I:M Comedy

Hello! You are probably already bored of my sporadic apologies for this blog. I'm ashamed to say I've been neglecting for fancy Wordpress magazine Inter:Mission.

I'm happy to announce that I recently become Comedy Editor of Inter:Mission and I've been putting a lot of work into editing that section. I'd love it if you could check it out! You wouldn't be alone - I:M recently got its highest hits in one day ever, and nearly 30% of those unique views were to the comedy section. I'm a very proud mummy.

To read all of my writing for Inter:Mission, click here. Thanks! Loveyoubye!

A Gudie to the Drunken Pitstops of Bristol

You’re heading home from a night out with blisters on your feet and a rumbling in your stomach. Before packing you off to university, your mum told you to have three square meals a day. You suspect your approaching hangover will make breakfast unlikely, if not an impossibly herculean task. You decide that it is only sensible to eat before you go to bed. But which of Bristol’s many late-night food options do you choose?

You don’t have the mental faculties to make such an important decision. So let me guide you to that golden chip. I’ve handily arranged recommendations by area, so you won’t have to stumble too far to find that kebab you’re craving.

The Triangle

Clifton’s Triangle has so many good late-night options that it really is difficult to choose. Magic Roll is a deserved favourite for its fresh ingredients, inventive combinations and impressive choice. Ultimately, though, their drunken customers just love the portable pockets of warm, toasted satisfaction. This is a particularly good choice for veggies or indeed anybody who gags at the sight of congealing kebab meat.

For the biggest, best and most bizarre range of burgers in Bristol, visit Yo-Yo Burger. Their basic meal deals can satisfy even on a student budget, but it is their gourmet choices – including wild boar, ostrich, kangaroo, and Japanese wagyu beef – that appeal to the intoxicated foodie.

However, if you’re frankly past caring about the quality of your early-hours snack, then there’s only one decision to make: Hatch or Grill?* Divisions not seen since the Montagues and Capulets brawled on the streets of Verona have been inflamed by this debate. But as a star-cross’d lover of both establishments, this writer has to put it out there that there really is very little difference between them. Both provide generous portions of greasy kebab for reasonable prices. Both are famous for their cheesy chips or chips and gravy, which really do represent the peak of human achievement. My advice is to choose whichever has the shortest queue.

Park Street

The kebab shops of Park Street are ideal for 02 Academy indie-kids, Java goers or anybody bravely trudging up to Clifton from Bristol’s city centre. It is almost too easy to stumble into one of the many takeaways. Diamond Kebab is popular but can be painfully slow when busy, so head down past College Green if you’re desperate for pizza.

Cedars Express is the late-night food so good that you could even eat it sober. (It is, in fact, open at lunchtime as well.) Serving fresh Lebanese cuisine, this authentic establishment cooks kebabs the way they are supposed to be, rather than the cheap, offal-y sponges normally seen in Britain. Their takeaway pizzas have a delicious choice of toppings, the dips are to die for and, if you have a sweet-tooth, you should end your midnight feast with some honey-soaked baklava pastries.


Whiteladies Road

Whether your night ended in many of this area’s fine drinking establishments, or you live way up in Stoke Bishop, Whiteladies offers plenty of late-night options. Jason Donervan, found right at the bottom near The Bunker and Lizard Lounge, deserves a special mention for its name alone. Their chips and kebabs are the perfect accompaniment to shivering on a bench in the drizzle. Further up Whiteladies, M&M Kebabs provides similar “nourishment” further up the road, but with the added benefit of (albeit limited) indoor seating.

Domino’s Pizza is now open until 5am but can be a pricey option unless you happen to be carrying around one of their vouchers. If you can survive the walk to the top of Whiteladies without sustenance, Domus Pizza offers a much more reasonable alternative. Their pizzas are freshly made on crispy bases, and there is also some seating for you to collapse on.

Miss Millie’s Fried Chicken is a Bristol institution. Like KFC but cheaper – and without pretentiously pretending to be fresh, high quality or even edible – Miss Millie’s is a fresher’s last resort before the crossing the cold Downs. For fried chicken fans, their special coating is a golden, crispy thing of beauty. The Megabite burger comprises a chicken fillet, cheese, lettuce, ketchup, mayonnaise and the genius addition of a hash brown. If you prefer your chips thin and crispy, then wait until you reach this chicken emporium.

REVIEW: Nick Helm

Nick Helm is an overweight, 30-something, single, white male, whose material covers living alone, luminous condoms and failed relationships. So far, so conventional. But that is where the comparison to the average circuit comedian ends. Helm’s show is an experience unlike any other in comedy – simultaneously brutal and tender, both needy and confrontational – that gives the audience no choice but to ‘GET INVOLVED.’ As Helm says, ‘THIS IS HAPPENING.’

