Laffin’ It Up in Dunedin: New Zealand’s small-town comedy and big-city success
July 20, 2009 23:07
By Susan Smirk
Laugh, snort, chortle, guffaw, crow, howl, titter, whoop, chuckle, giggle. Laughter is about the only medicine that we look forward to taking – a precious and scant commodity that we too often import from overseas. These days, though, New Zealand’s quaint but quality home-grown humour industry is beginning to win worldwide audiences. But do we at home appreciate our country comedians, the mirth they inspire, and the years they add to our lives?
An advertisement for laughter sounds much the same as any infomercial: it’s safe, easy to use, and you notice the results immediately. Studies have shown that laughter has an anaesthetic effect, can lower blood pressure, improve circulation, increase muscle flexion, boost the respiratory system by oxygenating the body, and also boost immune functions. But the really good news is that laughter even makes it possible to get a workout while sitting on the couch! A good belly-laugh exercises the diaphragm, contracts the abs, and works the shoulders, leaving the muscles more relaxed afterwards and giving your heart a workout as well. Laughter is also the perfect antidote to anxiety, reducing stress hormones and releasing endorphins. Who knew so many benefits could come from a mere respiratory upset caused by the epiglottis constricting the larynx? In fact, according to Raju Mandhyan, “The physical and psychological benefits of laughter come second only to the physical and psychological benefits of sex.” And, I might add, you can’t contract diseases from having a laugh with someone.
When the medical benefits of laughter are scientifically proven, you would think that those who pedal this miracle elixir would enjoy a privileged position in society. But, no: in a situation akin to the Medieval Court, laughter is usually supplied by strange folk known as “comedians,” the proverbial court jesters who roam the globe offering humour for little more than a bed for the night and a morsel of food. Perhaps it is a sad fact that we have to keep our comedians pathetically poor, in order to provide them a constant source of acceptably humorous material for their routines (I have a sneaking suspicion that the number of ginger comedians is disproportionately high for a similar reason). Comedians do seem to find material in their struggles. In fact, the entire premise for the Flight of the Conchords TV series is the pair’s failure to find success in the Big Apple, and during interviews Bret and Jermaine relate some similarly skint real-life situations, such as running out of money after paying their own way to a comedy gig in LA and having to stay with a obsessive fan who made them watch deleted scenes of LOTR to spot Bret’s 40-second cameo. We work our comedians hard, and perhaps this is why New Zealand often tops up the nation’s coffers of comedy with overseas talent.
As a remote island nation, we import almost everything that isn’t derived from sheep, but although many of our comic favourites are merry minstrels from far-off lands, it is undeniably true that we have spawned a few comic legends of our own. Although a perhaps worrying amount of Kiwi humour is sheep-related, our comic berth is a little (if only a little) wider than that. Nothing is quite so funny as humour from the inside – comedians from our own nation using their seamless wit and not-too-subtle satire to spotlight the things we’ve always known about New Zealand, but that we never realised were actually flippin’ hilarious! Aussie-Kiwi rivalry is also central to our day-to-day amusement. Linguistic disparity is central to the great Aussie-Kiwi exchange of mutual mockery, with the simple variation in vowels providing endless hours of laughter; “Fiish n Chiips” vs. “Fush and Chups” never grows old. However, we Kiwis are also willing to take a close, critical, and comic look at our own culture, disregarding the mantle of PC-ness bestowed upon us by post-modernity, and flagrantly speaking out in mockery of our own culture, politics, and celebrities with artful accuracy and self-effacing mirth. It takes skill to mock the core of Kiwi-dom without offending, and the delicate blend of daring and wit required is not easily achieved by the average Joe. Therefore we must acknowledge those blessed folk who have the gift for comedy that many dream of, and that many more attempt to utilise in a moment of drunken ineptitude, but that few actually possess.
First and foremost in the catalogue of Kiwi comic genius must always be Billy T James. James came to fame through his comic radio sketches and his role in the 1980 feature film Came a Hot Friday. Throughout the ‘80s he became a household name, known for the yellow towel, black singlet, and shorts of his skits. In 1986 he voice-acted Pawai in the animated Footrot Flats film, A Dog’s Tail, and continued on with his own show (The Billy T James Show) despite having a heart transplant in ‘88. He was best known for his irreverent portrayal of Maori, and his infamous “Maori Chuckle.” James died in 1991, but New Zealand’s premiere comedy award is given in his name.
Before Billy T, another character sang his way into New Zealand’s hearts. Fred Dagg (really John Clarke) satirised the stereotypical Kiwi farmer and became a national star and an icon of film and television. The records and cassettes Clarke produced as Fred Dagg included gems like ‘We don’t know how lucky we are’ in 1975, which actually made it to number 17 in the charts. Not unlike Billy T James, Dagg was recognisable by his black singlet and gumboots, and built his humour around an isolated rural town setting, where every bloke was a “Trev,” and a knock at the door warranted the soon famous line “That’ll be the door.”
