Wicked game - interview with Jo Caulfield

FEISTY comedian JO CAULFIELD is on the road with her Better The Devil You Know tour, and coming to Arlington Arts on Friday, November 1. CATRIONA REEVES gets her to pull in at a service station in the West Country to talk about why she still loves a live audience.

CATRIONA REEVES: Right - this is only going to get in the paper a couple of days before your Newbury date: we need to sell the show quickly. You can start persuading our readers.... now.

JO CAULFIELD: My husband and I recently celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary - we’d got married in New York because we just wanted a holiday, and didn’t want to pay for other people to have a good time. I was talking to someone else who had also got married over there, and they mentioned the hassle of completing all the paperwork to register the marriage when they got back. Now, we never did that, so I started to wonder if we were actually legally married at all.

That got me thinking about what it would be like to be single, and after 10 years it seemed a good time to have an appraisal of my marriage - focussing on him, of course, not me as I’m perfect. Obviously, after so long together, I’ve pretty much got him  behaving as I want him to, but there’s some traits that can’t be changed, and I had to decide if it’s “better the devil you know”, compared to the single life, which to be honest, looks rather exhausting. I don’t think I’ve got the energy for that.

The show seems to strike a chord with a lot of couples - men come up after  the show and say that it explains so much, and women ask if I’ve been following their husbands with a camera. It’s really interesting talking to couples during and after the show, particularly those who have been married a really long time. It seems that after 40 years or so, the men give up and do what they’re told, so it looks like they can be tamed... eventually.

It’s great to have couples in the audience who are prepared to offer themselves up for sacrifice, but singles are also very welcome, as it’s a good reminder that they’re not really missing much by not being in a relationship.

CR: You’ve had a healthy career away from the world of stand up, not least as a comedy writer. The lure of the road must be strong for you to go on tour again.

JC: My time as a writer for the likes of Graham Norton taught me a lot about writing jokes. When you’re live on stage, and you’re coming up to a new joke, the test is whether you tell it or back out - if that happens, you know it’s not that good. It’s different on television, where it needs to be decided beforehand if the joke is worth telling. Graham is excellent at that - he says “I’m not hearing laughter, I’m hearing smiles...”.

But stand-up comedy is something you can’t take a break from for too long if you want to return to it. It’s easy to get rusty, so you have to keep on at it, and you can’t do that if you’re busy writing for someone else. So I’ve made the decision to start writing mainly for myself again now. I really enjoy touring. It doesn’t suit everyone, certainly not all women - but then there’s lots of male comedians that it doesn’t suit either.

CR: The Times described your show as “like a sociology textbook, but with jokes”. Were you chuffed with that?

JC: It made me sound very clever! I wouldn’t say that the show has an intentional message as such, bu if you’re talking about day-to-day life, it does in itself become a social commentary. It’s not so much my aim, as a happy outcome. But people come up to me after the show and tell me that they really relate to it, which is lovely, as it means that I’m on the right track.

* Tickets for Jo Caulfield at Arlington Arts on Friday, November 1, cost £13, available from www. arlingtonarts.co.uk or 01635 244246.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, October 31, 2013

You've got male - an interview (of sorts) with Stewart Francis

Last autumn, I was asked if I would like to do an email interview with comedian Stewart Francis, ahead of his tour. For some reason, I never got round to knocking it into a publishable format for the Newbury Weekly News, so here it is in a semi-publishable format instead.  

Catriona Reeves: How would you persuade people to come and see your live show and what can people expect?

Stewart Francis: I would persuade people to go by telling them that Michael McIntyre was performing. They can expect to see me performing.

CR: You're a native Canadian - what do you miss about your homeland, and what do you like about living in the UK?

SF: I miss having my inhaler. I like the number of asthma clinics the UK has. 

CR: Have you always been a one-liner comedian, or have you tried other types of stand-up?

SF: Yes, no.

CR: Do you have any special tips or tricks for committing your jokes to memory for your live shows?

SF: Not really, I've just always had a great memory. I probably get that from my ah, um...  

CR: You often pop up on the telly - do you enjoy doing the panel shows?

SF: I don't enjoy doing panel shows because the other comedians always interrupt me which I find (SORRY TO INTERRUPT EVERYONE, DARA O BRIAIN HERE, JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT TICKETS FOR MY TOUR CRAIC DEALER ARE AVAILABLE AT TICKETMASTER.CO.UK) irritating.

CR: Which are your all-time favourite jokes (yours, or other peoples)?

SF: I'm not a fan of my jokes but one of my all-time favourite's would have to be Tommy Cooper's: " I was cleaning up the attic last week for the wife... filthy dirty, covered in cobwebs...

...But she's good with the kids".

CR: Anything else that you think the readers of the Newbury Weekly News should know about you?

SF: They should know that I look forward to both of them being at the Reading show.

The tour that Stewart was promoting has now long gone, but luckily he's back on the road this autumn with The Lumberjacks - aka himself and fellow Canadians Craig Campbell and Glenn Wool. It doesn't look like he's coming to Reading.

The least-worst he could be - review of Robin Ince

Robin Ince: The Importance of Being Interested, at Arlington Arts, Newbury, on Saturday, April 27, 2013

PROFESSOR Brian Cox can be credited for many things that are good in the world, but his one achievement for which I give him eternal thanks is his transformation through enlightenment of Robin Ince from workaday observational comedian into comedyland’s biggest science enthusiast. It was Ince’s meeting and subsequent friendship with Cox that called time on his pointing out of the small things and to begin looking at the bigger picture with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of an informed layperson.

