He styles himself “the people’s comedian”, so no wonder that, when artificially elevated above the common man, Jim Davidson revolts. On Saturday night, the “nick-nick” gag-man was due to play The Regal in Evesham. But “approximately four minutes” after arriving at the venue (according to the Regal manager), Davidson left and then cancelled the gig. The reason? The stage was too high. “ I couldn’t stand on it,” Davidson – who claims to suffer from vertigo “a bit” – later tweeted. “Simple as that. Sorry.”
The damage done to Davidson’s alpha male self-image shouldn’t be terminal. But the story doesn’t say much for his sense of comedy: a more opportunistic comic might have built a whole gig around his anxiety at this uncomfortably lofty stage. But Jim’s funk – and his subsequent comment, “It’s a lovely venue but not for standup comedy” – does raise the question: is there such a thing as a too-high stage for standup? And indeed: what’s the optimum elevation for comedy performance?
The night after Davidson’s cancellation, Ross Noble was on a high stage in Brighton. High enough, at any rate, that Noble spent the first half joking that, from where he was standing, the front row looked like heads without bodies, or like nosy neighbours peering over a fence. He got into a chat, too, with a woman one row further back, who complained that her neck was sore from having to look upwards at the gig. All gifts to Noble’s impro-comedy, of course, but also an indication that the Concert Hall at the Brighton Dome would probably fail Davidson’s “not for standup” tape-measure test.
The idea that some stages are too high draws on the sense, presumably, that a comedian needs to see the whites of an audience’s eyes. (Here’s hoping – for his own sake, of course – that Davidson never graduates to arenas.) Certainly, there must be a significant psychological difference, for both comic and audience, between gigs when the comedian towers over us, and gigs where she’s on the level and we’re looking down at her from raked seating. The former confers high status on the comic; the latter casts us as Caesar, and the comic as the gladiator nervously awaiting our thumbs up or down.
I suppose there’s no negotiating with a fear of heights. But these days most comedians display an avid appetite for new ways of positioning themselves vis-a-vis their audience. Comedy in the Dark, coming soon to Leicester comedy festival, kiboshes visual contact altogether. One recent experiment found comedians performing their set alone and in a separate room from their audiences, who listened via speakers. Another found Simon Munnery (who else?) sitting in the audience, live-streaming footage of himself on to the stage. In that context, Davidson’s “too high for standup” conservatism seems, well, a bit low-horizoned.
Three to see
John Shuttleworth
Sheffield’s indefatigable amateur organist is back on the road, with a show paying homage to his neighbour and manager Ken Worthington. All your favourite tunes are promised, alongside newbies such as Midweek, Visiting Time and “the hilarious rock’n’roll footstomper” Early Tea. Can’t wait.
• Artrix Bromsgrove (01527 577330), 3 February; Weymouth Pavilion (01305 783225), 4 February. Tour details.
Luisa Omielan
Omielan, the force of nature behind smash-hit What Would Beyoncé Do?, returns to Soho with her new show, Am I Right, Ladies?, a characteristic (and pretty irresistible) mix of standup, confessional and self-help seminar.
• Soho theatre (020-7478 0100) until 7 February.
Leicester comedy festival
All sorts of goodies are on offer at Britain’s second biggest comedy festival: the finals of the UK Pun Championships, an exhibition celebrating the life of Norman Wisdom, and a whole host of Edinburgh-bound works-in-progress, including a debut solo standup show from Pappy’s lord of misrule Tom Parry.
• Leicester comedy festival, 4 to 22 February.
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