it is a professionally dubious tactic to roll out aspersive reviews of your fellow comedians and that is why I am so comfortable in writing this.

Firstly, almost a month has passed since these shows so recollections are only in the vaguest sense. There will be no pedantic point picking here. Secondly, I was truly impressed by both acts that weekend so an honest review will float on praise rather than sink under criticism.

Kent Valentine was an unknown commodity to me. An Aussie turned UK resident I believe. A casual, lean and bearded soul, who, like Tom Stade, had a relaxed demeanor that belied the level of craftsmanship behind his comedy. Unassuming in manner, but direct and communicative with the crowd, Kent worked with a range of ideas, some staples, some unique. The humour was clever but very accessible, with some bite and with occasional welcome tinkerings with abstraction. An opening act with all the strength and consistancy of a headline act. I hope I have the good fortune to work with him in the future.

Tom Stade, as was mentioned in an earlier volume of this blog, is a friend of many years standing; an immutable entity who could giggle his way through his own kidnapping. In a show many years ago I clearly remember him being throughly amused because the crowd didn't like him. "This is great, I came here to make you people happy and you fuckin' hate me... right on"

The spark he had led to brighter lights in Toronto, then L.A. and eventually, the UK where he has been very successful. It is a pleasure to see him after so many years, both on and off the stage. His performance has become so comfortable and controlled. With sweetness and savagery, razors and roses, he keeps the level of laughter high throughout his set. He is a true comedian, which means he would be helpless in a world where he had to actually work.

Tom is also the one who warned me the point of frustrating repetition that I should not expect too much, too quickly on my UK trip. "These people are really good over here. Don't do what all these other people do and jump right into a showcase at the Comedy Store or Jongleurs, it'll blow your chances here." So it was particularly rewarding when after the first show he said " That was excellent man, you have to go the Comedy Store, they'll love you."

It did go well. But why? What is it that British crowds really go for that North Americans seem to shower with indifference? Why can some successful comedians play both sides of the Atlantic with ease while other equally talented and accomplished people know better than to even attempt it? After such a limited survey I would be foolish to think I have all the answers but in part 6 I'll take a bit of a run at it - wish me luck.

UK Comedy Observations pt.4

On to part four. As the symbol for "four" means death in Chinese I shall be careful not to tread on the tiger's tail.

The Comedy Box is located in Bedminster, a southern adjunctive morsel of Bristol. It was a 5 minute walk along Raleigh road past the Tobacco Factory theatre. On the way there Tom had to stop for cigarettes and as we waited in line at the shop we were accosted by dishevellant man we had passed a moment ago outside, crouched in the street , furrow-browed, mumbling summat' about Britney Spears. Soon into his accostations, it became evident that he had been practicing his "crazy man" script when we first passed him by. It was an abstract rambling that related a dream about Britney Spears offering him her shoe. He was exceedingly pleased that I wasn't afraid of him and that I actually volunteered comments - we were privileged to have witnessed one of his first performances. It was a little nervous and wobbly around the edges but he did his best and the end result made me want to pat him encouragingly on the back like a child who'd just scraped out something tolerable on the violin.

We arrive at "the Box" which is located overtop a very casual and inviting student'y pub, the Hen and Chicken, good for a pint and a pizza. We were met by Steve Lount who was very accommodating and had a palpable enthusiasm for comedy, which is always a good sign. The room itself was most certainly a box, p'raps 25' x 55' with comedian’s posters decorating the walls with their blaring sameness. The room also had a moderate ceiling and no pillars so sightlines were perfect and at a glance, the sound system looked more than ample. The bar itself was set like a hole in the wall toward the back of the room and was announced only by those crowded in front. No neon beer signs, no glass-washer, in fact I don't remember even seeing a till. I am writing this several weeks after the event, and at this point I can’t recall the look of the tables and chairs, but I think that is how they would have liked it. The stage was a black ply slab and was backdropped with thick curtains, all that was necessary and nought that was not.

This was my Brit-debut as an m.c. -- also known as a host and, in the UK, a compere, which sounds to my ear, more like a dessert than a ringmaster. The same format I had observed in Norwich was observed here – the bar shut down and the house lights dropped. In fact, as the off-stage intro for the MC was given
all the lights were off and the place was so black I could barely make my way to the stage. The room was ¾ full and the crowd was enthusiastic and attentive. I engaged in some interaction, but mostly worked with material, which was received well. It felt as though the crowd found some of the more animated pieces arresting as well as amusing and there was a pervasive sense of admiration and appreciation that was coupled with the laughter and amusement aspect. If a line was particularly well tailored or clever the crowd would respond to that aspect specifically. I have experienced this in North America but not at such a palpable level. Comedy about history, science and philosophy flew well, but it was certainly not a room with an intellectual air at all, not a monocle to be seen, just 20 – 50 year olds of a relatively informal demeanor who seemed to really appreciate the art of comedy.

