Rob Gilroy: Making A Stand #30
Is it just me or have there been an awful lot of open letters to and from comedians in this last couple of weeks?
Steve Coogan’s written to David Mitchell, David Mitchell’s written back, Russell Brand’s written to everyone everywhere and even Robert Webb’s replied.
Honestly, anyone would think comedians have taken out shares in the Royal Mail, with the amount of correspondence going on.
Most of it, to be fair, stemming from the Mitchell and Webb camp. A camp that consists solely of Mitchell and Webb – they must be going through Bics by the dozen.
Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s a good thing.
Comedy, as well as being about tickling ribs (in the metaphorical sense, as opposed to the surgical), is about addressing difficult and taboo subjects.
Without edgy comedy Tom Green would have been just another desperate man playing with his own faeces in a bus station.
If comedians can’t use their platform to say the unsayable, then what’s the point in them having it? It’s like me!
“You Rob?” Yes me. I have this column (y’know, the one you’re currently reading) and if I didn’t use it to say anything worthwhile, it would be a waste.
Now, I agree with you that I have yet to use it for anything worthwhile but who knows – today could be the day!
It’s not, though. Sorry.
Nevertheless, comedians are in a very privileged position; they have a completely captive audience, for the most part.
Not always, to be fair; have you ever tried generating political unrest in the upstairs room of a Toby Carvery in Longbenton? It’s not easy, but we got there in the end (after the desserts).
But for famous comedians – the ones who are mentioned in green rooms up and down the country in between globules of venom and jealousy – they have an almost always captive audience.
With the advent of Twitter and Facebook and a greater ability to have a constant, online presence; it’s incredibly easy for your Russell Brands or your Bobby Davros to contact their fan base directly. It no longer has to be round the back of Jongleurs, Ormskirk.
In many ways it’s a blessing. For comedy geeks of my age range and older – we can still remember a time when it was nowhere near this easy to communicate with those we admired.
When I was twelve; if I wanted an autograph from Jim Carrey (which I did) I would have to write off to his fan club in America (which I did) and wait eighteen months to get a reply (which I did).
Now people can tweet him on a daily basis about how Mr. Popper’s Penguins changed their lives (which I do and it did).
But for all these positives – there is also a danger. For some people, their only real influences come from those people they admire in the public eye.
The problem is, if you’re somebody who doesn’t have solid views on important issues, if you’re not the sort of person who can watch a news report and be utterly convinced of your stance on the matter, when listening to people you admire it is easy to be convinced by their arguments purely because they speak with passionately and confidently about it.
For anyone who thinks I’m talking down to the fans of comedians; I’m not. I absolutely class myself in this category.
I would love to say that I am unbelievably assured in my outlook on life and greater global issues, but I’m not.
I’m 26 and I find most things in this world utterly confuse me. I can just about make it to the end of an episode of The Sopranos and be sure that I know what’s happening, but I can’t be expected to know where I stand on the political system we have in this country, or the possible needs for military intervention in countries of unrest.
These are big subjects and ones which – by my own admission – I am not clever enough to deal with.
Like the Question Time panel playing pinball, I spend a lot of time navigating between different peoples’ opinions and views, trying to assess the facts and work out where I stand with it all.
You may be different, but I struggle to be decisive about this stuff. It’s complicated and every different thought process brings about its own set of consequences – hence why no one’s asking me to go sort out Syria.
Not that I mind this; I’m happy to remain curious and unsure – I think these issues tend not to be black and white, and taking such an approach only hinders your ability to process it and as a comedian it helps inform most of what I do.
The character of Jerry Bucham is influenced by my inability to be a political comedian. I would love to stick it up to the man but I can barely stay focussed when I’m watching the weather forecast, so what chance do I have spending half an hour in the company of Huw Edwards.
My indecisions inform my comedy, and I’m happy to keep it that way. When it comes to important things; I’m useless but at least I’m making people laugh. Although that’s debatable.
I think it’s great that comedians are engaging in discussions about political and social issues.
In this day and age when politicians feel even less relatable and trust in the media is under constant scrutiny; it is reassuring to see that people care and are willing to broach these subjects.
While I think it’s dangerous for them to completely align themselves to a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way; the fact it prompts other people – even dimwits like me – to engage in discussion; is a step in the right direction.
And I’ve managed to fill a column, so it’s win/win.
Rob can be seen next at the Newcastle Stand as part of Gavin Webster’s Northumbrian Assembly on Sunday 10 November, and as part of Jolly Mixtures at their Hull Comedy Festival show on Friday 15 November.