Of course, as he pointed out, the problem with looking at universal truths is that they highlight the ultimate futility of individual existence (Ince is a self-defined “liberal atheist”); however, fortunately there is plenty of satisfaction to be gained on our pointless plod through life from the jaw-dropping oddities of nature (“not the best possible design they could be, but the least-worst”) to two of the most excellent and inquisitive minds that mankind has produced: Charles Darwin and Richard Feynman.

Even Darwin’s very being, argues Ince, is proof against the concept of intelligent design - his bulbous nose nearly lost him his berth on The Beagle, as the captain was concerned that it suggested a weak constitution. Eventually he relented, and according to Darwin was “afterwards well-satisfied that my nose had spoken falsely”.

But it was not Darwin’s nose but his fascination with the humblest details of nature that has made his legacy so important. Thinking about it, Darwin would have been an excellent observational comedian: “Have you ever noticed that the earthworm eat their own bodyweight in soil every day?”.

Ince is so very interested in the world that the original running time of the show was four hours (the thought of most ultra-long shows, often performed by rock legends or Ken Dodd, fill me with horror, but I genuinely think that I could cope with four hours of Ince, if regular toilet breaks were allowed). Rather delightfully, although he’s pared it down considerably, he’s kept the discarded slides in his Powerpoint presentation, resulting in tantalising glimpses of other themes on which he would be able to propound at length given the opportunity.

Talking of which, the enormous projection screen at Arlington played its part wonderfully in illustrating Ince’s thoughts; although it will be a long time before I can get the image of a naked Richard Dawkins (represented in a caricature based on The Creation of Adam) out of my mind. But remember: the human male may not be the best possible design, but  it is the least-worst. 

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, May 9, 2013

Geek love - review of Matt Parker

Matt Parker: The Number Ninja, at New Greenham Arts, Greenham on Saturday, March 9

IT is the sign of the high level of nerdiness and geekery that my plus-one for mathematician Matt Parker’s first solo stand up comedy/maths show wore a “Klein bottle” hat, knitted from a pattern created by Parker’s mum to his specifications. For those who need a reminder, the Klein bottle is a non-orientable two-dimensional manifold; like a Mobius strip without surface boundaries. And it makes a surprisingly wearable hat.

Parker is a former maths teacher and current academic who led the way with the whole science + laughter = massive fun formula when he combined his day job with his evening semi-pro career in stand-up comedy. Although his live shows, and appearances on Radio 4’s Infinite Monkey Cage do appeal to self-styled nerds whose brains are very nearly too enormous to be housed by a Klein bottle hat, his clear and enthusiastic insights into the weirder side of maths are accessible to nearly all.

The show was a gathering of maths with the wow-factor, such as the amazing and unexpected shapes created by cutting Mobius strips in half, how the heptagrin is the perfect shape for a pizza slice (it also makes a fab skirt),  the non-transitive Grime dice, which will always beat (or lose) to each other, and hefty use of  self-referential meta-ness.

He also shone a light on the concept of coincidence, proving how there is nothing that coincidental about a couple discovering that they were unintentionally captured in the same photograph in a random location as children (although it is still pretty spooky - and I know a married couple it happened to); and how the triangulation of leylines between Stone Age monuments works as well with those ancient temples of consumerism known as “Woolworths”.

The only part of the show where I completely lost my way was during Parker’s explanation of the application of the largest number that has every been put to applied use in human history. Parker used the X Factor as a way of explaining it, but it was still too enormous a concept for me to grasp, with Parker speeding up with his extrapolation as the number got larger and larger; stopping, thankfully, just before my head actually exploded. 

During the interval I heard a group of audience members commenting that it wasn’t “so much comedy as [Parker] pointing out things”. When I put that to him after the show, Parker retorted “well, that’s what Michael McIntyre does...” I think out of the two, if I’m going to have stuff pointed out to me, I’d prefer it to have meaning. But don’t just take my word for it. Carry out your own research, and review the evidence. If we all welcome a little bit more maths into our lives, things can only get meta...

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on March 14, 2013

Back in town - review of Mark Steel

Mark Steel’s In Town, at Arlington Arts, Snelsmore, on Thursday, March 7

I REALISE that I’ve unintentionally broken my “no reviewing the same act within two years” in covering Mark Steel’s In Town show again (although technically I’m just OK, as he last visited Newbury on February 2011), but he’s such good fun that I couldn’t resist a return trip.

Anyway, although the basic premise is the same - Steel does a bit of reading up on the more quirky history of an area before pitching up in a town and sharing his findings - two further years of touring with ...In Town (as well as three Radio 4 series based on it, with a fourth on the way) have provided lots more glorious anecdotes about his favourite findings.

And so, we we were treated to his thoughts on Basingstoke (“I walked out of the station and into the shopping mall to try and find the town centre... and came out of the other side”), an insight into the life of the long suffering real-life residents of Miss Hoolie’s cottage in Tobermory (aka Balamory in the CBeebies series), and an audience member in Skipton, Yorkshire, describing nearby Keighley as “ sink of evil”.

