Everyone's a Comedian

Last month I made my stand-up comedy debut. As you do.

On arriving in London last April I set myself the challenge of doing stand-up before Christmas. 17th January? Close enough. But why would I do this? Well, funny you should ask.

Growing up the little sister of my two brothers, and with a mother who is quite the kitchen table joker, my wit muscle was exercised from an early age. Since childhood, humour has most definitely been a tool for me – as a mechanism of defense, particularly when I’m nervous, it's also great for connecting with people. But rarely, if ever, do I set out to make people laugh, it just kind of happens, and I often shock myself.

I was always interested in performance, but as I grew older I found the world of acting to be too fake – both on and off stage – and that just wasn't me. I had never considered stand-up comedy as a career option (or any option for that matter), and so I pursued the public service as my profession.

Over the past decade I have found myself drawn more and more to comedy as an outlet, with the rise of the podcast it has grown into a passion, and may be nearing obsession. I’m a big fan if Wil Anderson – more so for his podcast, TOFOP/FOFOP, than his stand-up or variations of Gruen. A big reason for this is that, in his podcasts, he is so genuine and inquisitive, and that he’s able to both open my mind about life and makes me laugh is no mean feat.

As Wil says, comedians are modern day philosophers, and I agree – well, the good ones, anyway. In a nutshell they stand up and point out all the not-so-great things in the world but do so with laughter, not put us in a state of fear, which seems to be the modus operandi of the mainstream media.

Russell Brand is another favourite of mine who does this. Perhaps he’s a bit much for some, but I think what the likes of Wil and Russ are doing is genius. Their use of humour, which is so disarming, to make as laugh at ourselves and the systems we all subscribe to while expanding our perspectives is pretty clever in my book.

This all got me thinking about voicing my own views of the world, though not in a way that was serious and self-righteous – people don't respond well to that, but they do respond to humour. I pondered that idea for a good few years, then late 2013 I signed up to an eight week stand-up course with London’s Hoopla.

Nervous at first, the course turned out to be my weekly release during what became a very stressful time. Each week the class had to prepare about three minutes of material, which would culminate into a ‘best of’ set to be showcased at The Miller, an extremely popular pub and performance venue in central London. No pressure!

So each week I got up and voiced the things that were puzzling me, doing so with a humorous spin, without the limitations of political correctness, only to have people laugh along in agreement. What’s not to love about that? As well as that, the course covered various improv games and exercises to get those funny bones firing.

I was most surprised by the fact that material is so readily available – basically, it’s those thoughts we all have on a daily basis but wouldn’t dare dream of saying out loud. Stand-up comedy affords you that dream. And it can be incredibly cathartic as each giggle indicates a person or people who shares in your thoughts or opinions.

Midway through the course a group of my fellow budding comedians and I went to an open mic night – just to watch. Our teacher, Max Dickins, himself a comedian, taught us that watching others trying to be funny will help us realise how good we actually are. He’s right, so very right. We suffered through seventeen acts, all of which had something in common – they were trying to be funny, using multiple one-liners without any flow, but weren’t actually funny. They didn’t share anecdotes or air frustrations, which we had by now learned is what an audience responds to and connects with. The best advice Max gave me was that the audience wants to like you, so let them.

Soon enough, showcase night came around, with thirteen of us making our stand-up debut.

Max, who was also our emcee for the evening, had guided us through the course like a fairy godmother, and reassured us that we were there to have fun. A fellow deputing comedian pointed out that all of our friends were coming to see us for the first time, that they were going to be at their most supportive, and that we were never going to get a room full of this much support ever again. Slightly bummed that she was probably right, it gave me a great deal of comfort in that moment, and in that moment I needed it – I was second on the line up!

The room was so full that we had to give up our seats. Whilst this was a little intimidating, the more people in the room the greater the probability that at least some would find us amusing. The first debutant was brilliant. As I said to her dad afterwards, I could not have picked a better support act (thanks Alice). She set the standard for the evening and that standard was high. Then her five minutes were up and I was on.

The most brilliant thing about the venue was that you could see no further than the front row, so from the stage I was staring into a humming darkness, waiting for my first laugh. And when it comes from the crowd it’s like a wave of calm rolling over you, and it’s amazing – I’ve got this.

I’m not going to go into the details of my set, or anyone else’s for that matter – I couldn’t do them justice in writing. All I will say is that everyone did a great job, and I am so proud of each of us for doing what most people would regard as their biggest fear. I have been to professional comedy gigs where by the end of the night the energy in the room is very low, but not this night. I was honestly amazed by the standard – I think even our fairy godmother was surprised!

