Latest news with #FrenchandSaunders


The Guardian
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘The first time I'd seen fart jokes that were actually funny': comedians on their cultural awakenings
The Young Ones arrived at exactly the right time. I was 15, and a weird mixture of studious and smart but also disruptive in class. I was also extremely virginal – both fascinated and terrified by the idea of having sex and in no danger of doing so for another half a decade. I was basically Rick. My parents were strict – my dad was the school headteacher – so I can't think why they let me stay up late to watch it. Maybe they just wanted me out of the way so they could get on with other things. What drew me in right away was how silly it was. A lot of the comedy I'd liked had been clever stuff that was almost snooty, like Monty Python or Derek and Clive. The Young Ones was rude. It was the first time I'd seen slapstick and fart jokes that were actually funny. My generation missed punk, but The Young Ones had a similarsense of anarchy – a 'do it yourself' spirit, with a cavalcade of ideas being thrown at the screen. The alternative comedy scene – as well as the Comic Strip and French and Saunders – felt new and very galvanising. In the same way the Sex Pistols made anyone feel as if they could pick up a guitar, The Young Ones made me feel like I could make a living out of making people laugh: it didn't matter if I was a regular kid at a comprehensive school in Somerset. This was a particularly important revelation, as my careers adviser had told me that I should give up on being a writer and work in a bank. Watching The Young Ones episodes on repeat to learn the lines by heart, I learned about the rhythm and language of comedy. Plus, I discovered that if you could do a good impression of one of the characters, you'd get a laugh at school the next day. I loved Rik Mayall. He was a handsome and sexy figure, but not afraid to make himself look ridiculous. He continued to inspire me throughout my life. Years later, as a comedy writer, I wrote some scenes for him in the sitcom Man Down, but he died before they were filmed. I was on the toilet when I heard the news. I cried, both upset that someone I loved had gone, and sad that I'd no longer be able to work with one of my heroes. The Young Ones was a show that parodied idiotic students, a bunch of men who didn't want to grow up. Neither did I – and, thanks to The Young Ones, I didn't have to. As told to Harriet Gibsone Richard Herring's RHLSTP is at The Stand Comedy Club, 30 July to 10 August. A year ago, I was in the pit of a perimenopause crisis but I didn't fully know it. I didn't know there was an explanation for feeling depressed, suicidal, confused, exhausted and generally ill. Then I read Davina McCall's book Menopausing. The idea behind the book is simple: Davina went on to social media and got people to send their menopause stories. I listened to the audiobook while I was travelling around gigging, and heard lots of different readers voicing their stories, interspersed with Davina's chats with a doctor, who gave useful information about what was going on in these women's bodies and minds. There are people in the book who left their careers because they couldn't cope intellectually or emotionally. It just seemed crazy to me. A woman who has spent 25 years of her life building up her career shouldn't just have to walk away because she's too scared to say: 'I don't know what is going on. I'm losing words. I'm losing the ability to be in the present moment because of brain fog.' Davina's book helped me to understand that I had reached a stage that was actually quite serious. So I went ahead and pushed my case with my doctor. After reading the book, I was able to say: actually I'm not depressed – I'm losing parts of my cognition due to fluctuating hormone levels. Most of the time, the doctor just asks: how's your sex drive? But most of us experiencing perimenopause don't care about sex at that point. I was more worried about staying alive, how I'd perform in my job and how words weren't coming out of my mouth correctly. Being able to tell my doctor what was wrong was really important. I was given testosterone as well as oestrogen, and that was extraordinarily helpful. All of it has made me committed to trying to show up in my performances a bit more. I need to keep practising, keep exercising my brain. There has always been something so special in the art of live performance and being able to stay present – even if it means saying I forgot what I was about to say. Having Davina say that she'd gone through this was a big thing for me. So I'm always pushing her book to friends, to spread more awareness and bring the issue to