Steel appears to have a genuine affection for Newbury and its surrounding countryside (particularly the swans), and while none of his discovered facts about the town were revelatory - and indeed I fear that we as the audience may have mislead him into believing that we have an innate rivalry with Wantage, when of course everyone knows our natural foes are Basingstoke - they were told with a fondness that suggests that he may not know a lot about us, but he can see beyond the generic image of Newbury as Vodatown.

From the Walsall hippo (an underwhelming but much-loved town centre statue) to the tall tales of the fishermen of Penzance, Steel wants people to celebrate the quirks of their hometown, whether they are there by birth or circumstances. As most high streets become identical (“the H&M, the Woolworths that’s now a pound shop, the closing-down HMV”), he urged us to look round the corners - quite literally in the case of Newbury, where a turn into Marsh Lane reveals the magnificent Tudor facade of Jack of Newbury’s house, and a trip down to the canal just steps from Northbrook Street takes you into the territory of Steel’s beloved swans.

In the words of a spoof radio tourist advert sent to Steel and played at the start of the second half, where else can you sunbathe in the park and watch the cars passing on the main road just yards away? Newbury - let’s all learn to love it. It’s what Steel would want.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on March 14, 2013

Tougher than Afghanistan - review of Paul Tonkinson

Paul Tonkinson at The Corn Exchange, Newbury on Saturday, February 16, 2013

IT is the mark of an excellent comedian that they can take a gig which is going down a bit of a strange route - with a “contrary” audience who aren’t so much heckling as auditioning the act - and turn it to their advantage. I’m not sure that Paul Tonkinson managed to perform much of his planned routine (one joke, about Northern Rock, was completely abandoned), but I doubt that anyone felt short-changed by his performance, which saw him bouncing off the audience like a raver in an Ibizan superclub.

A rather relevant simile, as it happens, as Tonkinson disclosed (in a planned part of the show) that he is a former raver who has loved-up flash backs to a more hedonistic time whenever he hears a dance tune from that era - even if it’s in a supermarket. But Tonkinson is no addled E-casualty; he’s now the father of three rising teens, who diss him at every opportunity, and who now gets his buzz from buying a butter dish. 

Respect also needs to go to his wife for putting up with being a central part of his act, with her randy return home from a girls’ night out being re-enacted in a toe curling manner. Sex formed a largish part of Tonkinson’s set, but not in an overly blue manner - it was more about the cosy home comforts of pipe-and-slippers relations arising from a 17-year marriage.

Although Tonkinson has been on the stand-up comedy circuit for some 20 years, and won prestigious Time Out comedy awards early in his career, this is his first solo tour.  It may well be extended experience of the UK’s cut-throat comedy clubs and lack of crowd worship as a comedy god, that enabled him to respond so well to a potentially difficult audience. He laughed self-depracatingly at his low public profile, being mistaken for cyclist Bradley Wiggins being the nearest he gets to celebrity.

A regular entertainer of British troops abroad, Tonkinson described The Corn Exchange crowd as “tougher than Afghanistan”, but you could tell that actually this was exactly the sort of crowd that he likes to work with. I think we should clear one thing up for him though - after a palpable outcry from the audience, I fear that he left Newbury under the impression that Slough is not in the Royal County. Paul: Slough is in Berkshire. We just like to pretend that it isn’t.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, February 21, 2013

Spice of life - interview with Hardeep Singh Kohli

TV presenter HARDEEP SINGH KOHLI is celebrating the British love for curry and attempting to track down the best curry house in Britain as he delivers his Indian Takeaway around the UK. CATRIONA REEVES discovers his recipe for  cooking and comedy.

CATRIONA REEVES: Your Indian Takeaway stage show involves a nightly taste-off between a curry that you’ve prepared on stage and one delivered by a local curry restaurant suggested by the audience. Which dish usually gets the thumbs-up?

HARDEEP SINGH KOHLI: The idea of the taste-off is to show the difference in ingredients and style. British-Indian food is incredible, but it’s not what I grew up eating in a Punjabi household; what my mum and gran cooked at home. When I come to a town, we want people to suggest their favourite curry house; somewhere where they eat regularly, and get someone to actually ring up and make their usually order, so they can compare a takeaway they love with the curry that I’ve cooked.

CR: You’ve been taking your live shows on the road and to Edinburgh for about three years - how did come up with the idea of combining cooking and comedy?

HSK: I’m quite good at cooking and quite funny, but not good enough at either on its own - so if one falls down, the other fills the gaps. I’m not a stand-up comic, I’m a raconteur. The stories I tell while I’m cooking are about my love of food, my years of being a waiter, and the culture clash of growing up as a Scottish Indian.

I was runner-up on the first Celebrity Masterchef series in 2006, and after that, I presented quite a few food programmes, and wrote a book, also called Indian Takeaway, before putting on my first show at the Edinburgh Fringe, four or five years ago. I’ve been doing the current show for about a year, and it’s such good fun.

CR: Which is the best curry house that you have discovered through doing this show?

HSK: There’s a  particularly cracking restaurant in Leicester. The audiences there are particularly well versed in good food. I think it’s important for this show that it’s local people that are suggesting the restaurants we order from, so we are really getting the best example of Indian takeaways in that town.

CR: What dish do you cook on stage during the show?

HSK: My recipes change every night, to keep it fresh for me. One of my favourites is lamb curry in black pepper. Pepper provides a different sort of heat - it will make you sweat a bit, but it’s not mental. And because I’m North Indian, I always defer to bread rather than rice to accompany a curry.