Another group of entertainers particularly noted for social humour and satire are the Naked Samoans. In 1998 they started up with their first stage production called Naked Samoans Talk about their Knives, which appeared around New Zealand with sellout success. Offending a few as they dealt humourously with racism, alcoholism, violence, and suchlike, their popularity soon vaulted them into the (considerably less elite than Hollywood) world of New Zealand television and film. The Naked Samoans were the schemers behind bro’Town, which was our fine nation’s first adult animated show. Bro’Town won a number of shiny trophies and nice certificates in its time, always drawing an impressive line-up of guest stars. One member of the Naked Samoans, Oscar Kightly, also co-wrote the film Sione’s Wedding, in which they all starred. The film became the highest-grossing Kiwi film of 2006, making a $NZD3 million, but overall gained more media attention from the piracy scandals that surrounded its release.
Our small but proud film industry has had reasonable success; long before Sione’s Wedding was the New Zealand classic Goodbye Pork Pie (1981), and we’ve since offered the world Tongan Ninja (written by Jemaine Clement), Black Sheep, and Eagle vs. Shark (also starring Clement). It seems that we Kiwis are at last making our bid for world domination by infiltrating international media. The hit TV series Flight of the Conchords took “New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk comedy duo” and made sure them an international hit. Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement met at a Victoria University drama club in 1998, and after dropping out of Uni they began their comic career by simply trying to learn guitar and entertain a houseful of eight flatmates. They then took what was originally an irregular (but popular) five-minute act on the road and around the international comedy festival circuits, where they won the Perrier Award at the 2004 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Best Newcomer at the Melbourne Comedy Festival, and Best Alternative Comedy Act at the 2005 US Comedy Arts Festival. They produced a series for BBC’s Radio 2 which won a Sony UK Comedy Award, released a live comedy album called Folk the World, and an EP ‘The Distant Future’ which won a Grammy. The Conchords now work out of New York, having just recorded the second season of their HBO TV series, which they say hangs an increasing amount of its humour on Aussie-Kiwi rivalry (fingers crossed that the Yanks will catch on). They’re now considering the offer to make a third season.
Another Kiwi comedian also found his footing through this series: Rhys Darby, perhaps best known as band manager Murray, is making his way nicely in the world, having recently starred as Jim Carrey’s boss in the 2009 film Yes Man and also in The Boat that Rocked. Darby’s comedy routines are characterised by his incredible repertoire of robot noises (with accompanying mime) and a great skit about Buzz Aldren and bumper boats. He joyously describes the call with the invitation to host C4’s Rocked the Nation as “New Zealand wanting me back!” It’s a relief that he was so willing to return to us, although there is a considerable advantage in having internationally popular celebrities: it turns out that they are the perfect base for an instant friendship with an Italian hippie on a long night-time bus ride through the Israeli desert, as you share a tub of cheap chocolate spread while quoting endlessly from a repertoire of Conchord songs, startling other travellers with your loud renditions of ‘Business Time.’ Ahem. Anyhoo …
There’s another irrepressible Kiwi duo we can’t forget; The Topp Twins have been in the business of laughter for over 25 years. Folk-singing sisters Jools and Lynda Topp perform many characters, mostly famously Ken and Ken and Camp Mother and Camp Leader. The pair are not only well known for their colourful characters and country music, but also for being openly lesbian and for their support of the Breast Cancer campaign after Jools’ recent battle with the disease. The Topp Twins’ TV series ran for three seasons in the ‘90s, and in 2008 they made the New Zealand Music Hall of Fame. The Topp Twins toured nationwide this year to promote their April big-screen debut, a feature film called Untouchable Girls. The film broke all previous records for opening day and made over $1million within the first four weeks, proving that not only are New Zealanders dying for a good laugh, but that nothing beats home-grown humour.
So, how does one wade through the sheep-humour and become a comedian of substance in this small nation? In May, seriously overshadowed by New Zealand Music Month, is the New Zealand International Comedy Festival, where our own heroes of humour stand alongside some international laugh-masters to entertain the crowds in Auckland for three weeks. This is all well and good for those in the north, but hunkering down in the library to avoid the bitter Antarctic winds that haunt the streets, we in Dunedin are perhaps the most in need of a warming chuckle. Yet we seem doomed to source our funnies from foreign lands, or at least the far north. The Comedy Convoy, part of the NZICF, actually bypassed Dunedin for Invercargill last year, and Dunedin’s Fringe Festival, held in March, mainly utilises “Dunedin” comedians that are actually now based out of Auckland. Aside from this, our only option to get our comedic kicks seems to be settling in front of the TV, parking at the bottom of Baldwin St to watch chubby American tourists roll down, or stalking our musical mayor. Is this stolid southern city completely void of the heroes of humour we cry out for? Where are our comedians when we need them?
