The arse end of the "Oh Fuck I'm 40" tour continues - just two more performances after tonight - and I wound up in Chipping Norton this evening. I don't think I have ever been here before and as I remarked on stage I was slightly surprised to find that it was a real place, having thought it might have just been made up as a joke name for a comedy sketch.
I am not entirely convinced that it hasn't. Maybe the sketch writers have just taken their joke to elaborate lengths by building the town and paying actors to pretend to live there. There was something slightly unbelievable about the place. The theatre itself was very small, but even so was ornate and had an upper circle. Everything was just a bit smaller and twee than in a regular theatre, like it had been built on the design for a doll's house theatre. I commented that it was like a Hobbit theatre, which went down well with the strange Hobbit folk of "Chipping Norton". This was all quite gratifying as once again I hadn't prepared anything for the start and this all occurred to me whilst I was on stage. Maybe the podcasts are helping me loosen up as a comedian. Say what you like about Andrew Collings being a goody two shoes, liberal, gluten free, bird molester, spilling his oat milk over anyone foolish enough to get in his way (all of which are true), but working with him is teaching me many things. Not that he is consciously doing anything to help. It's just good he's there. He's like an accidental Yoda. With an unnatural interest in ducks.
The theatre was all locked up when I got there, even though the gig was starting in an hour and when I got there I had to ring a bell to be let in. Later I went back to my car, precipitously parked on the pavement on a steep incline outside the box office, to get a newspaper and was again locked out. I rang the bell, but no one came to let me in. I rang it a few more times, but obviously the bloke who had let me in was elsewhere, so I had a chance to watch Chipping Norton life going by.
Some people were standing on the pavement outside the pub next door. One man, perhaps a little worse for wear at 7.30pm (bank holiday weekend though, so this is acceptable) was lying down, his legs in the road. Another man arrived with a baby, and everyone greeted the pair, cooing over the latest resident of this fictional town. The baby was, if anything, the best actor in the place.
The recumbent fellow looked up from the gutter and asked if he could hold the baby, but the father sensibly declined. "Why aren't I ever allowed to hold babies?" slurred the lolling lush. The others smiled and told him it was because he was a piss head. He laughed along.
Then one of the group spotted something at the top of the slope - "What's that?" they asked, "Is that the police?"
"It's an American one - what's going on?"
I looked to my left and saw that there was indeed a US police car, with one of those windscreen nameplates saying "Jake" and "Elwood". The excited occupants were pressing their siren and leaning out the windows and waving at people, enjoying being the centre of attention. This might have been the most exciting thing to happen in Chipping Norton for years. The script writers had really pushed the boat out. Though to me it smacked of "Jumping the Shark" desperation.
Some of the people from the pub were so excited by this development that they headed up the road to get a closer look. "Shall I take a photo of you sitting on the bonnet?" said a woman as she passed. I don't think they would have been more excited if the car had actually contained Dan Akroyd and a reincarnated John Belushi. It was terrific, but added to the weird vibe of this town, that someone on my guestbook would later refer to as being reminiscent of "Hot Fuzz".
The gig went well, though the actors in the Hobbit Theatre could have got into their parts a bit more and laughed slightly louder. But they have to live this lie 24/7 so it must get wearing. And they must have been envious that they hadn't got to be in the scene with the police car.
Maybe the whole place is actually real. I don't know. Chipping Sodbury is a joke though, right?