CR: Lastly - being from Scotland, do you have a recipe for haggis curry?

HSK: Yes I do. Haggis, tatties and neeps curry. That’s the great thing about curry - everything goes in together, so it saves on the washing up.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on February 14, 2013

Hairs on your chest - review of Chris Addison

CHRIS ADDISON at The Corn Exchange, Newbury on Thursday, February 7, 2013

THERE’S something about Chris Addison that brings out my maternal side (yes offspring, I do have one. Stop sniggering). It’s the angelic face that belies his 41 years that does it, I think. I hope he’s eating well on tour, as he is very slim - although my sister pointed out that his television appearances mainly involve him wearing a suit (as special advisor Ollie Reeder in The Thick Of It) or behind a desk (on Mock The Week), so that is probably his default shape.

I think I may have to send him a tonic to build himself up. He doesn’t need one to put hairs on his chest, that’s for sure. The unexpected combination of cherubic visage and hairs peeking out through his loose top shirt button hasn’t escaped my attention.

But I didn’t just come here to deconstruct Addison’s appearance. I did tear my eyes away from his chest for long enough to focus on the show that has bought him back to Newbury to sell out The Corn Exchange. Called The Time Is Now Again, it follows on from his previous show, The Time Is Now (bet you couldn’t have guessed that) in its scathing look at modern society - but this time it’s political.

Addison’s bon mots fire cross-party, but it was mainly the Tories that got it in the neck, which didn’t go down with gales of laughter from the entire auditorium; however, Addison is aware that his core audience are savvy Radio 4 listeners, so hey - he probably reckons they can take it, even if they don’t agree entirely with the sentiment.

Anyway, that sort of fits in with the main theme of Addison’s show, which was the idea that most people decide what their core beliefs are at a young age - political stance, opinion on the Royal Family and so on - and then chose to absorb the media messages which reflect these, without ever reassessing them.

Addison constantly carries out such introspection himself; as a self-styled “semi celebrity”, he is aware that his decisions are judged, as reflected in his sign-off alluding to his starring role in insurance adverts. Fingers in other pies may be why he threatened that this could be his last stand-up tour; while quite likely that this was a joke, it would be a shame if true.

Addison is an accomplished stand-up whose circuitous tales create an off the cuff feel to a show which must in fact have been pretty well polished over the past 15 months that he has toured it. As long as he continues keeping his top button undone, I will be happy to continue seeing him windmill around the stage for a long time to come.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on February 14, 2013

Lemon-aid - interview with Katherine Ryan

FINDING the sweet centre in life’s bitterest moments, Canadian comedian KATHERINE RYAN has embarked her first solo tour. She tells CATRIONA REEVES why it’s better to be a smiler than a winger.

CATRIONA REEVES: You’re on telly quite a bit - both on comedy panel shows and as an actress - how are you feeling about going it alone on tour? 

KATHERINE RYAN: I’ve opened for others on tour in the past, including [fellow Canadian] Stewart Francis, and have done two Edinburgh shows of my own. For this tour, I’ve taken the best bits of my Edinburgh shows and added some new material. This definitely feels different - I’m a bit nervous, but really excited.

I’ve been really lucky with the telly stuff. The heart of stand-up comedy is on the road, but TV gets people to come to your shows. I used to do shows where six people turned up, and live comedy does need an audience.

CR: How would you describe your comedy?

KR: My material is a bit quirky - I see myself as a bit of a misfit, and other misfits seem to commiserate with me. I’ve been asked if what I do is as a character, because I come across as a big sunshiny person on stage, but really it’s just an amplification of who I am now.

My comedy voice has got stronger as I’ve got older, and now I’m super comfortable with who I am. I’ve been in the UK for five years, and I’m a mum now, and that’s all added to who I am on stage.

Earlier on in my career, I’d go to auditions for TV panel shows and look around the room, and everyone would seem very different from me. I tried to adapt, to be more like them, but what I really needed to be doing was to be myself.

As I’ve grown more confident with that, I’ve been more successful, and now I notice the different when I watch old videos of my performance - it’s the same voice, but not as strong.

CR: How do you find being a female comic on the male-dominated stand up circuit?

The TV shows are probably an accurate representation of the circuit, where the ratio of male to female stand-ups is about 10 to one, although that is changing. The film Bridesmaids seems to have had an impact, and more younger girls are emerging. 

There’s lots of female comedy role models already out there though - Miranda Hart, Jo Brand, and the writer Caitlin Moran - it’s not just about one type of comedy. It’s all about finding your own voice.

CR: What inspired you to become a stand-up comedian?

KR: I actually studied urban planning at university, but when I moved to Toronto, which is like the London of Canada, I knew that I wanted to work in entertainment. I tried presenting, and a bit of acting, but I didn’t feel like I fitted in. I like the power and control that being a stand-up gives me. I get  to write my own material, hopefully saying something with a bit of purpose and making people think.

I’ve never been very good at working in groups; I like that as a stand-up, I’m entirely responsible for what I do.

CR: You say that your show, Nature’s Candy, aims to find the delicious and hilarious side to life’s blacker moments. You seem so cheery - has anything ever threatened to bring you down?

KR: I’ve been through a lot in the last couple of years; I split up with my daughter’s father and  it wasn’t an amicable split - it was nasty. I’ve had health issues; and I’m a single mum in a foreign country. But I’m not a winger, and I like to find the positive in things, so the show basically celebrates that.

