A few years ago I met Jimmy Tarbuck backstage at a TV show. He found out I was a comedian and said to me, “Well, good luck, son. Being a comedian is that hardest job in the world!” He let the words hang in the air, flicked his huge cigar, then went and talked to Dale Winton. Two things struck me. Firstly, it was a bit arrogant. Reading between the lines Tarbuck was saying “Being a comedian is the hardest job in the world and I have succeeded at it”. And secondly, he was wrong. Compared to being a brain surgeon or a fireman or Secretary General of the United Nations, surely the job of staying in bed til 6pm, going to a pub, doing maybe half an hour’s work and then getting pissed isn’t all that tricky.
All right, maybe thereÂ’s more to being a comedian than that. But providing that youÂ’re funny and that you arenÂ’t intimidated by drunk people telling you to go forth and multiply with yourself, then itÂ’s reasonably easy.
But, if you have aspirations to have a life-long career in comedy, then admittedly things can start to get difficult. So in a way, maybe Tarbuck (I canÂ’t call him Tarby, as I havenÂ’t played golf with him) was on to something. Being a successful comedian is hard. Maybe not the hardest job in the world, but I bet you that Kofi Anann would be shit at it. So Tarbuck had every right to be proud with himself, because he has achieved that goal.
The thing about being a comedian is that itÂ’s in your interest to make out that your job is easy. All the best comedians appear to make us laugh effortlessly, but for all but a very fortunate few, achieving this effortlessness takes a lot of hard graft. Most of the comics you see on TV have slogged their way through the clubs, or through writing gags for the radio or other comics. They have tried, failed, tried again, failed again, failed better. Jesus only died for you once. WeÂ’ve all done it hundreds of times. And yet somehow heÂ’s better than us? ThereÂ’s no justice.
More and more people are trying to be a comedian. The proliferation of comics at the Edinburgh Fringe shows that. And the shows are getting more and more professional, in terms of performance and promotion. Which means that being a comedian is getting more difficult. (Yeah, even harder than it was for you, Tarbuck. How do you feel now youÂ’re being patronised? Not that bad, because you are still clearly far more successful than me? Oh, right, sorry to bother you!) The competition for TV contracts is increasingly intense and this in turn means that if you get on TV and arenÂ’t an immediate success, there are hordes of eager comics waiting to take your place. And TV executives, the fickle fickers, are always looking for the next bright thing, once the last bright thing begins to lose its lustre.
Which is why it isn’t always such a bad idea to wait until you have experience. I don’t want to sound like one of those ludicrous, old school comedians who constantly bang on saying, “You have to learn your craft”, but you have to learn your craft. All the new act competitions and BBC New Talent enterprises and even something like Pop Stars, seem to be saying to people, “Come on, this is easy. All you have to do is get on telly and you’ll be fine.” But it’s not enough just to get on TV. If you want a long term career, you have to learn your craft, have something to fall back on.
A few weeks ago my manager (and if some are to be believed, evil super-villain) Jon Thoday stated that he often turns down TV work for his acts because a bad television show can set an actÂ’s career back by years. Despite his incurable wickedness he is right.
The last TV show I appeared in finished in 1999. I had worked in partnership with Stewart Lee for 10 years to get to this point and then just when I felt we were producing our best work, we were axed . That could easily have meant the end of everything. But luckily I had spent the preceding few years writing plays and sit-coms, one of which got commissioned. I decided to go back to writing solo Edinburgh shows and they went well (I don’t think it fits into the article, but evil Jon Thoday has insisted that I mention that the latest of these “Talking Cock” is on at the Soho Theatre from Sept 25th to Oct 18th at 9.15pm. I find such self-publicity embarrassing, but you have to understand Thoday has got my children. You don’t know what he is capable of. If the show doesn’t make enough money he will eat my baby. Please come. Please.)
Because of my ability to diversify I think I have a good shot at making a living at this for the rest of my life. IÂ’m not trying to show off . IÂ’m just saying that being a comedian is the hardest job in the world. Now pass me a cigar, Tarby. And letÂ’s dump these losers and go and talk to Ant and Dec.
