A Dane, a Swede and a Brit walk into a…
Not a joke, but certainly funny: a Dane, a Swede and a Brit (me) walk into a comedy club. What do Scandinavians think of the British sense of humour? Is there even such a thing as a national sense of humour? And what would my Danish and Swedish friends make of a live comedy gig in London?
words by James Mullighan
Our laboratory for this evening’s social experiment is the Soho Theatre, which usually showcases new writing. On most nights it also hosts a top-flight comedian to do an hour’s material. Our Danish guinea pig is Angelina, who grew up in Copenhagen before moving to London. The slightest witticism sets her laughing like a drain, and she names Mr Bean and Monty Python among her favourites. Our focus group of three is rounded out by another Scandinavian: Kajsa, a bombshell Swede with the kind of wide-grinned laughter that toothpaste company marketers can only dream about.
The humour is provided by the almost rabidly energetic, multi-award-winning, red-haired Irish comic, Jason Byrne. (OK, he’s not actually British, but with more Irish comics living in London than anywhere else, Byrne is representative of the comedy scene here in the capital).
Jason Byrne’s website advertises his act thus: “Expertly crafted comedy set pieces fuse explosively with incendiary freestyle riffs to always produce fire-cracking results.” All that cordite-flavoured metaphor notwithstanding, the mix of prepared material and audience interaction is key with Byrne. He does write jokes, usually observational ones from his own experiences. His story about his own son looking at mummy’s very pregnant belly and predicting the reincarnation of Australian naturalist Steve Irwin is a good example of his bizarre and very personal humour. He also cross-examines his audiences for quirky factoids and trivia, warming them up before starting his material and weaving these tidbits through the rest of the evening. This mix of preparedness and improvisation is at the heart of the British comedy style, so it’s the perfect thing to test out Brit humour on our Danish and Swedish friends.
Over a glass of wine, I ease Angelina and Kajsa’s nerves about this article. You would think I’d told them they had to get up on stage themselves, rather than just watch, laugh, and give their opinions for a magazine article. Kajsa tells me she never goes out to see comedy.
Angelina used to, often going to Frederiksberg’s Comedy Zoo in Copenhagen. She says the Danish and British senses of humour are “really quite similar, often very ridiculous, but the British are more brash”. As we shall see.
Byrne bursts onto the stage and is off. There is a group of fresh-faced ‘posh’ English boys whom he mercilessly teases. Upper-class rich kids. Perfect. An enthusiastic drunk calls out from the audience. Someone heckles from up the back. The audience warms right up, calling out to each other in a good-natured way. Byrne is thrilled; the gig has its own energy now. This is a ‘good audience’. “Do you even need me here?” he shouts, laughing.
Then we’re into Byrne’s own material. Why are English girls easy? Because Protestants “don’t have Jesus scowling down at them”. Why are the British and Irish are both “the same”? They’re all “miserable, hating anyone else’s success – oooh, nice new car, hope you crash it”. He ends with his big closing set piece about his son (which I’ve given away above – sorry).
Afterwards, in the theatre bar, Angelina and Kajsa tear into their commentary task like hungry wolves. The major problem the girls have with Byrne was that he “picked on everyone in the front row”. I counter that bringing in the audience threads the evening together, making the audience feel the gig is just for them. But no, say our Scandinavian friends: it’s just mean, or “brash”, as Angelina puts it. Both Angelina and Kajsa laughed a lot early in the show and less towards the end. But that’s simple comedy fatigue – you can’t laugh uninterrupted for an hour. It hurts.
Kajsa found the gags that dealt with class and race – English vs Irish, rich vs poor – difficult to understand. “Those divides don’t really exist in Sweden,” she explains, “and when you don’t understand the content, you just don’t laugh.”
In the morning I get an email from Kajsa, who is concerned that she’s going to come across as grumpy and humourless (no chance). She really did have a good time, she says, adding: “I do think my fellow Scandi people should visit British comedy clubs for one major reason: it’s a truly English experience and might make them understand a little bit more about these strange people and their strange culture.” Perhaps not exactly how the British tourist board might put it, but a point well made just the same.
where to have a laugh in march + april
The Big Chill House now books comedians for this ultra-groovy DJ/VJ palace (257–259 Pentonville Road, +44 (0)20 7427 2540, www.bigchill.net). Award-winning newcomer Phil Nichol is hosting Old Rope (Mondays 5, 12, 19 and 26 March), where established and new names try out new work. Whenever they are testing out fresh material, they hold a noose.