I’m a big fan of pop culture, so there’s a lot of that in there - Hollywood relationships and gossip magazine stuff. I like to laugh at it, but not in a mean way.

My comedy has been described as having dark edges, and that seems about right to me. I think it’s possible to find reasons to smile, but still have bite.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on February 7, 2013

Noises off - review of Sean Hughes

Sean Hughes: Life Becomes Noises, at Arlington Arts, Snelsmore, on Saturday, November 17

IF ever a comedian could change the way he is perceived by his audiences, Sean Hughes has succeeded with his current show, Life Becomes Noises. In fact, revisiting my rather snotty review of his rather disastrous 2010 stand-up visit to Newbury (when his selection of a wholly inappropriate local news story to lampoon drew complaints), I could barely believe that this was the same performer.

The catalyst for Hughes' current show - a staged production rather than pure stand-up - was the death of his father last year, inspiring Hughes to dissect his thoughts and feelings regarding his father and their relationship, the manner of his passing, and his own life and mortality.

Hughes said that rather than the show being a cathartic exercise to help him deal with his grief, he wanted it to be his tribute to his father presented in a format - ie comedy - that would have made him proud. 

Possibly not surprisingly though, it was comedy with a very dark edge. Apart from the gallows humour with which the very subject of death is naturally tinged, Hughes did not shy away from presenting his father with the foibles that made him human - a hard drinking gambler whose return from the pub was not always fully welcomed by his family.

And then there was Hughes' introspection into his own sense of being - a man in the image of his father, both physically and in essence of being, there were flashes of his own inner demons, and struggles which may not have yet been fully concluded.

As on his last Newbury appearance, Hughes was sometimes candidly frank with his audience, not just about himself, but regarding issues he has identified with individual audience members. It’s as if the inner voice that says “Sean, don’t say that” is missing - or he’s just really good at ignoring it.

The difference this time round was the manner with which he dealt with these more challenging utterances - more apologetic if he felt he had gone too far, he dealt out gentle high fives and hugs with the acerbic asides. The approach seemed to be about celebrating the failings that make him, and all of us human- and identifying and embracing those “kettle in the garden” moments when our minds go a little off-piste; and we find ourselves standing in the garden, with the kettle in our hands, wondering what we were inending to do with it.

Challenging then, in parts, the show was also life-affirming and emotive as a reminder of mortality and the acceptance of loss - and that we should all tell our dads that we love them while we still can. 

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on November 22, 2012

Piff, paff, puff - review of Piff the Magic Dragon

Piff the Magic Dragon at New Greenham Arts, Newbury on Thursday, November 8, 2012

IS he a magician? Is he a comedian? No... Piff is a dragon. The clue is in the name. Durrr.

He’s a rather grumpy dragon as it happens: emotionally scarred by his ex-wife; a petulant assistant on community service, and a love-hate relationship with sidekick Mr Piffles, an adorable Chihuahua, who gets far more attention than poor beleaguered Piff. And don’t mention his famous older brother - Steve. Sore point, that one.

Piff (real name John Van der Put - that took a bit of Googling to find out) performs magic mainly with two aims - firstly, to snare his very own princess (the dream of all dragons) by submitting an audience member to various fairy tale challenges, and secondly, to subject Mr Piffles to any number of death-inevitable stunts without invalidating his life insurance.

Piff is pretty good at the old magic thing, particularly when it comes to card and close-up tricks - as anyone who saw him attempting (and only just failing) to fool Penn & Teller on their ITV show could testify. He can also make the ever-obliging Mr Piffles disappear, and then resurrect him as a two-dimensional postable version.

But it’s the incongruous combination of his dragon get-up and a deadpan comedic style that makes Piff a little bit special. The children’s entertainer veneer of his act seems to make audience members particularly willing to participate both on stage and off, and even add to the comedy with their own responses to the whimsy. However, this is by no means a children’s act, with Piff having a distinct dark side as he enacts revenge on his ex-wife, and treats both Mr Piffles and stroppy assistant Amy Sunshine with weary disdain.

Piff didn’t find his princess in New Greenham Arts; his quest continues. If you see him on his travels, you’re welcome to give the delightful Mr Piffles a pat on the head - but do give Piff a little tickle under the chin as well. Dragons thrive on the attention. 

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on November 15, 2012

Old Hamilton's game - review of Andy Hamilton

Andy Hamilton at The Corn Exchange, Newbury on Saturday, September 8, 2012

HE’S a little bit taller than Sandi Toksvig - that isn’t saying much; but comedy performer and writer Andy Hamilton has a big personality that effortlessly filled the sold out Corn Exchange with much amusement and pleasure, perfectly targeted at an audience mainly comprising Radio 4 listeners.

Starting with an apology and explanation of why he had to reschedule his Newbury date from May - “I had viral gastro enteritis - I could have done the show, but only if a live feed could be set up from my toilet”, Hamilton’s show was certainly worth the four-month wait.

Possibly best known for playing Satan in his long-running BBC Radio 4 sitcom Old Harry’s Game, Hamilton’s show was entitled Hat of Doom (referring to a hat filled with random topics which he could then talk about during the show), but in person, he is extremely un-satanic, conveying much warmth with his wit.

