Tim Harding's comedy diary

Reviewer Tim Harding gives a rundown of the comedy he's been watching in London in the last two weeks.

Despite the way he portrays himself in The Trip and the way he’s sometimes been characterised in the press, I’ve never felt Steve Coogan to be an egotistical performer, possibly because he submerges himself so fully in (some of) his characters that the Coogan ego disappears completely from view. 

Alan Partridge belongs to that extremely rare class of fictional characters who function like tulpas: more real and fully rounded beings than the beings who created them, like Kermit the Frog obviously, and pretty much no one else.

Peter Sellers, who memorably said ‘there used to be a me behind the mask, but I had it surgically removed,’ similarly sometimes gave the impression of being an empty vessel for a visiting consciousness, never more so than in Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove, where he pulled off probably the greatest multi-role performance of all time: three characters who are all totally hysterical and totally distinct, and who balance the film perfectly between each other. 

It helps that that movie is divinely inspired. If you haven’t seen it for a while, throw it on – more than any other film comedy it pulls off the magic trick of remaining just as funny now as it was 60 years ago.

It must have been a quick meeting when Armando Iannucci suggested a stage adaptation of the film with Coogan playing all three Sellers roles as well as Slim Pickens’ character Major Kong – perhaps too quick. 

There should be a word for adaptations that don’t really adapt. The West End is full of such shows right now that simply transfer IP gingerly from one format to another like a precious Ming vase, preserving the vast majority of the original script and doing their best to replicate performances, sets, settings etc. Perhaps it’s a symptom of fan culture and the fear of deviation from the established precedent – the courage to make a genuine reimagining of a source text has fallen away.

Interestingly, the new lines include a couple of groaners gesturing at Trump, making you wonder if Iannucci ever considered updating the setting. Strangelove as a story would work perfectly in the context of the modern-day presidency, and Iannucci has a proven facility with contemporary politics. Too on-the-nose, maybe.

Instead, what we get is an acceptable karaoke version of an all-time classic. Coogan is able and entertaining, but doesn’t find much new ground in Mandrake, Kong or Strangelove, and the medium works against him. 

He’s shackled by the ghost of Sellers’ standard-setting, and the distance from the audience that means you can only see his broad gesticulations. His President Merkin Muffley feels distinct in that he has a little more control of the room, but it’s not the most thrilling development of the character. Special mention should go to Giles Terera and John Hopkins who really work as Generals Turgidson and Ripper respectively.

With a zingy, approachable tone, a certain Broadway slickness (there’s even a ‘Who’s On First’-style routine added) and an obedient fidelity to the original script, it’s unlikely to upset anyone, but part of Strangelove’s enduring power is in its originality, and there’s none of that here.

On a much smaller scale, back at the Bill Murray, Janine Harouni was running through an early work-in-progress show for next year. 

While her very successful debut Stand-Up (Please Remain Seated) never quite lit my fire, I have to say she’s really growing on me as one of those comics who’s so warm and charming that it’s a pleasure just to check in with them and see what’s been going on in their lives recently. 

For Harouni, the answer is that she’s now had the baby which was gestating during her last show Man’oushe, and while she’s clearly struggling in the same way as all new parents do, she’s already successfully converting the experience into another silky smooth set of comic observations. 

Her cultural identity and her affection for her family still play a major role in her material, all the more effectively now that it’s become context rather than text. She’s really hitting her stride right now.

Finally, and also at the Bill Murray, Andy Barr has been a figure of some fascination for me since I caught his character comedy show An Audience With Alastair Bridge, which memorably ended with Barr being suddenly executed live on stage by a hitman embedded in the audience. 

The new show is the first he’s performing as himself, and it’s been brewing for a while, changing shape in some quite drastic ways. Initially a show about coming to terms with the death of a close friend, Barr had to rethink his thematic thrust when he realised he was ‘over it’ and has created an hour of silly despair that wrestles with greater, more nebulous fears and sorrows.

His persona is marvellously fully-formed. Sozzled, louche and depressed, he presents as a man out of time, a refugee from the 1970s who’s dealing with the existential threats of 2024 with a bit of old-school alcoholism and shaggy dog routines about the power of apples to keep doctors away. A bit like classic Johnny Vegas, he feels like he’s about to spin out of control at any moment, and the effect is magnetic.

The drinking conveniently serves the persona, but the three pints (and, to be fair, the six apples) he has on stage are very real. His compelling and very funny slow trainwreck of a stage presence would be obvious whether he was drinking or not, but the booze gives it a discomfiting realness.

Finally finally, I wanted to give a quick shout-out to Bangmouth Village, a new micro-soap spoof on YouTube by Rob Carter, writing and performing in character as Christopher Bliss, the world’s worst novelist. 

It came to a shocking conclusion yesterday after a combined airtime of nine minutes, all of which I’ve enjoyed immensely. Bliss stars as the village bad boy, just released from prison and back in town for some adultery and hard drugs. 

This is everything I want out of a YouTube comedy series: extreme silliness, monster gag rate and tiny little episodes with space for talented comics like Ed Easton and Harriet Kemsley to get as goofy as they want. It feels like a welcome throwback to the rat-a-tat nonsense of Airplane and Naked Gun.

Published: 23 Nov 2024