I saw Omid Djalili on Question Time last week. I had only half an eye on the show, but it seemed he was doing what you’d expect of a comedian (a mainstream one like Djalili, at any rate) on the BBC’s Question Time: making people laugh and wearing his political opinions lightly; using his skills – humour and ease with the audience – to make his points seem sensible, attractive. Not going toe-to-toe with the politicos, but playing the role of the un-spun outsider.
Djalili is not Russell Brand, of course: he isn’t a “comedian and campaigner” (Brand’s billing), and he hasn’t set himself up as the figurehead of a looming revolution. But it was still striking how un-comedian-like Brand appeared on last night’s Question Time. And what little use he made of his abundant skills as an entertainer.
Practically the first thing anyone notices about Brand is his verbosity, so something was clearly wrong from the get-go: he mispronounced “adversarial” several times. His other salient characteristic as a comic is his flamboyant self-love, but that was absent here, too. Brand seemed nervous, uncomfortable. Usually, he is a preening peacock; here, his tail feathers were tightly furled.
I’m not saying he didn’t make an impact. I agree with most of what he has to say, and I’m glad he was on Question Time – in the heart of the establishment – saying it. But in terms of his performance or identity, he looks caught between two stools. In one heated exchange with Tory MP and rude-word imp Penny Mordaunt, he sought to absolve himself from political responsibility by saying, “I’m just a comedian!” Elsewhere – and rather weakly – he answered a question about why he doesn’t stand for parliament, explaining: “I’m scared I’d become one of them.”
But, judging by this appearance, that process is already under way – and self-inflicted. Here, Brand dodged awkward questions – specifically, the one about why he discouraged people from voting – with the trained evasiveness of a veteran minister. Elsewhere, he too easily slipped into politico-speak, the flag-wrapping bromides of the vote-currying scoundrel, calling privatised education “another shameful slur on our great nation”, of all things.
Notwithstanding Brand’s fine line about his being a “pound-shop Enoch Powell”, Nigel Farage escaped pretty unscathed. Which is galling: the Brand that comedy-watchers know should be wiping the floor with such a blatant shyster. I sympathise with Brand’s dilemma. By his good luck or judgment, people are suddenly looking to him for answers, or for political inspiration. He doesn’t want to disappoint. He doesn’t want to be easily written off as a loudmouth dilettante. So he is trying to be, and look, serious. But is he, in the process, slinging the baby out with the bathwater? Isn’t it possible to be well informed and serious about the state of the nation while being swashbuckling, irreverent and honest – a comedian, in other words – too?
Three to see
John Cleese
While we wait for the mooted musical version of A Fish Called Wanda that he is co-writing with his comedian daughter, Camilla, here is the Fawlty Towers man on an is-it-a-show, is-it-a-book-tour perambulation round the UK.
• EICC, Edinburgh on 13 December; Cadogan Hall, London, on 14 December; then touring.
Robin Ince’s Christmas Science Ghosts
Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without one of Ince and friends’ science-worshipping comedy cabarets. There are three this year, focusing on the Past, Present and Future of civilisation, with Mary Beard, Ben Goldacre and others alongside a crack cast of comics.
• 15 to 21 December, Bloomsbury theatre.
Joel Creasey
“Creasey is also known as Acid Tongue Prince,” Wikipedia tells us, which gives us a fair sense of what to expect when this hot-shot Aussie standup comes to town – fresh from a NYC run, where he opened for the late Joan Rivers.
• 15 to 22 December, Soho theatre.
More comedy coverage
Comedians’ 10 best alternative Christmas cracker jokes
Chris Rock: ‘When we talk about racial progress in America, it’s all nonsense’
It took a comedian to call Bill Cosby to account
Kevin Bridges: ‘I prefer real to surreal’
A Show for Christmas review – schmaltz-free Yule sentiment from Daniel Kitson