the light. As told to Miriam Gillinson Desiree Burch: The Golden Wrath is at Monkey Barrel Comedy, 28 July to 10 August. Growing up as an only child and a drama kid, I was probably quite annoying. I was always coming up with ideas and characters, but I wasn't the type of kid to say: 'Come and look at what I've done!' Instead I would do parodies of teachers or characters from the television in the privacy of my bedroom. One Christmas, at primary school, I finally got the chance to stand on a stage and show everyone what I could do. It was the nativity play, and I was playing the part of the innkeeper. I only had one line, which I've since forgotten, but I remember that when I said it, people laughed. I liked that feeling so much that I said it 10 more times. It flicked a trigger in my brain: I wanted to do this all the time. I just didn't quite have the skills to do it yet … Then when my mum took me to see panto at Theatre Royal Stratford East, I was amazed and began to understand, at six years old, what it meant to properly put on a show. Not only was I impressed that there were children on stage – that this was something a young person might be able to do – but there was so much more to it than funny lines. There were theatrics, lighting and comedy characters, such as the famous pantomime dames. Michael Bertenshaw, one of our most famous dames, was very inspiring. I loved his massive hair, the bloomers and the songs – but mostly that he knew exactly how to get an audience on board. After that, I'd go to the panto every single year. Even though I knew what was coming next, the predictability made the chase scenes, the misunderstandings, the 'He's behind you!' jokes even funnier. I loved there was a baddie, and that you could boo and hiss at them. I remember going to see Dick Whittington and thinking: 'I am so incredibly jealous of everyone who is doing this for a job.' Now I do get to do it as a character and sketch comic. To go to panto aged six, and see a show on such a big scale, with props and costumes, I realised that this is what you need to do to be properly engaging. Instead of, say, repeating the same line 10 times at the school nativity play. As told to Harriet Gibsone Kiell Smith-Bynoe and Friends: Kool Story Bro is at Pleasance Courtyard, 15 to 22 August; String v Spitta, with Ed MacArthur, is at Assembly George Square Studios, 15 to 17 August.


The Guardian
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘The first time I'd seen fart jokes that were actually funny': comedians on their cultural awakenings
The Young Ones arrived at exactly the right time. I was 15, and a weird mixture of studious and smart but also disruptive in class. I was also extremely virginal – both fascinated and terrified by the idea of having sex and in no danger of doing so for another half a decade. I was basically Rick. My parents were strict – my dad was the school headteacher – so I can't think why they let me stay up late to me watch it. Maybe they just wanted me out of the way so they could get on with other things. What drew me in right away was how silly it was. A lot of the comedy I'd liked had been clever stuff that was almost snooty, like Monty Python or Derek and Clive. The Young Ones was rude. It was the first time I'd seen slapstick and fart jokes that were actually funny. My generation missed punk, but The Young Ones had a similarsense of anarchy – a 'do it yourself' spirit, with a cavalcade of ideas being thrown at the screen. The alternative comedy scene – as well as the Comic Strip and French and Saunders – felt new and very galvanising. In the same way the Sex Pistols made anyone feel as if they could pick up a guitar, The Young Ones made me feel like I could make a living out of making people laugh: it didn't matter if I was a regular kid at a comprehensive school in Somerset. This was a particularly important revelation, as my careers adviser had told me that I should give up on being a writer and work in a bank. Watching The Young Ones episodes on repeat to learn the lines by heart, I learned about the rhythm and language of comedy. Plus, I discovered that if you could do a good impression of one of the characters, you'd get a laugh at school the next day. I loved Rik Mayall. He was a handsome and sexy figure, but not afraid to make himself look ridiculous. He continued to inspire me throughout my life. Years later, as a comedy writer, I wrote some scenes for him in the sitcom Man Down, but he died before they were filmed. I was on the toilet when I heard the news. I cried, both upset that someone I loved had gone, and sad that I'd no longer be able to work with one of my heroes. The Young Ones was a show that parodied idiotic students, a bunch of men who didn't