The highlight of the evening was actually on the way out, when I overheard someone saying that they really liked ‘that girl on second’. This experience has left me firmly with the view that anyone can be a comic, as long as you are genuine to your own voice and are prepared to fail.

This is a class where, in that room, you forget about all the crap around you that’s getting you down and have a laugh at it instead. So much did I enjoy it that I’m going back for level two!

Max Dickins will be previewing his Edinburgh Comedy Festival show on 23 February in Camden, check out his website for more information. You can also enjoy his shenanigans on his highly acclaimed podcast Dregs.

The next stand up course for Hoopla starts on 24 March or you may also be interested in their improv classes, check their website for details.

Wil Anderson is also on touring various places and shouldn't be missed at this year's Melbourne International Comedy Festival (my face may even be on the poster). For tickets to his MICF show see Ticketmaster. Or you might want to listen to his award winning comedy podcast, TOFOP/FOFOP.

My new addiction is Wil's new podcast Wilosophy, which, while not necessarily funny, is a good listen. The latest episode has Australian muso Ben Lee and is fascinating. If you're a fan of the Gruens you must listen to the first episode.

-Eliza Rose Harper

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Spike Jonze's Her Reviewed

“It’s good to be around someone that’s excited about the world. I forgot that existed.”

Spike Jonze has seen the future and it is very convenient. Her depicts a near-future L.A. that appears to have been annexed by Apple. The digital citizens of this pastel utopia conduct most of their daily activity through virtual space, appear to want for nothing and work at professions that balance creativity with profit, and wear very high pants. The film takes place in an almost insufferably middle-class setting, absent any hint of conflict or deprivation.

Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is introduced reading aloud what appears to be a touching love letter. Then comes the reveal that Theodore writes correspondence for a living, occasionally managing both sides of an intimate conversation between the loved ones who employ him. His computer translates his spoken words into beautiful long-hand writing on a printed page, which is then forwarded on to the addressee. The simple act of letter-writing has become fetishised and transformed into a business transaction.

Lonely following the breakdown of his own marriage, the instinctively empathetic Theodore installs a new form of household Operating System that emotionally anticipates the needs of the user and develops an independent artificial intelligence. It is in this fashion he first ‘meets’ Samantha (Scarlett Johansson), whose infectious enthusiasm for life and can-do attitude helps lift Theodore’s funk. Quickly progressing from organising his work life to encouraging the shy writer to go on blind dates, a genuine friendship soon develops between the two.

Having put in the work establishing just how abstract human relationships have become – there’s an awfully funny anonymous cybersex scene featuring Kristin Wiig – Theodore and Samantha falling for one another feels completely natural. Somehow in grafting his story on to a science fiction setting, Jonze has managed to produce a startlingly insightful conversation about how we communicate with one another, both generally and within relationships.

Theodore and Samantha may seem like an unlikely couple and at first there’s a suspicion that she is merely behaving affectionately towards him due to her programming. However, the film explores just how dynamic this form of artificial intelligence is. Samantha is not only developing as a piece of software, but discovering her own personhood. Part of the charm of the film is showing how the couple get to know each other more and become genuinely intimate – with all the attendant joys and fears that treasured intimacy brings. Samantha’s arc is that she continues to grow not only into the relationship, but as an individual with wants and needs. Theodore, in his own right, is pulled back into the world, having become insulated by his retreat into technology.

His growing acceptance of Samantha as an individual with her own personality, desires and dreams resembles many relationships. The initial attraction based on a pre-existing preference of what a person is looking for in a partner and then the growing intimacy that comes with truly getting to know someone. 

Another sign of how smart a piece of writing this is can be found in the surrounding characters. Chris Pratt - soon to be appearing on the big screen as Marvel’s next superhero Starlord in Guardians of the Galaxy - features as an easy-going and emotionally secure colleague of Theodore’s. Pratt’s performance as Paul is not only wryly humourous, but sweet-natured and accepting of difference. Olivia Wilde’s ‘Blind Date’, however, is far more fragile, terrified of disappointment in her relationships. Amy Adams plays an old friend of Theodore’s who calmly accepts the highs and lows of life with philosophical grace. Courtesy of both the quality of acting, and the natural dialogue, these characters do not feel like stodgy archetypes. There’s a rich degree of observational insight at work here. 

This is also a film that simply looks fantastic. Hoyte Van Hoytema’s cinematography is a wonder, transforming the locations of Shanghai and docklands LA into pristine and richly coloured vistas. Like Michael Winterbottom’s Code 46, or Godard’s Alphaville, this is a stunning example of practical futurism. Very little special effects or green-screen work is in evidence here, besides Theodore’s very funny playtime sessions with a foul-mouthed video-game avatar.

