The three day Charlie Chaplin celebrations end (I am hopeful that eventually replace Easter) as the 20th April sees the birthday of the enemy of the toothbrush moustache (or at least the man who turned it from good to evil) Adolf Hitler. This is a day when, in a thousand years time and all the world celebrates Charlie Chaplin Easter and grow tiny moustaches to show their gratitude, will shave off their nasal welcome mats in disgust at Hitler's antics. Yes antics.
And then they will kneel before massive golden statues of the man slash god who showed them the light and directed them towards the new moustache based religion, Richard Herring.
For the moment we can only say, "Unhappy Birthday Hitler". And that will have to do.
I was at the theatre tonight, watching a show that I might have found pleasing enough (though I don't think it was ever going to bowl me over completely) but my viewing experience was spoiled by several over-laughers in the audience. By which I mean other people in the audience (and one right behind where I was sitting) who laughed disproportionately loudly at things that I only found mildly amusing and whose laughter was thus distracting and unsettling and spoiled the show. It was laughter that seemed too loud to be genuine as if the people doing it were saying, "Look at us, we get what's going on here. And we want you to know how brilliant this is." As if they were trying to make the show about them.
Because it's kind of weird if a few people are laughing ostentatiously at something that is just making everyone else smirk and it's actually off putting to the rest of the crowd and makes them less inclined to join in.
I think I might have been guilty of this kind of laughter in the past and perhaps I too was being a little attention seeking. I certainly have a loud laugh when I get going and sometimes can't help that. But I have noticed it sometimes when I am on stage. The overlaugher can sometimes cause the people around them to clam up and get annoyed and you can sense them bristling with annoyance. But you can't do anything from the stage. You can't tell people who are laughing to shut the fuck up and if you do you will only make everyone clam up further for fear of being picked on for enjoying something.
I don't think the people tonight were plants (and if they had been put there to encourage other people to loosen up then it was a massive miscalculation - reducing a room full of people to that kind of uncontrollable mirth is an organic thing that cannot be forced and which has to happen naturally and gradually and maybe that's what makes the forced laughter of others seem grating) and I think they were just big fans who were keen to show their enthusiasm. But possibly the funniest bit of the show was spoiled for me by the woman behind me. It was a silly piece of slapstick that was mildly amusing, but then which continued on and on for about five minutes. It was beautifully performed and my own laughter would have built up naturally bit by bit, had not the woman behind me laughed at the original fall as if it was the funniest thing that had ever happened. She carried on laughing at that level for the next five minutes, but her laughter had nowhere to go, because the original slip and fall had been so amusing to her. But for me (and I would ascertain most people in the crowd) the gag became truly funny due to its ridiculous relentlessness. But although I giggled a little the overlaugher had ruined the bit for me. And every guffaw jarred within me making it even harder for me to even chuckle.
I am not really criticising the woman for enjoying herself - that is her right - only pointing out this odd and occasional phenomenon that I have noticed from the other side of the stage and acknowledging that sometimes someone loving a show can have a negative fact on the whole thing. Because I don't think I was the only one affected by this tonight. And it was weird because usually you will only get one overlaugher in a room, but tonight there were four or five at least. Maybe they were friends of the cast and thought they were helping. But they weren't helping.
I certainly don't want to created self-consciousness in any audience and 99 times out of 100 a good laugher will break the ice and pave the way for the rest of the crowd to lose themselves in the moment. But I am pretty sure that tonight was one of the occasions where the laughter only intimidated and annoyed the other patrons, making them feel somehow inadequate that they weren't finding the rather light, if enjoyable and well performed, set pieces to be the funniest things they have ever seen in their life.
But then a lot of people who go to the theatre hardly ever go to see comedy, so maybe they are more easily pleased. If these people genuinely found the slightly simplistic stuff they were laughing at this funny then I kind of wished they would go and see some actual comedians perform. Though they might explode. Which would be even more distracting.
Think I might have a Herring Rules for next Saturday's 6Music show though, huh?