There was a little bit of audience participation, but nothing too uncomfortable (apart from the inability of anyone in the room willing to attempt an impression of a taser gun being fired - giving Hamilton much amusement at our parochial naivety), some fun and games, a silly song, and a Q &A session (I am kicking myself for forgetting to ask him to do his Dr Elephant voice; the character he plays in Peppa Pig). 

All lovely stuff; that's not to say that a little bit of politics didn’t come into it, but the show wasn’t as overtly topical as those who know Hamilton from various radio and television current affairs panel shows might expect - it was more like a anecdotal performance of the sort of true stories and experiences which inspire his radio and television scriptwriting.

In particular, his musings on family life suggested that he didn’t have to look too far from his own home in the writing of BBC sitcom Outnumbered; with the tale of the little girl who picked up more than grouting tips when playing “builder’s mate”, and a wonderful relaying of an unfortunate experience when he and his wife were faced with an angry hippo in Kenya.

But you can’t keep an acerbic topical wit suppressed entirely, and there were some wonderful, gossipy nuggets thrown in unexpectedly, including a fabulous titbit about Jeffery Archer which I would love to repeat here, but won’t - Hamilton is already in enough trouble with the Cornish for something he said about them on a panel show, so I don’t want to make things worse.

With this being Hamilton’s first ever touring show (I wouldn’t have guessed), he has nearly 40 years as a comedy writer and performer to draw material from; and the random elements mean that it is quite likely that seeing him again could draw out an entirely different set of anecdotes. I am seriously tempted to see him again at The Concert Hall in Reading on September 30 - although that is another show rescheduled from May, there are still tickets available. If you weren’t able to see Hamilton at The Corn Exchange on Saturday, I urge you to go. Especially if you’re a Radio 4 listener.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, September 13, 2012

A woman who wobbles but doesn't fall down - Interview with Francesca Martinez

STAND-UP comedian FRANCESCA MARTINEZ is witty, pithy and a little bit “wobbly” - and she’s on a mission to get people asking “What The *** Is Normal?!” She spoke to CATRIONA REEVES about how she uses comedy to get across a serious point - but why it’s still important to have a laugh.

Catriona Reeves: In creating your show, do you think you’ve come to a conclusion about what is “normal”?

Francesca Martinez: The show is pretty personal; being born “wobbly” [Martinez has mild cerebral palsy] I’ve always had a really intense relationship with “normal”. It particularly haunted me during my teenage years, when I desperately wanted to fit in. 

Eventually, I realised that I’ve never met a “normal” person in my life - where are they?  That realisation changed my life. We are all different, and different is normal. I’m interested in challenging the labels we stick on each other. 

There’s so much pressure on people to fit  in; the media encourages paranoia so we go out and buy stuff  we don’t need. If we were happy and fulfilled, we’d realise that a handbag won’t change our lives. Everyone kind of knows that it’s all rubbish, but it’s hard to resist unless you fully question society’s values. My show is an antidote to that way of thinking.

The best thing in my life is my family. They always told me to think for myself, never considered me disabled, and were never disappointed or in mourning for the “normal child” I “could” have been. But despite that, I began to adapt society’s view of me. Eventually, I realised that I had to make my own mind up. I realised that that I’m not wrong, I’m not disabled - I’m just me.

The nature of standup encouraged me to think differently, because strangers are paying to listen to me - I still can’t get over that; it’s a privilege in a way. I want to leave them with something beyond laughter. That’s why I love comedy - you can say really important things that challenge people and allow them to leave with a more open mind.

CR: If you had the choice, would you rather not be “wobbly”?

FM: That’s an impossible question to answer. It’s more than just a physical thing; it’s like asking if I would want to be someone else. Everything in our lives affects us, and a huge part of my personality has been shaped by being wobbly. So, no - I like who I am and what being wobbly has given me. I’m also very happy not to have to do the housework.

I think that developing a degenerative condition or becoming suddenly disabled is more challenging than my wobbliness, because for me it’s predictable and I’ve never not had it. I find people with those other conditions incredible because they so often retain such positivity. Disability brings out the choice in you to appreciate life and get as much out of it as possible, or to lie in a heap on the floor. I certainly had that point in my life where I made that choice, but I can only talk about my own experience.

CR: You’ve made some strong points in the media since the Paralympics about the Government’s approach towards disability. Are you still incensed about the issue?

FM: All this positive talk is a bunch of lies, when at the same time they are dismantling benefits and condemning a lot of disabled people to a life which is harder and scarier. We need to stand up against it, as it’s an issue that could potentially affect everyone - anyone could be hit by a bus tomorrow.

Disabled people can lead useful and productive lives, but they often need help or support to get there. I want to see my taxes funding the NHS and benefits, things that make the world better, not weapons of mass destruction.

It was so galling seeing their attitude during the Paralympics; they didn’t seem to consider that most of the athletes probably needed State help at some point to get where they are.

CR: You appeared ‘on the panel of BBC Radio 4’s The News Quiz recently. How scary was that?

FM: I wasn’t scared at all, actually. Standup is a really good training for giving anything a go, so after years of doing live comedy, anything else isn’t hard in comparison. Getting booked for The News Quiz was a great chance to show that I can be funny when talking about other stuff, not just about disability.

Everyone was really friendly - I’m good friends with Jeremy Hardy, who was on with me, anyway, and he was lovely. It’s not rocket science, having a bit of banter about the news. I found it really fun. What I do isn’t really working for a living; I always try to have that perspective, and that helps with not being nervous.