Kathryn Hurst, a Theatre Studies student at Otago (and author of Critic’s own “Obsessed with Scotland” column), speaks out on where in Dunedin you can stand up and be laughed at (or with).
The day that comedian Danny Bhoy deigned to extend his New Zealand tour as far South as Dunedin was a fateful one indeed. It was his show that led Hurst to wonder about trying her own hand at stand-up comedy. However, Dunedin nearly lost this comic gem, as Hurst came away empty-handed from a search to find somewhere in this city where budding comedians could ply their trade. Having found nothing, she did what no sane person ever does, and decided to start something herself: Academy Comedy Wednesday. The group Kathryn Hurst gathered after numerous recruiting efforts consists of (memorise these so you can drop names when they’re famous): Hannah Port, Bari Odgers, Sam Irwin, and Abz Ali. They picked the name “Anti-Social Tap” after a discussion about other activities stopping people from seeing their comedy night, one of which turned out to be the OUSA’s Social Tap class. Shame on you, you twinkle-toed socialites! Despite such distractions, their first show packed people into the Academy Theatre until not only the chairs and couches, but the stairs and floor as well, were filled. Those who attended will recall a refreshingly un-PC mix of jokes about everything from crime-fighting grandmas to John Key’s Jewish heritage, as well as a rather obtuse skit about a magic tennis racket. Their success since has continued, and for $3, any of us laughter-starved, stress-ridden souls can benefit from their natural comic talent at 7.30pm on Wednesday July 29, not to mention support one of the few stepping stones that exists for local comic talent.
So, how does one become a successful comedian?
“Persistence and a lack of shame as while grovelling at anyone’s feet to get a gig. Plus a sense of humor helps … It’s just a case of writing some jokes, practicing them up, and trying them out on an audience …
“If I was to be really honest, I would suggest to anyone not crazy enough to start up their own comedy night, that the only places in New Zealand where they will find the best opportunities to be a comedian are Auckland and Wellington. Dunedin doesn’t seem to have a very good history of opportunities… I want Academy Comedy Wednesday to be the springboard for a comedy industry in Dunedin. I’m hoping to expand so we can have more venues to perform in. I also want the comedians from Academy Comedy Wednesday to have the opportunity to perform in the Dunedin Fringe Fest next year, so we can start having some local comedy talent. The only way we can truly get some sort of recognition for a Dunedin comedy industry is if festivals like the Fringe Fest see our efforts as worthwhile.”
Hurst mentions a couple of opportunities she was aware of, such as the “poorly-promoted” (but apparently popular) comedy night OUSA ran last year at Refuel, and a show at the Fortune a while back, run by Otago Alumni Jeremy Elwood (now a professional comedian), which included an Open Mic session. The multi-talented Chick’s Hotel in Port Chalmers hosted its first comedy night last Friday night, with Auckland ringers Paul the Soviet and (ex-Dunedinite) Simon McKinney. If the enthusiasm is there, comedy nights could become a more regular fixture at Chick’s, possibly in a format that combines an Open Mic with a headline act. And there is always the eclectic mix of wit and wackiness offered every second Wednesday by Anti-Social Tap.
“If people come and support Academy Comedy Wednesday, they are supporting the potential for an art that hasn’t had much of a chance in Dunedin in the past to finally get the opportunity that budding young comics need if they want to enter the comedy industry professionally. And when it’s so cheap at $3 for an hour-long show, people should come along.”
Hurst characterises New Zealand humour as “quite laid back” and generally witty and dry, but ranging from the “in your face” to the “absurd and dry” and the ever-popular black comedy. On top of this, she credits Billy T James’ method of exaggerating and making fun of Maori stereotypes with influencing Mike King and the work of The Naked Samoans. Hurst thinks “Pacific Island humour is very strong in New Zealand, although it still needs more recognition. Pacific Island humour tends to make fun of the stereotypes developed by Westerners about Pacific Islanders and point out serious issues that affect the Pacific Island community specifically. New Zealand humour seems to have a broad range of different styles and I think this possibly has a lot to do with the kind of people in New Zealand. We are a multicultural country, which has influenced the NZ comedy industry heaps … I guess what characterizes New Zealand humour is that we are able to laugh at ourselves (more than the French anyway).
“Humour really is the backbone of society in terms of creating a kind of community amongst people. I’ve often found awkward situations are best destroyed by making a joke. It’s … simple science I guess: people are happy when they laugh, and happiness is nice!”
