Tuesday, 5 March 2013

New - Thames Ditton - 28 Feb 2013


A brand new gig report. See what happens when you mix alcohol, comedy, Thames Ditton and Body Warmers.
Gig Report Thursday 28th February 2013

Thames Ditton


Prelude
Why is there not more violence in stand up comedy? Why do more
comedians not get hit? I have often pondered this question. Imagine
the routine of the stand-up comedian transferred into everyday
conversation. The overbearing opinions, the unprovoked insults, the
sheer arrogance of thinking they have anything worth listening to. Can
you imagine this behaviour being tolerated in real life? The
perpetrator wouldn’t escape unscathed. But shift the same behaviour
onto a stage and suddenly it becomes acceptable. I am genuinely
surprised more comedians don’t get lamped.  I marvel at the restraint
of the British public.  Comedians believe – and I include myself in
this – that the stage affords some kind of diplomatic immunity. So
when a punter steps upon stage and breaks its magical powers of
protection then it seems all the more shocking.

That said when violence does come to the stage it always seems
unjustified and bizarrely out of the blue.

Before Gig
Tonight I am in Thames Ditton which is technically London but may as
well be the middle of Staffordshire as far as I’m concerned. The
audience, I am told, are middle class. But what does middle class
mean? Civilised? Pruddish? Subdued? Rich? Educated? Cultured?
Uncultured? Obsessed with property prices? Daily Mail reading?
Guardian reading? People who cycle? People who drive gas guzzling
4x4s? Aren’t we all middle class now? What a bloody stupid piece of
non-advice. May as well say “Stephen there are people in tonight.”

But beware appearances can be deceiving ... The promoter regales us
with stories of previous shows gone wrong, where it has all kicked
off, because “there is always one”. I look at the audience and decide
that tonight “there isn’t always one”, nothing is kicking off tonight,
believe me.

There is talk backstage of the audience all being teachers. So they
are not middle class now, they are all teachers. I warn the compere
about teachers. “They are authority figures. They don’t like somebody
else in charge,” he laughs thinking I am joking. I am not joking. The
conversation moves on.

Milo McCabe is compering tonight. He gets the show off to a good start.

There is a man in the front row of the audience,  in his late 60s and
wearing a body warmer. I remember the body warmer very clearly now as
though it was trying to warn me. But that’s hindsight talking. At the
moment it is just a body warmer and we can’t blame the body warmer for
what is about to unfold. He seems like a genial grandfather type. He
may be heckling a little too much but he’s just entering into the
spirit of things. He heckles and the compere puts him down. So he
heckles again to reassert his authority and so is put down again and
so on. He is now trapped in a repetitive loop of heckling, being put
down, heckling. But it doesn’t matter, this is all adding to the mood
and the energy in the room. Things are building nicely, this audience
may be middle class but they are not subdued middle class.

Suddenly the Body Warmer Guy climbs on stage and tries to unplug the
microphone. This is not a good sign. You don’t unplug the microphone.
This is not good. Its seems so out of place with the easy banter, that
I dismiss the evidence of my own eyes. He's back off the stage in his
seat now. Yes, I don’t think it really happened at all. Maybe I
imagined it. More banter. Now he’s back on stage trying to unplug the
microphone again. Why is he doing that? He is clearly enjoying the
banter right? Why would he unplug the microphone if he is so happy?
There is more banter but even the two attempts to unplug the
microphone don’t prepare me for what is about to happen. Suddenly,
apropos of nothing (and I now realise when people say this they mean
apropos of something) the Body Warmer Guy climbs on stage and squares
up to the compere. Body Warmer Guy looks like he is about to hit the
compere. From memory Body Warmer Guy says “I’VE FUCKING WELL HIT JIM
DAVISONSON BEFORE AND I’LL FUCKING WELL DO YOU TOO” and his eyes go
that way people’s eyes go when they’ve lost it. It’s about 50:50 that
he will hit the compere and so we all wait to see what will happen.
The compere towers over the Body Warmer Guy and there is something
comical in the way he draws himself up to his full height. He reminds
me of the American guest in the Waldorf Salad episode of Fawlty
Towers. Nobody intervenes. Body Warmer Guy is sizing him up and he has
his hands at the ready. I really didn’t see this coming. I can’t help
feeling the guy is over reacting.  It teeters on the edge for a moment
and then like the Cold War, it just goes away. Amazingly the violence
doesn’t happen. The moment seems to pass and with hindsight it seems
even more unlikely that it didn’t kick off. Only now does the
narrowness of the miss seem apparent. Somehow Milo McCabe seems to
neutralise the situation, get the guy back in his seat and then start
to deal with the massive tension that now pervades the room. He gets
the audience to sing “Kumbaya”, rebuilds as much atmosphere as he can.

I don’t think Milo could have handled it better. It was expertly
handled.  I keep thinking what would have happened if I had been in
his shoes.  But inevitably my thoughts are turning selfish now. I am
first on. I am about to be brought on stage. How do I deal with this?
Do I just pretend it didn’t happen and leave a big elephant in the
room or do I openly discuss what has just happened and risk spurring
the Body Warmer Guy on to new heights of mania? It will suicidal if I
mention it and if I don't people will say “Why didn’t he address it?”
If I do mention it and it kicks off again they will say “What was he
thinking? mentioning it again” Even as I am brought to the stage I
debating it in my head. I must change my mind three times as I walk to
the microphone….

During Gig
“I’m from Glasgow…”  and that’s it. There is a sustained laughter from
the audience for what seems like a minute. They are rolling in the
aisles (not literally). Obviously I am going on to say, “And I thought
at least I’d be spared the violence in Thames Ditton tonight.” But I
never get to say that. The audience antcipate where I am going and it
is a fait accompli. I don’t need to complete it. I called it right to
mention it. It is a great start. It’s the best start. If only all gigs
could have a near fight before them for me to reference.  But after
that everything seems like an uphill struggle. I can’t work out
whether the audience are still traumatised by “the incident” or
whether they just don’t like my stuff? They do seem rather
conservative and they are not crazy about heroin or gay marriage. At
one point I fall off the stage by accident and that becomes a
highlight of my set. Maybe they audience have become addicted to
incidents or maybe they are the wrong kind of middle class?

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