CR: Would you like to do the television panel shows? You started out as an actress on Grange Hill in the 90s, and have been on television since then in various acting roles and as a serious commentator on disability issues - but you haven’t yet made that breakthrough into TV comedy. Is this a bit of a bugbear?

FM: As the first wobbly woman in comedy, the doors to TV seem to be shut because they haven’t had to be opened before. I can get on serious shows, but producers seem to have a problem with seeing comedy and disability mixing, because they see disability as a “serious” subject. But I’ve spent my whole adult life doing comedy, and I think that the producers are really underestimating the public, who only actually care if you’re funny, and also like it if you’re a bit different.

It’s true that comedy is still very male dominated, but the live circuit is a lot more diverse than TV comedy, which has a very narrow representation of that. There’s still quite a long way to go. The Paralympics showed that people like diversity; emotions were heightened and it was more unpredictable than the mainstream Olympics. People are fascinated and curious - they want to know more. It’s human nature, and TV hasn’t grasped that quite yet, and is still wary.

CR: The theme of your current live show means that the issue of disability runs through it - do you think that you’ll ever write a show that doesn’t mention it?

FM: I always thought that I didn’t talk about disability; I talked about my life experiences and views. I’m always going to be wobbly, and I don’t want not to mention it. Disability covers a huge range of issues, but I don’t so much talk about them as just talk about myself, the same as any comic would do. I’ve never thought that I don’t want to be honest about who I am.

My last show was very political and a lot less personal; more about politics, religion and the media. I enjoyed talking about things that have nothing to do with my life, but I’ll always cherish the element of being personal because that’s where the real power of comedy lies.

In this current show, there’s a lot about me falling in love for the first time, and that’s nothing to do with me being wobbly; it’s just about me.

* Francesca Martinez brings What The **** Is Normal?! to Pegasus Theatre in Oxford on Saturday, November 17.

* First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, November 8, 2012

Poptastic fun - Frisky & Mannish review

Frisky & Mannish at The Corn Exchange, Newbury on October 3, 2012

I HOPE Frisky & Mannish realise that they impressed me so much on their first visit to Newbury, at New Greenham Arts last October, that not only have I broken my own golden rule about not seeing the same act twice within two years, but I have actually planned this write-up within 12 months of the last one specifically to spread the word about their twinklesome fabulousness. I even missed Red Dwarf legend Norman Lovett at Arlington Arts on the same night for this pair Now, that’s devotion.

This all for a musical comedy twosome who I first dismissed as a “bit pants” on seeing them as part of BBC Three’s Edinburgh Fringe coverage. But lo - on seeing them live, the scales fell from my eyes, and I realised that well known pop songs reworked by a delightfully flamboyant pair of Oxford University graduates (Laura Corcoran and Matthew Floyd Jones) is not only the future of comedy, but the future of pop music.

Their current tour, Extra Curricular Activities, sees an upgrade of venue size - in Newbury’s case, from NGA to The Corn Exchange - and a setlist which mixes the best bits of their previous shows with some new material which proves they still have their fingers firmly on the pop pulse. While their previous tour, Popcentre Plus, had something of a cod-educational bent to it, Extra Curricular Activities goes all out for greatest hits-style fun; cramming in as many pastiches as possible, from Cheryl (Cole, as was, until she recently decided she was famous enough to drop the surname entirely) to Karen Carpenter, and Dizzy Rascal to the Bee Gees.

F&M’s talent (apart from the chameleon-like vocal talents of Corcoran, Floyd Jones’ snake-like hips, and an overall fantabulous sense of style, of course) is spotting the similarities between performers or songs from entirely different genres, making them unlikely musical bedfellows, and then taking the idea and running with it until the audience twig that they were in fact right all along, and in fact the link between the disparate performers should be blindingly obvious. And so, the Phantom Of The Opera-like “mentor” of sultry poppet Lana del Rey was revealed to be the barrel-voiced singer of Canadian one hit wonders Crash Test Dummies; and “X Factor reject” Diana Vickers to be the unexpected vocal lovechild of 90s Community Service dodger Mark Morrison.

The F&M concept of “pop” was widened for this show with an educational glimpse into the world of Made In Chelsea for audience members who hadn’t seen it (all but one, it turned out; and the F&M precis was more than enough), and an insightful interview with Cheryl (the one who was Cole). Lots of life-affirming fun, enforced audience dancing and game-for-anything volunteers. Everyone should have a little bit of F&M in their lives; and on Saturday night, The Corn Exchange certainly did.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on October 18, 2012

A funny valentine - review of Sandi Toksvig

Sandi Toksvig at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Saturday, September 15

COMEDIANS often rave about the warm and friendly atmosphere at The Anvil, but Sandi Toksvig’s visit  generated such a tangible glow of love radiating towards her from the audience, that she probably could have spent the whole show explaining the rules of Mornington Crescent (the unfathomable parlour game played on I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Clue) and still have been adored by every person present.

In fact, Toksvig gave us much more than that. Entitled “My Valentine”, the loose theme was a love letter from Toksvig to life; what inspires her to still find “delight in the day”. Much of her daily pleasures arise unexpectedly via her wholehearted love of books - not just literature of quality, but the fun to be had from dubious book titles, and a gem about the rules of golf during wartime, found while thumbing through an old golfing almanac (“A player whose stroke is affected by the simultaneous explosion of a bomb may play another ball from the same place. Penalty, one stroke.”)