Throw in a soundtrack by Arcade Fire and you have yourself a remarkable multimedia experience.

Her is a film that thrives not only on its performances, courtesy of the intimacy of Phoenix and Johansson’s conversations, but the subtle play of ideas in Jonze’s script. Quite simply one of the most compelling recent films released.

Her is in cinemas from tomorrow - 16 January.

-Emmet O'Cuana

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No Thanks For Sharing

Thanks for Sharing is Director Stuart Blumberg’s Hollywood debut. An ensemble film starring Mark Ruffalo, Gwyneth Paltrow, Tim Robbins, and Alecia Moore (better known as Pink) it's pitched as a ‘dramedy’, or drama-comedy to us lay-folks, about sex addiction. However, Thanks for Sharing never quite manages to achieve either the ‘drama’ or the ‘comedy’ aspects successfully enough to combine the two. Some of the most powerful stories are those that manage to offset utter tragedy with just the right level of humour to hammer home the message - Thanks for Sharing is not an example of this. This film is not what you think it is, judging by the poster anyway.

I had a number of issues with this film, but mostly I was bothered by the superficial way in which the impact of addition on other people is almost entirely glossed over. Take, for example, Mike’s (Robbins) long suffering wife (Joely Richardson) and son (Patrick Fugit). In a passing discussion we learn he has given his wife Hepatitis-C and all too briefly we learn that the reason his son has gone off the deep-end is due to being the constant subject of negativity and rage from a father who is a violent drunk. Nor do we know why Phoebe (Paltrow) refuses to date another addict beyond her statement that it’s all too complicated.

In truth, the film doesn't even consider the real impact addiction can have on the addicts themselves. We don’t really know what Adam (Ruffalo) has been through to get to his five years, although we do briefly see how superficial his sobriety is. But it’s not sobriety so much as it is outright exclusion from modern life in many respects. Continuing with the superficiality, we have no real concept of Dede’s (Moore) experience beyond her introductory statement that without 'another way' she’d end up killing herself. Powerful stuff but it is left hanging. This, unfortunately though, is the only way this film can deal with anything that can’t be pointed and laughed at.

And this is where I have a fundamental problem. Worse than the treatment of those characters already described is the lack of acknowledgement that the character of Neil (Josh Gad), a doctor and someone in a position of power and trust is actually a sexual deviant. He has been up on some sort of charges relating to his ‘addiction’ as he is attending group sessions not voluntarily but because a court ordered him to do so. Given that in some American states you can be put on a sexual predator list for having a wee outdoors, I fail to understand how he is allowed back into the ward at all.

It’s also scary to think that the tapes he destroys later in the film are videos he has shot himself. Of what, and of whom is not actually revealed but the path we are led down is a frightening one. Instead, Neil is played as the misunderstood lovable rogue, with no consideration of the impacts on those whom he has violated for his own gratification either on public transport, as patients or as colleagues. And I'm sorry, but he’s not going to go from a chronic up-skirting habit to burning tapes and singing Kum-ba-ya in what, thirty days?

It’s really not clear what the film is trying to achieve with the character of Phoebe. Her obsessions are obviously intended to present a contrast to Adam's, with Phoebe’s presented as eccentric, quirky and a bit weird while Adam’s are apparently beyond his own control. Here’s the thing though, Phoebe’s preoccupation with health, fitness and food appear to be motivated by an actual disease, being cancer, while Adam’s constant referral to his own obsession as a 'disease' presents a degree of self-righteousness and arrogance in the character, almost a sense of my suffering is worse than your suffering, which eventually comes to undermine their relationship.

Competent casting means that there is nothing wrong with the performances. Ruffalo plays his Adam as charming for the most part, until he adopts the victim mentality and we see glimpses of a potential arsehole. Robbins delivers some absolute clangers with conviction, however in an effort to be perpetually Zen his character is one dimensional in situations where you’d think he’d be far more multifaceted. The rest of the cast is equally competent but restrained. On the whole the film and its characters suffer from this idea that the middle classes cannot be anything other than one emotion, all of the time, and plays this as being normal.

And thoroughly middle class this film is. Even Pink’s ‘alternative’ character has a day job in a hipster hair salon. It deals with none of the underlying causes of addiction, nor does it look into the consequences of addiction in any meaningful way. But then how could a dramedy, really? All you need to know is that middle class life is hard.

Thanks for Sharing is in cinemas October 3.