One of the best parts of the weekend was who I was working with, but after long and feverish negotiations I have agreed to save them for pt. 5.

UK Comedy Observations pt.4

On to part four. As the symbol for "four" means death in Chinese I shall be careful not to tread on the tiger's tail.

The Comedy Box is located in Bedminster, a southern adjunctive morsel of Bristol. It is a 5 minute walk along Raleigh Rd past the Tobacco Factory theatre. On the way Tom had to stop for cigarettes and as we waited in line in the shop we were accosted by dishevellant man we had passed a moment ago who had been mumbling summat' about Britney Spears. Soon into his accostations, it became evident that he had been practicing his "crazy man" script as he sat by the road. It was an abstract rambling that related a dream of Britney Spears offering him her shoe. He was exceedingly pleased that I wasn't afraid and actually volunteered comments - we were privileged to have witnessed one of his first performances. It was a little staged and ragged around the edges but it made me want to pat him encouragingly on the back like a child who'd just scraped out something on the violin.

We arrive at "the Box" which is located overtop a very casual and inviting student'y pub, the Hen and Chicken, good for a pint and a pizza. We were met by Steve Lount who was very accommodating and had a palpable enthusiasm for comedy, which is always a good sign. The room itself was most certainly a box, p'raps 25' x 55' with comedians posters decorating the walls with their blaring sameness. The room also had a moderate ceiling and no pillars so sightlines were perfect and at a glance, the sound system looked more than ample. The bar itself was set like a hole in the wall toward the back of the room and was announced only by those crowded in front. No neon beer signs, no glass-washer,in fact I don't remember even seeing a till.

This was my Brit-debut as an m.c. -- also known as a host and, in Blighty, a compere, which sounds to my ear, more like a dessert than a ringmaster. The same format I had observed in

UK Comedy Observations pt.3

As promised, on to Bristol.

Bristol was an important show in me 'ed. Not important with any deep and foreboding gravitas, but significant for a number of reasons. This was my reunion with Tom Stade, a fine friend of many years, an immutable character with an appealing blend of good nature and addled clarity. I was fortunate enough to take him on his first road trip and at my wedding he was the m.c. who charmed and challenged the prevailing prim. I had hunted down this gig as it gave me a chance to work a week-end together. Craig Campbell had kindly referred me to Steve Lount at the Comedy Box but had warned me that getting booked in might not be done easily, so when I managed it, I was most pleased.

This was my first UK gig where there were accommodations provided and a review of them is essential. Comedians, certainly those in Canada, spend more time at their accomodations than at their venues. In addition, the accommodations are not only where you stay, they are where you have been put. They are reflective of how the club or booker sees the performer: as a cog in a show-business wheel he can be shoved into any ill-scented, hobo-ridden cog den, or as a someone who, after cumulative years of a long day's travel would feel truly blessed by the most average of hotel rooms.
My new home in Bristol was a bed and breakfast wedged comfortably in a section of brick row-houses which looked over a pleasant but well littered waterway. While hotels have managers and/or front desk clerks, bed and breakfasts have either home-owners or "hosts" - of the two hosts are usually preferable as they have a degree of seperation that makes things more comfortable. With a home-owner you feel as though they have made a decision to allow you to sleep in their house and your appearance and behaviour are to quote Milligan "scrutinized with an intense scrute". The gods be praised, I am greeted by a host, she is very sweet and, in friendly west-country tones, shows me to my room and lets me know that her family has lived on the same street for generations. Pertinent information is given: time of breakfast, how to acquire soap, and directions to the club. The fact that my floor has two bathrooms on it is evidently a source of no little pride.

I am on the top floor, stairs are wonderfully narrow and floor covering varies from floor to floor. I quite liked my little room, and it was a little room. It was very clean and it had a little bed, a little television, a little wardrobe, a little sink, a little kettle and a massive skylight, which actually opened up to reveal a pigeon point view of the city. How did I reach this skylight, you might ask. This was easily achieved because the ceiling in the room began to taper down from about 5 feet into the room and eventually ended about waist-high. This left me with an ample 6x6 patch to stand upright and roam about in -(I later discovered the bathrooms on my floor were equally roomy). I felt as though in days gone by, when the room was plank-floored and single paned it likely served to house a crippled child who was an embarrassment to the family.

Lemony Snicketisms aside, I was contented in my new nest and looked forward to flying out to do my show that evening.