want to grow up. Neither did I – and, thanks to The Young Ones, I didn't have to. As told to Harriet Gibsone Richard Herring's RHLSTP is at The Stand Comedy Club, 30 July to 10 August. A year ago, I was in the pit of a perimenopause crisis but I didn't fully know it. I didn't know there was an explanation for feeling depressed, suicidal, confused, exhausted and generally ill. Then I read Davina McCall's book Menopausing. The idea behind the book is simple: Davina went on to social media and got people to send their menopause stories. I listened to the audiobook while I was travelling around gigging, and heard lots of different readers voicing their stories, interspersed with Davina's chats with a doctor, who gave useful information about what was going on in these women's bodies and minds. There are people in the book who left their careers because they couldn't cope intellectually or emotionally. It just seemed crazy to me. A woman who has spent 25 years of her life building up her career shouldn't just have to walk away because she's too scared to say: 'I don't know what is going on. I'm losing words. I'm losing the ability to be in the present moment because of brain fog.' Davina's book helped me to understand that I had reached a stage that was actually quite serious. So I went ahead and pushed my case with my doctor. After reading the book, I was able to say: actually I'm not depressed – I'm losing parts of my cognition due to fluctuating hormone levels. Most of the time, the doctor just asks: how's your sex drive? But most of us experiencing perimenopause don't care about sex at that point. I was more worried about staying alive, how I'd perform in my job and how words weren't coming out of my mouth correctly. Being able to tell my doctor what was wrong was really important. I was given testosterone as well as oestrogen, and that was extraordinarily helpful. All of it has made me committed to trying to show up in my performances a bit more. I need to keep practising, keep exercising my brain. There has always been something so special in the art of live performance and being able to stay present – even if it means saying I forgot what I was about to say. Having Davina say that she'd gone through this was a big thing for me. So I'm always pushing her book to friends, to spread more awareness and bring the issue to the light. As told to Miriam Gillinson Desiree Burch: The Golden Wrath is at Monkey Barrel Comedy, 28 July to 10 August. Growing up as an only child and a drama kid, I was probably quite annoying. I was always coming up with ideas and characters, but I wasn't the type of kid to say: 'Come and look at what I've done!' Instead I would do parodies of teachers or characters from the television in the privacy of my bedroom. One Christmas, at primary school, I finally got the chance to stand on a stage and show everyone what I could do. It was the nativity play, and I was playing the part of the innkeeper. I only had one line, which I've since forgotten, but I remember that when I said it, people laughed. I liked that feeling so much that I said it 10 more times. It flicked a trigger in my brain: I wanted to do this all the time. I just didn't quite have the skills to do it yet … Then when my mum took me to see panto at Theatre Royal Stratford East, I was amazed and began to understand, at six years old, what it meant to properly put on a show. Not only was I impressed that there were children on stage – that this was something a young person might be able to do – but there was so much more to it than funny lines. There were theatrics, lighting and comedy characters, such as the famous pantomime dames. Michael Bertenshaw, one of our most famous dames, was very inspiring. I loved his massive hair, the bloomers and the songs – but mostly that he knew exactly how to get an audience on board. After that, I'd go to the panto every single year. Even though I knew what was coming next, the predictability made the chase scenes, the misunderstandings, the 'He's behind you!' jokes even funnier. I loved there was a baddie, and that you could boo and hiss at them. I remember going to see Dick Whittington and thinking: 'I am so incredibly jealous of everyone who is doing this for a job.' Now I do get to do it as a character and sketch comic. To go to panto aged six, and see a show on such a big scale, with props and costumes, I realised that this is what you need to do to be properly engaging. Instead of, say, repeating the same line 10 times at the school nativity play. As told to Harriet Gibsone Kiell Smith-Bynoe and Friends: Kool Story Bro is at Pleasance Courtyard, 15 to 22 August; String v Spitta, with Ed MacArthur, is at Assembly George Square Studios, 15 to 17 August.