‘DO YOU LIKE JOKES? DO YOU LIKE JOKES? DO YOU LIKE JOKES?’ Helm spits in the face of an audience member as soon as he comes on stage. Within a minute, he has ripped open his cowboy shirt to reveal his name scrawled across his beer belly in biro. He demands the audience sings along to his songs. He constantly shouts at his stunned punters in a gravelly roar; despite coming from St Albans, his accent seems strangely west country, like Justin Lee Collins’ evil twin. There is no other option but to be dragged along in his seemingly indefatigable wake.

 

But there is a subtler side to his initially aggressive persona. He counters his brashness with bitter sentimentality and genuine pathos. He carries a pink notebook covered in cartoon cupcakes, from which he reads love poetry. In calmer moments, Helm is reminiscent of shambolic poet-comedian Tim Key. He shares an uncomfortably lingering hug with a man originally dragged on stage to be mocked in front of his date. These lulls contrast well with his manic energy, although they can seem worryingly like the product of genuine mental anguish. At one point, he whacks his head on the microphone so hard that it leaves a pink mark on his head for the rest of the performance; Helm demonstrates either admirable dedication to his act, or a concerning disregard for his own wellbeing.

Amongst the shouting, songs, shouting, poems, awkward silences and more shouting, Helm strafes the audience with one-liners. He won the award for Funniest Joke of the Fringe this year from Dave, digital home of endless repeats. ‘I needed a password eight characters long so I picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarves… No-one laughs at that joke any more. THANKS DAVE!’

Unfortunately, the Dave award is a rare accolade for Helm. By his own description ‘multi award-losing’, he has been nominated for – but failed to win – the Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award, Chortle Best Breakthrough Act and the Leicester Comedy Festival Award, and was a finalist or semi-finalist in the Laughing Horse, Amused Moose and So You Think You’re Funny competitions. On the strength of his Bristol performance, this is an outrageous oversight. Nick Helm is not so much a breath of fresh air on the comedy circuit, but a full-blown gale, and he deserves to be recognised. Look forward to seeing much more of him in the future.

This review was originally published in Inter:Mission on 23/10/11.

Can Costa Coffee Stir Up Some Comedy?

Café chain Costa Coffee has launched an online comedy competition in an uncomfortable attempt to link their newest beverage, Costa Light, with the “light-hearted” British sense of humour.  Is this just a bit of frothy fun? Or do corporate deals like this create real ethical problems for what is often a subversive and confrontational art form?

Comedy is booming at the moment. Stand-ups fill stadium gigs like rock stars, and make millions in DVD sales. The public is craving comedy like they crave caffeine, and Costa Coffee is only cashing in on the trend. It’s no wonder that class clowns and office jokers want to be part of the circuit and, by offering two 10-minute slots at the famous Comedy Store venues in London and Manchester, Costa is using their commercial resources to give somebody that chance.

Corporate sponsorship provides much-needed funding for new talent, but comedy is paying the cost. The demands of a commercial company, particularly their squeamishness about controversial subject matter, can ultimately censor comics and prevent them from pushing the boundaries of acceptability. PRs have the power to sanitize the jokes in their competitions, and when faced with losing the dangling carrot of national exposure or a cash prize, many struggling comedians cannot resist homogenizing their sets into an acceptable, marketable commodity.

Perhaps the public has no moral issue with this form of distribution. After all, Michael McIntyre’s brand of inoffensive, uncontroversial and often family-friendly comedy is incredibly successful. That isn’t in any way an insult - McIntyre’s material is undeniably funny, but it is also undeniable that even something as cannily observed as ‘the Man Drawer’ will never push boundaries of taste or thought. While the audience appreciates such populist humour, the comedians themselves certainly find it more problematic.

Even in a more alternative environment like the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, the problem of corporate sponsorship is still unavoidable. The Edinburgh Comedy Award, currently sponsored by Fosters Lager, was originally backed by the mineral water Perrier. In 1992, however, Perrier was bought by Nestle; according to campaign group Baby Milk Action, Nestle’s ‘aggressive marketing’ of powdered baby milk in developing countries contributed to infant malnutrition and death. Comedians were vocal in their protests against Perrier’s continued sponsorship. Emma Thompson, who won the first ever Perrier Award in 1981 as part of Cambridge Footlights, called for artists to boycott the awards, and Rob Newman created an anti-corporate alternative called the Tap Water Awards.

The Edinburgh Fringe has always stood for artistic freedom; acts have the opportunity to perform to their own audience on their own terms, without restrictions. But the Festival has grown massively, even in the few years since Perrier stopped sponsoring the award, and corporate funding is now necessary to keep it alive. Likewise, British comedy is too big to survive without the likes of Costa and other big corporations. Though the total corporatisation of comedy does seem unlikely, does the lure of sponsorship money outweigh the need for freedom of speech?

