Comedy stars of TV Express

 

Stephen K Amos

... or Stephen "the K" Amos as he was introduced for the second half of his act which was in essence his "More of Me" show from the Edinburgh Fringe. Amos is very much at ease with letting his audience know exactly what's going on in his show.

Indeed, he's very much at ease full stop. After a brief warm up slot from a guy called Graham who was quick-witted and got the evening off to a good start. Amos arrived on stage with the audience ready and willing to laugh. Much of the first half is interaction with the audience, or at least a few hand-picked members of the audience (Dean from Braintree, a guy about to get married and a 13-year-old boy whose parents had bought him along to the gig, probably because it was cheaper than a baby-sitter) who then became part of the act almost throughout.

In truth, it wasn't a sell-out gig and too bloody cold for stays to come wandering into the Arts Centre on the off chance that tickets were still available but Amos knew some of the audience who had travelled to see him (one guy seemed to be a "friend" from MySpace who was taking clips on his phone, which will presumably turn up on MySpace some time). And he's worth travelling to see for the seeming effortlessness and warmth of his act. It was a different kind of crowd -- more attuned to stand-up rather than the usual Radio 4 crowd we get.

Maybe the smaller numbers made it more intimate, which works perfectly for the show's second half in which he talks about his upbringing, racism, homophobia, making the TV show Batty Man (which is up for a Bafta) and appearing on EastEnders with Rudolph Walker, the actor from Love Thy Neighbour, the show which taught all young white kids that calling people "nig-nog" was acceptable. (Not at our local Primary School, I might add, as the nearest to an ethnic minority we had were the kids from Little Waltham.)

The whole thing ended on a sing song which rounded off a fine evening.

Mitch Benn & the Distractions

If there's any pattern emerging from the gig reviews I put up it's that I listen to a lot of comedy on Radio 4. I'm not sure when this started. As far back as I can remember I've always found music relaxing to have on in the background; I like a real mixture depending on my mood and that can mean classical music or a movie soundtrack (anything by Jerry Goldsmith is great to work to) one day and anything from The Enid to Nine Inch Nails the next. It's aural wallpaper. I work alone in my little office for the better part of 6 days a week, 51 weeks a year (Saturday is shopping day and Christmas is for the family) -- believe me when I say I've heard my collection of CD's so often I can listen to them without actually realising they're on.

I'll listen to the radio when I'm digging around the internet. I try to keep up with the news and Mel keeps me informed of some of the more ridiculous things happening in the world by e-mail (stories like that of Sgt Podge, the cat, or the guy who was recently prosecuted for simulating sex with a bike). I think I like listening to shows that satirise the news because I get the jokes.

All of this preamble is to let you know I have broad tastes in music and I'm reasonably up to speed on what's going on. It's also my way of figuring out why I like Mitch Benn so much.

The thing is, he really knows music. When he writes a song about Jim Morrison he's got the sound of The Doors down pat... Coldplay... well, you've all heard 'Everyone Sounds Like Coldplay Now' surely? (If you've not, here it is at YouTube)... The Smiths... Duran Duran... Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals... boy bands... he's deconstructed the music, written a set of lyrics and put together an actual proper song "in the style of..." that could well be one of their songs. The musical number, "West End Musical", is like a maths papers where you're asked to show your workings -- the lyrics show you precisely how the songs are constructed.

Since he writes topical songs each week for various shows -- The Now Show, It's Been A Bad Week, Bremner, Bird & Fortune -- you would expect them to have a time limit, after which the humour wears out like some kind of radioactive decay. Not so. The news stories they were based on may have been wrapped around your fish and chips six months ago but the songs are still as fresh as the day they were headlines and that, my friends, is because they are properly constructed songs rather than gags. Funny as all hell but, first and foremost, songs. Musical comedy where as much care has gone into the music as the comedy.