The Guardian
16-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Kathy Maniura: ‘I've played a paper straw, a nervous smoke alarm and now a middle-aged cycling man'
Why did you get into comedy?I've always loved making people laugh. I was raised on a diet of sketch shows (French and Saunders, Mitchell and Webb, Monty Python) and took any opportunity I could to be silly for an audience. I have a vivid memory of a very elaborate performance of We Three Kings for the Year 5 talent show ('sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, DYING!') – I won. I'm drawn to big, playful characters – wigs, costumes, silly voices. At uni I started doing sketch comedy and never really stopped. How would you describe what you do?Gentle absurdity. It's a silly good-natured sending up of recognisable things. In my last show, I brought to life a series of inanimate objects – including an annoying Californian paper straw, a pathetic electric scooter desperate to be unlocked, and an incredibly anxious, sensitive smoke alarm. My new hour merges this kind of absurd character comedy with drag. I'm pretending to be a middle-aged cycling man, complete with Lycra bulges, devastating divorce, outrageous income and zero emotional intelligence. What inspired the show?I used to cycle to work through central London, wearing jeans like a normal person, and I'd be overtaken by these guys all kitted out in the gear and I would just think to myself … surely, surely they cannot be cycling much further than me. Where are they going? From their central London flat to their slightly more central London office? Why won't they put their feet down at the traffic lights? Are they OK? Around a similar time, I became aware of drag kings as an art form (like drag queens, but performing heightened masculinity instead). I was so energised, inspired and amazed watching the iconic drag king collective Pecs and the Man Up! competition. It's such an exciting, varied, DIY, punky art form and I started to wonder if I had a drag king character in me. The two ideas combined, and The Cycling Man was born … What's been one of your all-time favourite gigs?Sometimes the weird gigs are the most unexpectedly fun. Last summer I did a spot at a small festival. I was with some brilliant comedians (Rosalie Minnitt, Lorna Rose Treen and Emily Bampton). We turned up and the person on the stage before us was giving a very earnest presentation about his research into arctic foxes. Getting into drag in the cold backstage area of the tent listening to the lecture I thought, ah – they may not be in the mood for absurd character comedy after this. How wrong I was! The audience were wonderful, and all the more wonderful for defying our expectations. That's a pro and con of the job – you never know quite what you're going to get until you turn up for a show. Can you recall a gig so bad, it's now funny?When I was doing a show with my comedy partner Derek Mitchell, we booked a spot at one of the stages on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. It's the main flyering thoroughfare during the fringe and there's an open-air stage for acts to perform a snippet of their show. Lovely, in theory. Except what does well on that stage is juggling and a cappella singing, not alternative sketch comedy. I performed a solo piece – a wordy parody song. It was raining. The small crowd quickly dispersed. Derek laughed his head off as the light left my eyes while I continued to perform. There were two other people watching under an umbrella – my parents. Any bugbears from the world of comedy?There's still a lot of unpaid and poorly paid gigs, many of which you travel for and, while the Edinburgh fringe itself is still seen as a rite of passage, it's becoming prohibitively expensive. Many working-class comedians can't do it. A lot of comedy spaces are inaccessible in other ways – male dominated, all white, in basements or upstairs in old pubs. It puts comedians in marginalised groups at a huge disadvantage in an industry that's already hard work. Worst advice you've ever been given?A prospective agent once said to me that if you have a day job you like, you're a 'hobbyist'. Actually, creative work doesn't have to be torture, and I think the idea that creative brilliance is born of hardship and that you have to give up everything to pursue your dreams is actually pretty toxic. That person did not become my agent! What's an important lesson you've learned from being a standup?To try and fail! The only way you get better at comedy is by saying a joke out loud, in front of people, and seeing what happens. Once you've bombed a decent number of times, you learn that dying doesn't actually mean dying. Kathy Maniura: The Cycling Man is at Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh, 30 July-24 August


Daily Record
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Record
Dawn French apologises after 'mocking tone' in Gaza video sparks fury
The Vicar of Dibley actress has issued a statement after sparking backlash with a video about Gaza Dawn French has apologised after posting a video online about the Israel-Hamas conflict. The Vicar of Dibley actress said she "clumsily used a mocking tone" in the video shared on social media this week that "appeared one-sided". The comedian shared a video about the conflict online where she used a baby-like voice to discuss the ongoing devastation in the Middle East and the justifications used by people supporting Israel's campaign in Gaza. The video has sparked backlash online after getting 4.7million views, with the actress being accused of mocking victims. In the video, she said: "Complicated, no, but nuanced," adding: "Bottom line is, no." Continuing in a higher pitched voice, the 67-year-old said: "Yeah, but you know they did a bad thing to us." On Saturday (June 7), Dawn, who wrote and starred in the BBC sketch comedy series French and Saunders with her best friend and comedy partner Jennifer Saunders, posted a statement on X saying she has taken down the video. She expressed her apologies, saying her intention was never "to mock, or dismiss, or diminish the horror of what happened" on October 7, 2023, when Hamas killed some 1,200 people at a music festival in Israel. "Ok, it's important to address this," French wrote. "I posted a video in the style I've been using for social media in an effort to convey an important point. I clumsily used a mocking tone. "My intention was NEVER to mock, or dismiss, or diminish the horror of what happened on 7 October 2023 and what continues to unfold from that brutal unthinkable, unforgivable, savage attack. "My heart broke for the many innocent people and their families that were killed, tortured, raped and kidnapped. The fact that hostages are still held is utterly appalling. "My intention was to mock and point the finger of shame at the behaviour of the cruel leaders on ALL sides of this atrocious war, who have continued to behave like the worst, dangerous, sickening bullies and seem to relish the tyrannical and childish one-upmanship of the violence. "THEY were my target, but clearly I failed to do that, and that's on me. I apologise unreservedly. "I'm particularly sorry that my disgust at Hamas didn't figure. It appeared one-sided, and that is wrong." She went on: "I am a person, who like many others, is feeling increasingly helpless and hopeless as we witness the carnage and destruction worsen. The images of starving and wounded children have haunted me day and night. "History has taught us never to stand by and allow this kind of inhumane violence to be wrought on anyone, especially innocent children. "I have felt my silence is complicit or even somehow sanctioning. So in my small way I wanted to voice my desire to say NO – to BOTH sides – to any further violence. "I hope you will understand my intention was not to offend, but clearly I have. For which I'm sorry and I have removed the video." At least 54,607 Palestinians have reportedly been killed in Gaza and more than 125,000 have been injured between October 7, 2023 and June 4, 2025, according to the Ministry of Health (MoH) in Gaza. Join the Daily Record WhatsApp community!