It is no wonder that Toksvig has little trouble finding ideas for her novels, the most recent of which is Valentine Grey, and she explained the various inspirations for the plot, including the several women who are known to have disguised themselves as male soldiers (and many who were probably never discovered), and the horrors of the generally forgotten Boer War at the turn of the 20th century.

Toksvig’s anecdotes included touching tales about Toksvig’s late “showbiz husband” Alan Coren “We used to lie on his hotel bed eating burgers... it was like being an old married couple without the sex - hang on, that is being an old married couple”, her long-term friendship with John McCarthy, dating back to before he was taken hostage in the Lebanon, and her parents, who met at the BBC - “I have the BBC running through my veins”.

It was interesting to hear in Toksvig’s voice, not just the hint of Denmark of her birth which I always suspected bubbled just under the surface of her clipped English accent, but also the broad New York drawl which she brought to the UK as a teenager after years living in the USA. Such a globetrotting past hasn’t stopped Toksvig from becoming a truly British institution, but her description of Danish as a “peasant language with one word to describe one thing - although we have lots of words for ‘herring’” may go some way to explain her love of the intricacies and delights of the English language.

However, it was fun to learn some Danish essentials - if I am ever in Denmark to find that I have been made king, and need to convey my love of strawberries, I am sorted. There was also audience participation with a Q&A session, a silly little history quiz (I say “silly” only because I got knocked out on the first round) with the prize being not the expected signed copy of Valentine Grey, but a Moleskine notebook, beloved of many writers, to allow the winner to begin her “own writing journey”. 

The evening’s fun rounded off with a mass audience conducting of Beethoven’s Ode To Joy, commissioned by The Philharmonic Society of London in 1817 for £50 - “surely the best 50 quid ever spent”. I suspect everyone in the audience felt the same about the £18.50 they spent on their tickets.

• First published in the Newbury Weekly News on Thursday, September 22, 2012

Hearts and Bones - interview with Sandi Toksvig

WITH her fifth book out on September 6, radio comedy doyenne SANDI TOKSVIG is launching it with a touring show direct from Edinburgh Fringe mixing in stand-up, storytelling and hopefully some hot gossip centred around her career and her love of writing. CATRIONA REEVES spoke to her about her historical novel Valentine Grey, and the live show it has inspired.

CATRIONA REEVES: Your new book, Valentine Grey, is about a girl who dressed as a man to enrol as a soldier in the Boer War. Did you enjoy writing it?

SANDI TOKSVIG: Very much so. It’s taken about four years in total, and has involved a massive amount of research - probably too much, but it helps give a three-dimensional feeling to the book. I became totally immersed in its world; I even broke down in tears because I killed a character.

It’s a very odd feeling now that I’ve finished writing it - I’ve been working on it for such a long time, and I’ve had stuff all over my desk to do with it, which I only finally tidied away yesterday

CR: Part of the story focuses on Valentine’s cousin Reggie. She disguises herself as him to join the fighting, leaving him free to stay with his male lover in Victorian London. Was it important to you to have gay characters in the book?

ST: The gay element to the story wasn’t central to it to begin with - that evolved later on. I started with the central story about Valentine, but then I became interested in the character of Reggie as well, and his own battle developed. I find that happens with character; they take over and create their own story.

CR: Your live show is called My Valentine - is it all about the novel?

ST: The show does involve me talking about the book, but there will also be jokes and silliness; I’ll look at why people write and what they write about, and there will be a bit about silly book titles. It’s a mix of sensible and silly.

There will also be a question and answer session - I’ve got some good gossip if people ask the right questions.

CR: Do you consider yourself to be mainly a writer, performer or comedian?

ST: I like all of it - I get to do so many different things; writing the books,the radio shows [Toksvig is chairman of Radio 4’s The News Quiz] and television [she is a regularly panellist on QI]. I’ve got a play opening soon, and a new quiz show for Channel 4... I like the variety. I do also love writing; in a room on my own, enjoying the peace and quiet.

CR: You pop up quite regularly on the BBC comedy panel show QI, but not many women do - why do you think that is?

ST: I really don’t know - I think they must fear us. I’m good friends with some of the other women who appear on QI, including Jo Brand, but they never put us on together. It’s very rare that there are two women on the same panel. It’s odd, because there’s lots of women who appear on the News Quiz.

CR: You’ve had a long and successful television and radio career, but a lot of people in their 30s or so fondly remember you for your time on No. 73, the 1980s ITV Saturday morning show. Did you enjoy being involved in children’s television?

ST: No 73 was the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on. I was fresh out of uni, straight into a TV job that lasted six years. I didn’t particularly aim to work in children’s television - I never really had a career plan. I’d been in Footlights at Cambridge, and joined The Comedy Store Players [an improvisational comedy group based at London’s Comedy Store club]. Whose Line Is It Anyway? [Channel 4’s long-running improv show] came out of that, and one thing led to another.

My secret is that I never say no to anything. Well, it has to be of a certain standard; I avoid anything with “celebrity” in the title. I was asked to do the dancing one, but I decided that I’ve coped so far without learning how to tango, so I can probably live without it.

Sandi Toksvig will perform My Valentine at The Anvil, Basingstoke on Saturday, September 15.

• First published in Newbury Weekly News on August 23, 2012