A comedian's guide to what makes different British cities laugh
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Version 0 of 1. Being a comedian is a little like being a travelling salesman, only without the dignity of a tangible product. As a result of our itinerant lives, comedians are often asked what part geography plays in the sensibility of comedy-goers. Which cities enjoy a good fart joke? Which love to hear riffs on wine varietals? Which have no sense of humour at all? Usually we will scoff and refuse to answer. Unless there’s something to promote, in which case we will opine on anything. Incidentally, my show at the Edinburgh fringe is on at 7:15pm at the Pleasance Courtyard. Now let me unfurl my map. London My home city is also the place where I’ve been brought on stage as “Nick Kramer” more than once. London audiences are an odd cocktail of tourists, comedy fans and homeless people looking for shelter. The crowds are up for anything, comedy-wise, although it’s always tough to perform near the square mile, where the gigs tend to be full of investment bankers who love to heckle comedians as they drunkenly celebrate getting away with causing a financial crisis. Liverpool The received wisdom is that Liverpool is the most difficult place to perform in the UK, though I think audiences at my gigs will attest to the fact that I am capable of making it look difficult absolutely anywhere. There is a sense that the people of Liverpool believe themselves to be so intrinsically hilarious that they couldn’t possibly find anyone else funny. Personally, I think the problem is that many comedians choose to focus on negative stereotypes of the locals, portraying them as feckless thieves, and then wonder why they seem so angry. In my experience, if you turn up and don’t insult them, they’re absolutely fine. Newcastle The Geordie people love three things: Alan Shearer, shirtless drinking and surreal comedy. The north-east has given birth to a disproportionately high number of abstract comics, from the deranged cabaret of Vic and Bob to the improvisational mastery of Ross Noble. Newcastle likes its comedy to be a mixture of affectionate and inventive. Presumably this is because if you go on a night out in Newcastle, you will see things that would even make Salvador Dali say “Wow. That’s really weird.” If you’re a friendly oddball, this city will take to you. Manchester When it comes to its taste in comedy, Manchester is as divided as the Gallagher brothers. There are those who are looking for more direct, simpler standup (think of them as the Liams) and then there is a distinctly more cerebral half (think of them as the Noels). Put it this way: no other city in the country could have produced both Bernard Manning and Ben Elton. The king of the racist zinger and the figurehead of the movement designed to bring it down – Manchester, you are spoiling us. Cardiff Cardiff embodies the dichotomy of the British comedy audience. One night it can be a booze-fuelled heckle festival that forces you to use every put-down in the playbook. The next you find yourself performing to a group of comedy nerds in an art gallery. What unifies them is that they are not averse to material dealing with bodily functions. Other parts of the country can be squeamish, but not the brave citizens of this city, possibly due to dealing with the sight of visitors relieving themselves in the street after having attempted to keep pace with their hosts in alcohol consumption. It’s a city that divides its time between being drunk and delightful. It’s also the city where someone once shouted, “Keep going mate!” – the only time in my career a heckle has been a source of encouragement. Leeds I’m the comedic antithesis of Brian Clough, in that I always have a good time in Leeds. Apart from one time when I left my wallet in a Café Nero. But I hardly think that can be blamed on the city itself. Leeds enjoys a storyteller, particularly one who is grounded in everyday life. I’ve got a long story about seeing the film Shame with my dad that always plays well there. The audiences are that ideal combination of rambunctious and attentive. They’ll get heavily involved but have a clear sense of when to shut up – in short, the ideal comedy crowd. Edinburgh As the host city for the world’s biggest comedy festival, Edinburgh audiences have seen absolutely every conceivable type of comedy over the last 30 years. As such, they are prepared for anything, but have high standards. They can be tough to win over, but once they like you, they let you know. Initial hostility gives way to fervent enthusiasm, but you’ve got to earn it. Edinburgh remains the only time in my career I’ve been booed on to the stage. I pressed on anyway, until a man shouted at me to “Get to f***!”, a Celtic expression I hadn’t yet encountered. I duly obliged. Nish Kumar: Ruminations on the Nature of Subjectivity is at the Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh, from 1-25 August. • New York state of mind: how American sitcoms depict US cities |