He's also as sharp as a tack when it comes to lyrics and they're not necessarily all parodies of bands or musical styles. I remember thinking that "Let's Have A Minute's Noise For John" was the most poignant and sincere tribute anyone managed to produce at the time of John Peel's demise. And he's quick, knocking out a song about, yes, Sgt Podge during the interval.

Mitch was backed by The Distractions -- this time Kirsty Newton (above) on bass & keyboards and Milo McCabe on drums. Although everything above makes it sound like Mitch is playing a solo hand in the show's success, that's not the case: the band are a vital component to the show and deserve plenty of praise for their part in making this one of the best night's entertainment we've had in some time.

I am shamelessly a fan.

Further info: Mitch Benn website.
Albums: Radio Face (2002), Too Late to Cancel (2004), Crimes Against Music (2005), Official Bootleg (2007, on sale at gigs only).

Jeremy Hardy

Tonight's gig saw the return to Colchester of Jeremy Hardy and a full house. I apologise for the worse than usual photo but we were at the back of the hall and I hate to use the flash when somebody is in full swing.

Anyway, Jeremy Hardy. Brilliant comedian. Love his stuff on radio -- he's best known for appearing on The News Quiz and I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue but has also produced a long-running series of almost-monologues called Jeremy Hardy Speaks to the Nation; all of these turn up regularly on BBC7 so there's no excuse for you not to try and catch some of his genius.

Trying to figure out why I particularly like Hardy I discover that we're almost the same age (nine months difference), we're both left of centre politically, both non-religious and we've both written for The Guardian, although I suspect he was paid more and on time while I'm still waiting to be paid for something I wrote eleven months ago. And there's the difference: if I make a complaint I sound belligerent, where Jeremy Hardy would make it funny. I simmer with indignation and he would be able to turn that into a sharply-barbed one-liner. That's why he's a comedian and I've got high blood pressure.

As he spends most of his act talking about politics and religion you might expect some fire and brimstone. These are, I suspect, quite deeply held beliefs for Hardy -- not every observation that he makes has a punch line -- but he doesn't need to stalk around the stage, shaking his fist and battering your ear drums, delivering his beliefs as The True Nature Of Things; he stands, centre-stage and talks calmly and smiles and fluffs his lines sometimes and loses his place because he's wandered off the original subject and that's fine; it's almost like he's explaining something over the dinner table. Maybe some of that calm will sink in, although I know for sure that the only gag people will actually be able to repeat to their friends will be the last one he told. (Which I won't spoil by telling here.)

Two comedy shows in two nights both very different and both very good. An excellent way to relax before tomorrow's talk. (And if you ask, I might tell you that joke.)

Adam Hills

Just back from seeing Adam Hills at the Colchester Arts Centre which is pretty much the home of comedy as far as Colchester is concerned (although Punt & Dennis filled the Mercury Theatre last year which was pretty good going).

Good gig with a wide ranging audience: the front row alone included sixteen-year-olds and a couple in their fifties, a Mormon and an atheist, all of which we know because Adam Hills works the crowd very well. He stepped out from behind the curtain with enthusiasm and confidence and dove straight in exuding warmth and friendliness.

You might know Hills as the Aussie guy with the artificial leg on Mock the Week; although that fact has only been mentioned once on the show... but it's a bit of a show-stopper and you tend to remember it. It's a unique selling point (as we used to say in the magazine trade) and one he exploits superbly in the second half of his act which ended with him dancing to 'Footloose' (the most obvious gag of the whole set) on the bar with the younger members of the audience joining in the dancing and the older members sitting there thinking, "Should we... maybe... Yes, let's... or maybe not... oh, he's finished." Liberal by politics, conservative by nature, that's Colchester.

