Review 51 – How I Escaped my Certain Fate by Stewart Lee

One of the golden rules of comedy is “if you have to explain a joke, it isn’t funny.”

It’s fair to say that whilst Stewart Lee is one of the most established comedians around, he isn’t a stickler for the rules. Lee doesn’t do panel shows, he’s never tried to fill the O2, he doesn’t seem to like his audience much and boy does he go to great lengths to explain his jokes.

How I Escaped My Certain Fate is the first of two volumes Lee has released that feature heavily annotated transcripts of his stand up shows.

In fact, heavily annotated is an understatement. On the average page, just a quarter will be taken up with a snippet of the show. The rest will be a lengthy footnote that stretches onto and devours the next page too.

(As an aside, I remember feeling very grown-up the first time I read a book that had footnotes. They said ‘sophistication’, ‘intelligence’ and  ‘academia’. Or rather, that’s the impression they left with me. I don’t actually remember what the footnotes were.

So How I Escaped My Certain Fate isn’t the most natural way to experience a stand up show, but it is a great read and an incredibly insightful glimpse behind the comedian’s curtain.

Lee doesn’t do one-liners or observational skits. His routine is built around a general cynicism and knowing dislike of everyone he comes into contact with – including his audience. He’s well known for lengthy repetition, holding imaginary conversations with himself and ending his shows curled up in a far corner of the stage rocking back and forth.

Not only is his style incredibly refreshing – and very funny – it’s the result of a hell of a lot of graft.

The annotations and footnotes reveal in great detail how much thought, hard work and fine-tuning goes into creating each show. What can seem like a very chaotic routine is a carefully mapped out voyage, expertly captained by Lee.

Whilst How I Escaped My Certain Fate is most likely to appeal to Lee’s loyal fanbase, I also think there’s plenty in it for those that aren’t fans or indeed, actively dislike him. Very few comedians would have the skill, patience or inclination to produce a similar tome, so if you’re after a sophisticated, intelligent and academic study of comedy, Lee is your man.

(A further volume is planned based on his BBC Two series, Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle. Given the publishing date has already slipped from last year to this autumn, one can only imagine it will again be a thoroughly rewarding read.)

Review 43 – The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex by Mark Kermode

I still haven’t seen any of the Lord of the Rings movies. Quite a feat I know, and all the more impressive given I’ve recently spent a year living in New Zealand, perhaps the only country that can claim millions of people own a boxed set of DVDs promoting its beautiful landscape.

The reason I’ve yet to commit half a day of my life to Peter Jackson’s award-winning trilogy is that I’m yet to read the books, and have always said I would do this first before I watch the films. However, as I have no desire to spend an eternity reading a load of gubbins about wizzards and trolls (that’s what they’re about, right?) I don’t suppose I will ever get round to the films.

The reason I mention this is that I know I am not alone in wanting to ‘read the book’ before ‘watching the film’. People generally want to experience things in their original form and as the author intended, rather than be introduced to it through a different version. This is where Mark Kermode’s new book The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex comes in.

As a long time listener of the good doctor’s weekly film review programme on BBC Radio 5 live, I found the book rather familiar as at first glance it appears to be a compilation of Kermode’s most frequent rants about the current state of cinema.

Anyone tuning in on Friday afternoons will already be aware that Dr K thinks 3D is gimmick doomed to failure (for the umpteenth time), that the demise of the projectionist is in direct correlation with a decline in cinema standards and that Danny Dyer is a plonker.

What I was hoping for from this book was a more detailed and thoughtful analysis of these issues, and unfortunately it only partly suceeds. It begins well enough with an incisive history of 3D cinema and the later discussion on why English speaking cinema-goers don’t like subtitled films is very interesting indeed. However amongst this are far too many rehashed discussions from the radio show and a painfully long section describing word for word a frustrating trip to a multiplex.

I’ve been to see quite a lot of stand up comedy this year and have grown used to the fact that comedians only really do one show’s worth of new material each year. Catch them twice in the space of twelve months and regardless of whether it’s a solo show, part of a comedy night or a TV appearance, the chances are you’ll hear jokes repeated. On the whole, we’ve come to accept that comedians write between 60-90 minutes of material each year.