The decision to get into bed with big business really lies with the comedians, but there will always be a tension between what they want to say and what they are allowed to say. Costa Light may just create ‘Comedy Light’, and who wants low-caffeine, low-energy, unstimulating, extra-frothy comedy?

This article was originally published on Inter:Mission Bristol's Comedy Blog. To see it in the original and check out the (excellent) website, click here.

Inter:Mission

I am indeed that Emily Cawse, Deputy Editor of Inter:Mission Bristol. Described by my own cruel hand as a wannabe slacker with a crippling addiction to doing and a direct descendent of the real Monty Python. I got involved with I:M because I'm passionate about culture, but I giggle too much in serious exhibitions and art-house cinema.

You can read my articles for I:M on their website, of course, along with all the other excellent reviews, features, listings and blogs about the Bristol cultural scene.

(I've decided to post all my work for I:M on this blog after it's been up on the site for about a week. Not that I imagine my opinions are drawing massive crowds, but it does seem like a conflict of interests to split my miniscule readership between two different sites. If you read both, I will love you forever.)

The Free Fringe

Every performer dreams of spending August at the Edinburgh Festival – but a Fringe show costs more than the average actor or comedian can afford. Venue hire, accommodation, registration, travel, box office fees, promotional material, production costs and fast food between performances add up to thousands of pounds, which small companies have to find for themselves. The resulting high ticket prices mean that the cost of a trip to the festival is going up for audiences as well. Fosters Comedy Award winner Russell Kane charged a massive £17.50 for a one-hour show this year. Surely this isn’t the true spirit of the Fringe? Should artistic and cultural exchange cost so much? Isn’t there another way?

All these questions occurred to me as I stood on a rain-soaked Royal Mile, with only one solitary, foreign-looking fiver in my pocket, that would probably only buy me one drink in Edinburgh’s ridiculously-priced bars. Surely there must be a way to experience all the festival has to offer without maxing out my already-stretched budget? I stumbled down a side street, and discovered that the Fringe has sprouted another fringe of its own.

The Free Fringe began in 1996 on the principle that it would not charge performers to hire venue space, and the performers would not charge an entry fee (audiences are simply asked for donations at the end). This idea grew from the founding show, Peter Buckley Hill and Some Comedians, to this year’s 325 shows in 29 different venues. That’s not even counting the 340 shows at the rival Laughing Horse Free Festival, or the Forest Fringe, or countless other performances in off-the-radar venues. The simple concept of free venues and free entry has become a strong model for Edinburgh productions.

By reducing the costs of producing a show, performers are given the opportunity to experiment and develop, without getting into a debt that could drown their post-Edinburgh future. Free entry attracts audiences who have been priced out of the mainstream festival. More importantly, it encourages people to try something new, a show they perhaps wouldn’t have bought a ticket for. New, inexperienced, unknown or niche free performers rarely have an empty seat, while paid shows struggle to fill theirs.

And at the end of the night, my crumpled fiver ends up in the bucket of a free sketch show I genuinely enjoyed, going directly to the talented student cast, and then, I imagine, straight into the bar’s till in exchange for a well-deserved but over-priced pint.

(Originally published in Epigram, issue 240, 10/10/11)

School Report: Can't Stick At Anything

Yes, yes, I know I haven't posted to this blog since April. I am also aware that I only posted four articles before my unplanned hiatus. But, as with any good school report, I do have my excuses.

In May, I was forced to return to my 'day job' of full-time student. Although full-time is just a technicality for a 6-hour-a-week English student, when you're writing thousands of words for your assessment, writing an article is hardly ideal downtime.

In June I have no excuse. I was having fun. So sue me.

In July, I was lucky enough to visit New York for the first time. I won't make you jealous, but it was a dream come true.

In August, I was performing in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival as part of university improvised comedy troupe, Bristol Improv. I won't apologise for not writing anything, it was the hardest I've ever worked. We tried every tactic we could think of to coerce people into our show, but in the end we were suprisingly successful. Obviously, success in Edinburgh terms means you don't perform to an empty room every night, but luckily for us we were far from that. It goes without saying that the shall we say 'apres-ski' of the Festival was all part of it as well...

In September I had to earn some money, and I haven't yet reached the point where anybody is prepared to pay me for my writing. (Although I did do some work experience at Hair Ideas at the beginning of the summer, and they gave me a lovely bag of hair goodies when I left, which I was more than happy to accept.)

And now we reach October. I am now part of the exciting new online magazine, Inter:Mission, for which I will be writing features and reviews. Check it out, I hope you like it - I love it, and I can say that, as I had almost nothing to do with its set up.

Thanks for reading my inane witterings, if you indeed do. I always appreciate your time and attention because, let's face it, there are things like this on the Internet. (Yeah, I still find that funny. What of it?)

Emily (@emilyin140)