Last Wednesday I saw the drama society's production of 'Accidental Death of an Anarchist' (Dario Fo) which was bloody brilliant. I genuinely didn't expect it to be as good as it was, despite the marvellous reviews, there's always a degree of 'Mustn't upset the students', but I've got to say (taking nobodies feelings into account) it was marvellous. Being (don't judge me) a bit of a Gleek (yes, I capitalised it. Build a bridge, get over it) a bit of 'Don't Stop Believing' karaoke is always welcome, and Mikey O'Neill (who you don't know, but one day will) playing a role he was born for.
Roll on Thursday and say hello to my directing assessment, and the first person to have chosen a comedy as apposed to something all, you know, serious. The opening of John Godber's 'Teechers' (Just taking a moment to pause and recommend that if you ever have an opportunity to watch one of Godber's plays, do so. They're so good!) was the script that I eventually chose, having read about forty, but for this reason and that reason had to ditch.
I'll confess, it wasn't the prospect of directing a comedy that was incredibly daunting, as opposed to directing a comedy that wasn't black (I think you'll find that's the correct linguistic term, not racism thank you very much). Darker stuff, the stuff where you know that you shouldn't laugh but can't help it, that stuff is easy. It's the nice stuff that I was scared of. But it went swimmingly. A few edits to the script, a touch of wordplay, more parody than you can shake a stick at, and a couple of outright insults (meant and (thankfully) taken in good humour!) meant that it actually went down a success. Obviously not perfect, looking back on it there are a million things I'd change to make it better, but still. Bright side and all that.
Then we move on to Saturday, and after a 180 mile trek back to the north I was running a Shakespeare workshop for the 'A Taste of Shakespeare' event being run by the Oldham Coliseum Theatre. A workshop that involved being funny. It involved having to be willing to make a fool of yourself, to just let go (which I am the first to admit is something I'm absolutely terrible at, yet the folk I had were absolutely marvellous. I can't thank them enough); and (and here's the risky bit) using bits of scripts from one of Shakespeare's comedies. Comedies famous for not being funny.
(NOTE TO SELF: stop using parenthesis so often!)
We used Act 1 Scene 2 from 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', the first scene with the Mechanicals as it has a nice number of people and enough material to properly play around with. I won't bore you with the details of the actual workshop, but wish to point out that it was funny! Everyone was having fun. Everyone cracked jokes, got the satire, performed brilliantly, and thoroughly enjoyed the comedy of it.
This is all massive pre-amble to a post all about comedy. Comedy is massive, currently there are stand up comedians who are outselling bands and singers in massive stadiums. It's the new rock and roll, and personally, nothing pleases me more.
(That's a lie, a lot of things please me more. Call it poetic licence)
I like to think of myself as something of a connoisseur of comedy. There are very few stand-ups I haven't heard of, sitcoms I haven't had a go at watching, panel shows that I haven't seen. My twitter feed is littered with comedians telling me about their cats (Susan Calman), sock length (Rob Brydon), or baby anecdotes (Mark Watson, Jason Manford, Robert Webb, etc.). I thoroughly enjoy comedy, and am in great admiration of those who have the ability to make people laugh. This world can be fantastically grim. Really it can. We, as people, as societies, are capable of some monstrous and horrific things. It's not nice, but it's true. We're in a bloody war that only seems to get worse. We're still struggling back from the worst economic recession we've had. Our children are an ASBO nation (I say 'our', I don't have kids, but am not young enough to be classed as one). Our prisons are full, our patience thin, our extremists getting louder and our society facing struggle after struggle.
And I think that it is a beautiful thing, an astonishing and amazing and immense thing, a thing to make you feel proud about Britain, that our society is flooded with comedy. British stand ups are considered the best in the world, we have hundreds of stand up venues, it is becoming more and more accessible and more people than ever are standing up and giving it a go, making Britain laugh. I think it's a brilliant thing that as our society gets more and more negative labels, our comedy industry has exploded, and now we have more comedians than we know what to do with. Quick! Commission another panel show!
The fact that satire is so integrated into our culture is a great thing, and although my natural instinct is to be negative toward our politicians, I give them one thing; Gordon Brown mightn't like being satirized and parodied on our screens. Cameron might not like the fact that people only love his poster campaign for the purposes of doodling. Clegg may not particularly enjoy that (until very recently) he was famous for being the guy that wasn't famous. They might not like being a laughing stock, but at least they are.
I would always choose to be here, in a 'Broken Britain' without 'the family' and 'failing systems', that is filled with laughter, than a perfect country where funny is not allowed.
"Lift up your head. Release the tension in those shoulders. And laugh. Because laughter's only human. Laughter keeps us in the moment and it keeps us on our toes. Laughter separates us from the gods while binding us closer together. If you're looking for a miracle, look no further than your most recent belly laugh. Maybe a friend made you clutch your sides till you shook with glee, maybe an old episode of 'Fraiser' had you howling on the carpet. Either way: in that moment you were immortal. and that, my friend, is as sacred as it gets."
Charlie Brooker, 'The Atheist's Guide to Christmas'
