My nerves were wracked and I couldn't work out if the script that I had managed to hastily complete by lunchtime was funny or just crap. But it was reassuring to walk into the Leicester Square Theatre at just after 1 to see the familiar faces of Dan Tetsell and TV's Emma Kennedy waiting for me. Dan was ill and Emma had to rush off straight after the recording to go to Bristol where she's filming Casualty (and had loyally told them she couldn't come down on Monday for the costume fitting). I was touched that they had made the effort, because believe me they are doing this for love, not money. Dan had even brought in some Haribo for us all to eat, like we were on a proper show funded by a broadcaster.
And we had fun with the first read through. There were laughs in it. In fact when we got to the 9 dwarves sketch Emma was unable to continue and both me and her had tears running down our eyes. A similar thing had happened with the Mother Theresa Gonke Burjonka sketch in TWTTIN, but this time we knew that if we broke down laughing mid way through a line we were not going to get a chance to do it again. There was some jeopardy. We are terrible corpsers.
There seemed to be enough material, with a 29 page script and lots of opportunity for less scripted interjections, but I cut a few of the bits down. The ethos of the show is to include everything, even if a sketch is a bit long or something doesn't work for everyone, and to allow the listener to decide what's funny and what isn't. Unlike with the radio there is no time limit so I didn't feel rushed to get on with something and had the freedom to explore an idea if anything struck me in the performance. And to say anything I wanted no matter how rude. Which isn't to say I was going to fill it with filth. Knowing I could go as far as I liked was enough and I wasn't going to abuse that power. If it was all rude and sweary then rudeness and expletives would lose their power. Though this script had some moments that wouldn't make it on to the BBC I liked the fact that it was 90% a radio-friendly script. Like I was a comedic soldier with a machine gun that you knew I could use, but which I was using for peace-keeping at the moment. But the threat of gunning down the entire village was always there.
This was very much a tentative and nervous toe in the water to see how this whole enterprise might work. I hoped that the potential of the idea would be clear, but knew that it was bound to improve in almost every way as the weeks progressed.
Not least technically. A producer called Ben had kindly volunteered to come down and help us sort things out and I have asked someone to put together some theme music, but he's been away on holiday. I was also unsure of how effectively we'd be able to secure and play in sound effects in this set up (would the technical person be up to it even if I could find them?) So I decided to make a joke of putting in only one sound effect and see how we got on with that. As it happened the staff at the theatre were more than competent and as always very helpful, so I think that that side of things will improve as time goes by. By show 10 we might have a product that sounds pretty much as professional as a radio show. But with more disgusting ideas in it.
The sound effect that I had found on line, of a roulette wheel, was so bad and strange that I had decided we should play it twice and I would comment on its uselessness. I had told the audience that there was only one sound effect in the show at the start, but what I hadn't anticipated was that when it came in, about 35 minutes in, the whole place erupted in cheering. Everyone had bought in to the DIY nature of the show and nearly everyone was behind me. We are still working on miking up the auditorium properly and the audience made more noise than it might seem like they did if you listen on line. And there was about 200 in, which is perfectly acceptable and is more than enough to cover the costs of the show. It would be great if we could build on that, because due to the unique way that this show is funded, the only way to make money is from people on the door (I really want to keep the podcast itself as a free download). But also the more people who are there the better the atmosphere will be.
I had forgotten to tell the audience to shout AIOTM when I did and also that I would be coming down amongst them and asking if anything had occurred to them this week and that was the only patch of the show which fell a bit flat. As I observed at the time, usually when a radio show goes into the crowd in this way there will be about a five minute record for 30 seconds of material as you will get a lot of dross. I might not do it again. But in a way the failure and the reality just reaffirmed the point of the show. And given I was forced to dig myself out of a hole it perhaps shook off the nerves a bit and helped the general vibe. Luckily Emma rescued the whole thing with the word "Thundercunt" and we were back on track. But I genuinely like the fact that you get to see the working out in this show. Stuff like this happens in all recorded comedy - a lot more than it did in this show usually - and then everything is tightened up in the edit. With AIOTM you get warts and all and it's the bona-fide live experience. It's low-tech and it's embarrassing in places, but that's what for me makes it special. And as I say, if you want you can edit the show on your computer, down to your own individual perfect 30 minutes (or less). But if I cut it down to 30 then I'd lose a joke that might only make one of you laugh, but why deprive that one person of that joy.
I felt a bit punch drunk after it was all over - and weirdly the dwarves bit got nowhere near making us laugh in the performance, though still got reasonable laughs. But it seemed from most reactions that people had enjoyed it and found it engaging and exciting.
As I walked back from the tube tonight with the CD of the show in my pocket I too felt excited. It seemed that this idea has the potential to be genuinely revolutionary and that once I've relaxed into it could be something really, really special. The possibilities of the medium were making my nerves tingle. Could this slapdash and stupid comedy show be the thing that finally gets people sitting up and taking notice of me?
It doesn't really matter one way or the other. What's exciting is the fact that it's possible and I don't need anyone else, apart from you, the listener at home and 200 plus people in the theatre. It cuts out all the middlemen, the executives and the journalists and the naysayers and the idiots who write in to complain. None of them have any power now. Only me and you.
I was glad to have Ben on board though as when I got home the recording was really quiet and also my computer was automatically converting the track to an iTunes entry and I had no idea how to sort it out. I phoned him and he calmly reassured me that he could sort it out. He sent it out to the British Comedy Guide for publication and amazingly the stuff that I had largely written on Sunday and Monday morning was ready to be heard by anyone in the world who was interested before most people would have been awake on Tuesday morning.
You can hear the podcast
here, but if you can please subscribe at iTunes, where the podcast has climbed back up to 2nd place, which is just unbelievable. Let me know what you think about the show (but be aware that I know there are issues to be addressed and that it's far from perfect) and do spread the news to anyone you think might be interested. You can be part of the army storming the citadel of the broadcasters and help break their monopoly on comedic output. Their stranglehold on deciding what you can and can't listen to might be loosening slightly.
And to any other writers and performers out there - this is a viable way to do things. You might not make any money (to start with at least) and you might rely on the support of friends and colleagues helping you out out of the goodness of their hearts, but I have found there is a lot of support out there, with people offering help with production, music, sound effects and even getting the coffees. If what you are doing is good, make it and they will come. And if it isn't good, make it and then you might work out how you can improve. I might be lucky to have the option to put this on in a big theatre in the centre of London, but it would work anywhere. The revolution is coming and doubtless I will end up like Trotsky with an ice pick in my head whilst one of you other fuckers will be the Stalin in charge of a massive evil totalitarian broadcasting corporation. But things are changing.
These are amazing times for comedy.
