Richard Herring - Hitler Moustache

It was nice of Richard Herring to show up to one of the last shows of his Hitler Moustache run still with the Hitler Chaplin toothbrush face fuzz. And Charlie Chaplin's suit by the looks of it. He had the appearance of a lesser cast member in Reservoir Dogs, "I don't wanna be Mr Heliotrope". I was really looking forward to it, having been a fan since Fist of Fun.

The Coliseum is a fairly small venue, only seating a couple of hundred people at most, but it was pretty much full. The average age of the audience was probably mid-30's-early 40's with a few outliers, more towards the younger end of the spectrum. Halfway through the first half two guys went out to go to the loo, prompting Herring to comment on this synchronicity to much audience merriment. The only thing missing was a 'nom nom nom' heckle when they returned, a few seconds apart. As an audience, we also seemed to be a pretty much left-leaning bunch, though I hoped that the Labour rosettes could have taken a break for a couple of hours and given us a break from the glut of campaigning going on.

The first part of the show ranged from Michael Jackson's death to the history of the moustache he (Rh, not Michael Jackson, though that could've been quite interesting) was wearing. This part included the now controversial section (mis)quoted by the Guardian's Brian Logan where Herring uses the words, "maybe the racists have a point." In fact, this is an almost forensic deconstruction of the absurdity of racial prejudice, delivered with a great deal of righteous anger and passion; just as importantly, it is very funny.

The second half of the show covers subjects Chaplin's The Great Dictator, the contents of a BNP election flyer and Carol Thatcher's infamous One Show green room faux pas.

It's all stitched together with a mix of the profound and the puerile, which is pretty much Herring's trademark and stretches back to TMWRNJ, Fist of Fun and Lionel Nimrod days. I pretty much knew what the political complexion of the show was going to be before I went, and turned up expecting some edgy, but intelligent, material. That's what I got. And how. Herring (like his erstwhile partner Stewart Lee) is a real craftsman, technically hugely adept, working the audience and building a good rapport with us, as well as the laughs, through the show.

The show is building up to a single focus, of course, but what? Well, during the discussion of the BNP's flyer Herring talks about the last European elections and the low turnout. Basically, he wants people to vote, and not to waste that which has been hard-earned by many others in our history. What could be more high-minded and laudable than that, other than to throw a few good cock jokes in there too?

After the gig I got a programme signed, as well as a copy of The Headmaster's Son. I also made a fairly weak crack to Rich about Whitby being not quite as shit as Middlesbrough (because that's where his Gran lived). But, given that he didn't know I'm from the Boro (why the hell would he?), it probably just sounded a bit mean-spirited. Still, according to his blog, he seemed to enjoy the show, even though the journey up was a pain. I also overheard the woman he mentioned (politely) complaining to him about the paedo gag. I'm not quite sure she entirely got the point.

All Apologies

I was wandering through the supermarket at lunchtime and just happened to see a copy of the Sunday Post, which had a story on its front page about Jermey Clarkson, following up the story earlier in the week about his remarks about Gordon Brown and his subsequent apology.

After the Sunday Post's article, we are now very much clearer on JC's position. He was sorry for mentioning the one-eyed thing, didn't have a problem with the Scots per se, but would 'never apologise for calling him an idiot'. You've got to laugh.

However, as usual, the press response to what was, after all, a joke was utterly hysterical. And the sight of George Foulkes on BBC News wondering why he wasn't being sacked were unedifying to say the least. Perhaps George, you might concetrate on something slightly more pressing than someone telling a joke in Australia you didn't like very much.

But of course, the tabloids have scented blood. Currently they're on the backs of anyone who utters a single word that is not utterly devoid of wit or personality. Remember, these are the same tabloids who routinely use their pages to spout some of the most malodorous effluvia. Clarkson, for example, hasn't said anything that any staff writer at the Sun or Daily Mail hasn't committed to paper previously. For the tabloids to then scream at the likes of Clarkson (or even Carol Thatcher) for being intemperate is quite hllariously hypocritical.

Besides which, if you look at what he said, you'll notice that JC called Gordon Brown a "one-eyed Scottish idiot". At this point it's probably easier to point out that the first two of these words are adjectives, describing the third word, which is a noun. And I don't think that there's any necessary correlation between adjectives one and two; the fact that he is monocular is not connected to him being either Scottish or an idiot. That is merely cheerful happenstance it seems.

And they didn't really mention what he said about James May and Frenchmen. Both of these things were also funny.

But there you go, that's the press for you. We deserve everything we get because enough of us still buy and consume their shit.

Message to Comedians: Beware Geordies and Filipina Maids

The Filipino government rather seems to have got a bee in its bonnet over this story today about a sketch in Harry and Paul a couple of weeks ago. Apparently the British ambassador in Manilla was summoned to explain the sketch. What, didn't they get it? It's terrible when you have to explain jokes to someone, isn't it?

For those not aware of Harry and Paul, let me explain. The show contains a running sketch with a 'nice' southern, suburban family and their misadventures with their pet, Clive (note to BBC story, not Clyde). But Clive isn't a dog. he's a wild-haired, pyjama-clad Geordie who looks like a permanently bewildered care in the community patient. A couple of weeks back the family went to have Clive put down because he was 'too old and ill', only to find there'd been a mistake and they could take him home, to their disappointment. So you see the point, the sketches are what families do with pet dogs say, but with the pets as people. This isn't high comedy is it? Not too hard to follow?

Incidentally, being northern myself, I can't say I'm hugely offended by the sketch's portrayal of northern men. This is for many reasons, but mostly I think because it is just a joke.

Anyway, the sketch that offended the Filipinos so much centered on the father of the family trying to get Clive to breed. He's clearly tried a fair bit already and so turns to the family down the road, who let him use their Filipino maid to try. So she dances for Clive and 'presents' to him, but to no avail. It's a funny, throwaway sketch, not as funny as the Raving Chocolatier perhaps, or the Radio 3-loving builders, or better yet the vintage film style segments (the Bourne Identity was a work of genius), but still funny.

So now, not only does the Filipino government have its knickers knotted, but the Philippine Foundation in the UK have supposedly called in a petition for the 're-education' of the BBC. Presumably using some of the methods left over from Ferdinand Marcos' time as president. I have to laugh, because they have even thoughtfully provided a clip of the sketch on their petition's website. And a link to the show on the BBC iplayer. Am I missing something here?

Why are people so bloody thin-skinned these days?