-Stevie O'C

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R.I.P.D. Off

R.I.P.D. (Rest In Peace Department) or ‘Men in Black from beyond the grave’ is based on a graphic novel of the same name, which I'd never heard of before the movie. Nowadays whenever someone tells me ‘hey, it's based on a graphic novel’, it’s with some trepidation that I go along, and I almost always leave the theatre of the opinion that it should have stayed a graphic novel.

Look, it isn't all crap. The internal consistency of the R.I.P.D. world is solid, the acting is ok, and there are a couple of neat action scenes. But that's all the nice it's gonna get from me.

Here’s the low down: Some time in the past, Nick Walker (Ryan Reynolds) and partner Bobby Hayes (Kevin Bacon) stumbled upon some gold during a drug bust and split the findings. Walker is now apprehensive and wants to turn it in. While on a raid, Hayes corners Walker, reveals that he can't let him handover the gold, and kills him.

On his way to eternal judgement, Walker is yanked from his ascension and given a job tracking down ‘Deados’ (spirits that somehow slipped through the system and continue to walk the Earth avoiding judgement) to arrest them for processing. He is partnered with a cranky old Marshall from the 1800s who prefers to work alone (Jeff Bridges). The two must track down and arrest rogue Deados while disguised as a senile Asian man and a hooker, which is played for a few cheap laughs that quickly wear thin.

Deados look like any average human, but are really just bad CGI in disguise, which, when they get a whiff of curry powder, go all Jar-Jar Binks and gimmick out for your 3D viewing pleasure.

What begins as an interesting premise quickly degenerates into a film that's confused about how to shoe-horn adult themes, like drug busts, death and rampaging destruction, into kid-friendly Disney-esque slapstick. It plays on so many conventions you can almost hear the committee decisions that went into every scene. Hero had a wife he loved? Boo-hoo. His ex-partner turns out to be the Big Bad? Surprise. Cops are taken off the case only to disobey a direct order and solve it anyway? I now believe lazy film-makers do this just to fast-track a resolution.

What actually bugs me the most about R.I.P.D., though, is the CGI. It is a real step back in technique and technology. The design of the Deados makes no sense and when one has been revealed it isn't so much scary as annoyingly stupid. They are lumbering buffoons, not fear-inducing zombie thugs, which is what I think they were going for.

If you do inflict this film on yourself, you'll walk out wondering wha..? Huh? I... no... wha..?

You have been warned.

R.I.P.D is currently in cinemas.

-Paul Caggegi

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Blue Jasmine: A Review

To be honest, had I known Blue Jasmine was a Woody Allen film I probably wouldn’t have gone along to see it. I haven’t switched on an Allen film since the first ten or so minutes of 2005’s Match Point, so it would have been with extreme trepidation that I’d have given another a go with fair warning.

Funnily enough, Blue Jasmine is the quintessential Allen film, which I still hadn’t cottoned onto until after the film, when I had to be told and it came as a bit of an ‘aha’ moment. But it’s Allen at his best, and is more akin to his 1970s/80s work than anything more recent.

Cate Blanchett plays Jasmine, who was married to Hal (Alec Baldwin) until his investments and her marriage went belly up and she lost everything. This sees her land on her sister Ginger’s (Sally Hawkins) doorstep with her Louis Vuitton cases piled high but utterly broke and quite mad. Through a series of flashbacks the sorry tale that is the collapse of Jasmine’s marriage and her mind is revealed.

Having never been to either, I’m pretty sure Allen’s San Francisco is more New York than it is San Fran. That aside, the story is one based on a certain kind of voyeurism that compels us to bear witness to the progressive downfall of someone we all hope is kind of deserving of their own fate. It’s watching the fall from grace of someone who is predominantly unsympathetic and unlikeable, but an accurate characterisation of The Real Housewives of [insert random American metropolis here]. I hate her, but I desperately want to see what happens to her, and secretly want it to all go very, very wrong.

The film is skilfully acted, with Blanchett an absolute stand out in a very theatrical portrayal of a woman unable to come to terms with the loss of the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed, or that of her own mind. Hawkins portrayal of the sister left behind is genuine, even when she’s doing what she can to help her sister despite the damage Jasmine has previously caused her – because that’s what family does. The dynamic between the two sisters, who have been separately adopted from different biological families, makes for interesting motivation, especially given the circumstances in which they find themselves, and Allen handles it well. 

Bobby Cannavale as Ginger’s boyfriend, Andrew Dice Clay as Ginger’s former husband, Peter Sarsgaard as Jasmine’s potential new suitor, and Louis C.K. as Ginger’s momentary lapse in judgement all offer up strong support.

Blue Jasmine is in cinemas from September 12.

-Stevie O'C

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