Daily Record
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Record
Inside Dawn French's quiet life after ditching £6.6m mansion
The actress sold her home in 2021 for £6.6million. She's an icon known for her roles in the The Vicar of Dibley and French and Saunders, but now, Dawn French has traded showbiz for a quieter life closer to the Devon-Cornwall border. The 67 year old decided to leave behind the picturesque town of Fowey when it reportedly became "too cool and trendy" for her liking. Dawn called Cornwall home for nearly 20 years, however the actress has bid farewell to her 15-bedroom manor house with stunning views after putting it on the market for an impressive £6.6 million in 2021 – tripling her initial investment from 2006. The star was born in Wales but left her substantial property in search of a more peaceful setting within the quieter parts of the Duchy. Dawn now enjoys the tranquillity of a secluded Cornish village with her husband Mark Bignell, with stunning waterside views far from the hustle and bustle that descend on Fowey during peak season, writes The Mirror. In 2006, Dawn moved into a Grade-II listed house in Fowey with her then-husband Sir Lenny Henry and their daughter Billie, before their marriage came to an end in 2010. She then went on to tie the knot in 2013 with her current husband, Mark, a therapist, and decided to stay in their shared home. The much-loved comedian has become an advocate for Cornwall's breathtaking scenery and its culinary scene, frequently praising local eateries for their "unpretentious" atmosphere and delicious food. Dawn often shares a lot of her life online and often walks on Par Beach, which is not only picturesque but also dog-friendly, making it a perfect spot for walks with her beloved pet. One of Dawn's favourite spots for a meal out is Edie's Kitchen in Carlyon Bay, just a short distance from where she used to live. She took to social media to praise it as the pinnacle of her dining experiences that year, lauding the restaurant for its "unpretentious, fresh, tasty good-lookin' grub". In September 2018, national treasure Dawn caused a stir among patrons at Edie's Kitchen when she popped in during the filming of the third series of her hit show Delicious. The Hidden Hut in Portscatho is another gem Dawn holds dear, hailed as one of Cornwall's hidden treasures. It has received praise from celebrities like Rick Stein and Alice Levine and even played host to global leaders during the G7 Summit in 2021. Back in 2017, Dawn posted a stunning photo of a misty morning walk on Par Beach with her cherished dog. Dawn, known for her irresistible charm and sharp humour, took to Twitter in 2019 to flaunt her affection for Cornwall with a playful jab. Alongside a photo featuring her pet against the picturesque coastal scenery, she quipped: "Cornwall. Ghastly." Fast forward to 2024, and property prices in Cornwall have skyrocketed, with the average home now fetching £299,000, stats from the Office for National Statistics reveal. Join the Daily Record WhatsApp community! Get the latest news sent straight to your messages by joining our WhatsApp community today. You'll receive daily updates on breaking news as well as the top headlines across Scotland. No one will be able to see who is signed up and no one can send messages except the Daily Record team. All you have to do is click here if you're on mobile, select 'Join Community' and you're in! If you're on a desktop, simply scan the QR code above with your phone and click 'Join Community'. We also treat our community members to special offers, promotions, and adverts from us and our partners. If you don't like our community, you can check out any time you like. To leave our community click on the name at the top of your screen and choose 'exit group'.