The boundlessly energetic Nichol is also playing the Amused Moose (17 Greek Street, +44 (0)20 7287 3727, www.amusedmoose.com), on 31 March, as is BBC TV star Ninia Benjamin, on 10 March and 14 April, and the brilliantly caustic, taboo-smashing Scott Capurro, on 21 April. He is also playing the Walkabout (14–16 Putney High Street, +44 (0)20 8789 8560, www.walkabout.eu.com) on 22 March and 21 April and the Red Rose (129 Seven Sisters Road, www.redrosecomedy.co.uk, +44 (0)8700 600 100) on 7 April. Watch the Amused Moose website for last-minute notifications of secret gigs; previous guests have included Eddie Izzard and Ricky Gervais.
The Comedy Store (1a Oxendon Street, +44 (0)870 060 2340,www.thecomedystore.co.uk) is London’s busiest and most famous comedy venue. ‘Borrowing’ from the LA club of the same name (think Richard Pryor, Robin Williams), it was the first London club to host an emerging, edgier breed of comic, and it now attracts big names.
There’s sweaty, anarchic fun to be had at Low Down at The Albany (240 Great Portland Street, +44 (0)20 7387 5706, www.lowdownatthealbany.com), with big names such as Daniel Kitson and Sean Hughes trying out new material. A favourite club/ comedy night there is the slightly crazed monthly Friday-nighter known as Spank.
Jongleurs is a nationwide chain of clubs featuring reliable names, dinner and dancing – and the inevitable hen nights. The best is in Camden (11 East Yard, Camden Lock, +44 (0)870 787 0707,www.jongleurs.com). The Guiness World Record Holder for Longest Running Live Comedy is The NewsRevue, in the on-top-of-a-pub Canal Café Theatre (Delamere Terrace, +44 (0)20 7289 6056, www.canalcafetheatre.com).’
big names starring outside london
In spring the big names are finishing their regional winter tours outside London, while others try out new material for August’s Edinburgh Comedy Festival
28 March Ipswich
Ricky Gervais, co-creator of hit shows The Office and Extras
2 April Cambridge
Russell Brand, the bad boy of British comedy
8 April York
Stand-up and TV actor Bill Bailey uses music in his act
spotting comedians in their natural habitat: bars
It’s thirsty work telling all those jokes, and comedians are often legendary drinkers (not that we’re naming names). Many comedy venues stay open long after the final act and become clubs, but that’s no guarantee that your hero will be propping up the bar: many jobbing comedians do several gigs in a night. Bars and pubs near to comedy clubs or studios where radio shows are recorded can be good places to spot your comedy hero. Good luck.
Try any of the heavy concentration of comedy clubs in Central London’s Soho area, such as the Laughing Horse (at the Coach and Horses pub, 1 Great Marlborough Street). Down the road, the Comedy Pub (7 Oxendon Street) is a good bet. Or for the many Irish comics who live in London, such as Dara O’Briain, Ed Byrne and Dylan Moran, who like their pint of Guinness poured properly, there’s The Toucan (19 Carlisle Street, www.thetoucan.co.uk). The legendary Phoenix Artists Club (1 Phoenix Street, www.phoenixartistsclub.com) sees musicians and West End theatre stars rubbing shoulders. It’s members-only, but security is light.
Other clubs are known star-spotting venues, but you’ll need a friend who’s a member – Stephen Fry’s haunt The Groucho Club (45 Dean Street, www.thegrouchoclub.com) and the famous Soho House (40 Greek Street, www.sohohouse.com) are the best examples. A visit to the public bar at newly refurbished members club Teatro (93– 107 Shaftesbury Avenue, +44 (0)20 7494 3040, www.teatrosoho.co.uk) could mean a chance encounter with some showbiz types.
The Drill Hall (16 Chenies Street, +44 (0)20 7307 5060, www.drillhall.co.uk) is a multi-purpose theatre space where many BBC radio shows are taped. Nearby is the famous Fitzroy Tavern (16 Charlotte Street).
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