Hecklers and Homophobia

Last night's gig was...shall we say eventful?

Firstly, during my set itself, I had a nice back-and-forth exchange with two guys in the front row. One of them was a bald heterosexual man called Dom, but he initially said his name was Jon - for no discernible reason. I renamed him Daisy. I went on to have an odd flirtatious chat with him - all for comedic effect, of course - in which he at one point joked "shall we just go to the toilets now?", implying we would have homosexual relations. It was all funny and light-hearted, and it made me think "ah, it's always nice when people are carefree and rational enough to be comfortable with their own sexuality to joke about things like this".

After the gig, his mate came into the green room and apologised for heckling, to which I said it wasn't needed as an apology, because they were friendly and helpful heckles. We then - along with a comedian friend of mine who also performed - chatted for a good hour or so, and he said that he used to be in the army. He told me he'd had to return fire at people in Afghanistan, jump out of planes, and that his best mate died in his arms. He then went on to say "I could never do what you do", insisting it was "a different kind of bravery". I am struggling to get my head around it, to be frank. I've never been more proud of the fact that I do stand-up, though.

At this point, I will reveal the fact that the other comedian was a gay man. This shouldn't be something I need to reveal, but sadly it was.

My comedian friend offered myself and the army man a lift to the train station, which we kindly accepted. The army man went up to his mate and said he was getting a lift with us, to which his mate said "careful! They might bum ya!", before looking over at us and saying "No offense." Then, as we were leaving through the door, he shouted "remember to spit on it first!" He then called the guy up twice in 30 mins to check he was alright, both times implying nasty things. I'm not entirely sure what he said, but his mate had to respond "no, they were just two nice guys", and "yes, I'm safe and sound".

Firstly, saying "they might bum you" about non-heterosexual people, while talking to your heterosexual friend, is not something you can simply say "no offense" about. You have just implied that you think that any man who is interested in other men is therefore likely to rape every man he sees, which I think one would be quite within their right to take offense over. Secondly, I wouldn't have a problem with someone calling up a friend if they were getting a lift with a stranger, far from it. It's the fact it was more than that. It's the fact that I am certain, considering the guy phoned up twice asking if his friend was alright in such a short space of time - and the responses his friend gave - that it was something worse than that. What made it all the more confusing was I had earlier thought this man was clearly a tolerant and open-minded individual - he had been willing to joke about the idea of himself being gay, after all - but it turned out that he was the type of person who genuinely believes that non-heterosexual men can't be trusted, and are a real threat.

This is, sadly, not a new thing. They are many cases of straight men being scared of non-straight men; phrases like "keep your backs to the wall" and "don't drop the soap" are ones that most people will have heard. But I had never before come across a man who was happy to joke about the concept, but actually had deep-rooted homophobic tendencies. It's more than a little disconcerting.

Aside from this, it was a nice gig. It was at a pub called The Unicorn, too, which is an awesome pub name. Also, seriously: what kind of homophobe says to his mates with a straight face "anyone fancy a pint down The Unicorn tonight?" A stupid* one.

*All homophobes.

Thanks for reading,

Tom.

Alcohol and Comedy

I recently read an article on Chortle about the new Redemption comedy night, which is running what have been referred to as “dry” comedy nights – that is, comedy gigs without alcohol. I thought I may as well write a piece about my own experience of running a comedy night without alcohol.

In August of 2014, I entered into negotiations to start running a comedy night at Dar Papillon in Berkhamsted. Dar Papillon is a vegan café, owned and run by a woman who is a Muslim. Due to her religious beliefs, I was told that it would have to be, rather unconventionally, an alcohol-free night. This didn’t bother me, really; it was already an unconventional venue, after all - most gigs are in pubs or nightclubs, not vegan cafés. I was assured that we would be able to get an audience, as they had previously had a good audience there for variety nights, consisting of musicians, poets, and dancers, as well as authors talking about their work.

While planning for the night, we decided we’d use the venue – and stipulations regarding the venue – to our advantage. We marketed it as “the comedy club that’s different”, celebrating the fact that is was abnormal, rather than being put off by it. We then went about booking acts who were a bit different, to match the vibe. For example, on the first night, we had one act in the first half of the night that played the character of an African Dictator, President Obonjo. We then opened the second half with him being “himself”, bemoaning the fact that this character, his own creation, was taking over his life. It was different, absurd, and silly, but most importantly it was funny. As for the room itself, we decorated it with Chinese lanterns, bright multi-coloured cloth, and put little pots of nibbles around the room for acts and audience alike to help themselves to. All of the acts commented on how nice the room was, and how it was different from most venues they had played.

Before the first night, I was be told by a friend of mine that he’d overheard a comedian at an open mic night saying “comedy without alcohol? That can never work”. I also know an act that has fallen out with another act due to an argument over whether comedy can work without alcohol. I understand that lots of comedy nights – particularly those ran in rooms above pubs – rely on the extra income from drink sales to keep afloat, and in no way am I saying that alcohol should be banned from comedy, or anything absurd like that. I have done plenty of brilliant nights in rooms above pubs, and I understand completely how important alcohol can be in making many nights financially viable, especially when promoters are trying to convince landlords that they should host a comedy night at their venue. I also know that alcohol can help audiences relax, letting the laughs flow more freely. However, we all know that alcohol at comedy nights can turn audience members – and sometimes comedians – into disruptive morons who damage the night for everyone, so I guess it’s important to recognise that there are both pros and cons.

All I can say is this: we have run two nights at the venue so far (last October and November, respectively) and for both nights, we had a good audience who enjoyed the night; we had acts who had good gigs; and we made a profit on both nights (and after only charging £3 per ticket/£1.50 for concessions, and paying for a headliner). So, while some acts might think “you can’t have stand-up comedy without alcohol”, we managed it.

Comedy without alcohol? I’ll drink to that.