Milton Jones

Not long back from seeing Milton Jones at Colchester Arts Centre -- based at a deconsecrated church in the centre of Colchester. Most comedians make some reference to the setting but one of the first gags out of Jones' mouth is that, somewhere, there's a very confused vicar standing in a newly built Arts Centre. The audience warmed to him immediately and stayed with him for the next hour and a half as he rolled out one-liner after one-liner; only two jokes require more than a few seconds to set up and both involve a slight musical interlude; one joke is all set-up (about people arriving late) with no pay-off at all. Come to think of it, one of the longer jokes doesn't actually have a punch line.

This kind of routine burns through jokes at a tremendous rate and it's mostly based around word-play (getting an Action Man for Christmas that, when he pulled the string, said "20, 20, 20, 30, 30, 35..." -- he'd got Auction Man instead), or giving a twist to your expectations of what the punchline might be; you'd expect a lot of groans but the audience was howling with laughter. And if you didn't think much of one joke, there was another 30 seconds later, and another, and another...

It's an excellent show, no politics, no swearing -- just off the wall gags that can leap from the everyday to the surreal in a sentence. If you want a taste of the kind of thing he does, try to catch The Very World of Milton Jones on BBC7 next time it comes round or Another Case of Milton Jones which is currently being repeated on Mondays (11.00 pm) on Radio 4. His style might not be to everyone's taste but it definitely tickled the funnybone of Colchester this evening.

Rich Hall - 14 February 2006

Rich Hall played Colchester Arts Centre on Thursday to a packed (300) crowd. This is the third time we've seen him, although the first time in Colchester and the first full show as Rich Hall rather than in the guise of ex-convict and country singer, Otis Lee Crenshaw.

Colchester Arts Centre

Given that Colchester is both a garrison town and a student town, there's barely anyone in the audience below the age of 30 -- a mention of squaddies saw one guy punch the air; the audience is mostly made up of people who will have seen him on QI or heard him guesting on radio shows. It's not a raucous crowd and Hall seemed to lose faith in it towards the end, complaining that the energy had gone from the room. But since most of the show is built around Hall's grouching it's difficult to know if he meant it or whether it was part of the act. The Colchester crowd isn't the kind that shouts out or gets involved; it may be a liberal town but most of the people are very conservative, shuffling with embarrassment if they get picked out of the audience. But it's a crowd of genuine comedy-lovers, not a bunch of folks who accidentally wandered in from the Quaker meeting hall next door.

Most of the material went down a storm; Hall promises at times to steer clear of politics but most of his cynicism and pent up anger is still reserved for George Bush and his War on Terror (and occasionally the French). Dishevelled, prowling the small stage and growling at the audience, he attacks the concept of the war on terror -- "a heightened emotion." How can you have a war on a heightened emotion?

He also pinpoints a problem with reviewing comedy; in his act he talks about Osama Bin Laden and how he has become the face of anti-American terrorism in the same way that Colonel Sanders has become the face of KFC. Hall subsequently points out that the audience will all be trying to tell the same jokes at work the next day and they will fall flat. Trying to pin down why I thought the gig was superb is almost as futile because it isn't just the material: it's in the deadpan delivery, in the way Hall dominates the room as soon as he walks on stage and in the way he improvises his way through the occasional stumble in the material. He personalises each gig by knowing where he is -- and standing under a shaky-looking lighting rig in a deconsecrated church was a gift to someone of Hall's talent.


(* I've finally acknowledged the 21st century and bought myself a digital camera. The danger now is that everything I do will be photographed and posted... every aspect of my sad little life laid bare. No, dammit! Must... resist... posting... photographs...

(Oh, what the hell. Just this once. Remember the tree that fell through our fence? Well, one month on it's pretty much all chopped up and gone...

(And this was the first picture I took of Mel...

(Poor Mel... she's about as keen on being photographed as I am! But on the principal that I try never to put anyone through something I wouldn't do myself...

(Oh, good grief! I should have had a shave. Note the low angle to remove the second chin!

(So, is this blog going to turn into lots of shots of squirrels frolicking around the garden in the future? Hopefully not. Unless I can't resist... must... resist...!)