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.
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!
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.
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!
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.