Kermode may not be a stand up, but in order to get a book published for a mainstream audience, he’s required to fall back on his current ‘routine’ and forgo the more specialist material that one might expect from a film critic. In this respect the radio show is far more enjoyable because as well as the now legendary rants, you’ll always hear a few nuggets of insightful criticism.

The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex is a fun read but rather like a movie adaptation of your favourite novel, I’ll always prefer the content in its original form.

For more Kermodian fun…

Classic rant number one.

Classic rant number two.

For the record… hello to Jason Isaacs, David Morrissey, Fairport Convention etc…

Review 38 – The Fry Chronicles by Stephen Fry

Quick witted, frightfully intelligent and incredibly talented; does anyone have a bad word to say the national treasure™ that is Stephen Fry? Yes, actually. Stephen Fry does.

For much of the 464 pages of The Fry Chronicles, the author is self-effacing, self-deprecating and incredibly apologetic for all that he is and has acheived. There’s on old joke I love – the original author of which I forget – that goes “I used to think I was my own worst critic, until I heard my friends talking about me”. Well, Mr Fry certainly doesn’t feel the same way.

Perhaps this modest style is necessary for all autobiographies. After all, who wants to read about someone infinitely more talented and successful than themselves for hours on end if they can’t at least seek solace in the fact that the subject is actually deeply unhappy? Then again, maybe you shouldn’t be reading autobiographies at all if this is an issue, as they do tend to be about talented and successful people [insert Shane Ward/Frankie Boyle/Kerry Katona joke here].

Certainly Fry’s achievements in comedy and entertainment over the years are something to admire and stand in awe of. Then again, I can feel a little bit smug knowing that I’ve written more blogs before the age of thirty than he ever did.

I saw Stewart Lee performing at a benefit gig last night and he described Fry as being – and I forget the exact words – “what passes for an intellectual on a panel show” – referring to his work hosting Q.I. I felt this was a little harsh but perhaps in a world where fame is achieved by a five minute appearance on a talent show, we assume Fry’s intelligent and articulate manner is more exceptional than it actually is. Hark back to the time of the Bloomsbury Set and would a man who has written a few passable – but nonetheless enjoyable – novels, plays and TV shows be ranked as the nation’s smartest man?

I’m playing devils advocate here as I really enjoyed The Fry Chronicles just as I did its predecessor Moab is My Washpot and I’m thoroughly looking forward to the next part of his story.

For a bit more Fry…

I begrudginly point you in the direction of his blog.

Bahhhhhhhhh!

For the record, Stephen Fry ends the book with his first dabble in the world of Class A drugs. I’ve always wondered, how do celebrities get their drugs? Do they wander aimlessly through Soho waiting to be offered some by a barely audible street dealer or do they send a lackie to do it? I suppose we’ll find out in volume three of his autobiography.

 

 

Review 21 – @ThisisPartridge

Aha! One of the first public figure to suggest high-visibility clothing for people manning temporary car parks is now on Twitter.

“It’s Alan Partridge here, booming a big shout-up to the MySpace Generation. Twit me.”

It may have taken him a little longer than some of his talkshow rivals to join the tweeting revolution (Jonathan Ross joined nearly 4 years ago and even Michael Parkinson has had a profile since 2009) but Alan Gordon Partridge has finally arrived; back of the net!

It’s not only with personal interest that I’ve been following his tweets this past fortnight, having been a huge fan for – crikey – well over a decade. Unashamedly, Partridge has joined Twitter in order to boost sales of his forthcoming autobiography and so it provides a great example of social media marketing in action.

Will the following updates help Norwich’s finest broadcaster become a number one bestseller?

“Can’t decide if I prefer the hardback, paperback, Kindle or audio version of my forthcoming book – I, Partridge: We Need To Talk About Alan.”

“Wouldn’t normally recommend buying 4 versions of the same book, but in this case it really is the smart thing to do. http://amzn.to/nrj/Vou“

“Skinflints trying to buy the paperback will have to wait a few months – an appropriate penalty for their ridiculous penny-pinching. lol”

Almost certainly. Setting up an account for the Partridge character engages potential buyers in a way that Steve Coogan or the publisher could never have achieved on their own.

As well as what can loosly be described as sales messages, Partridge serves up plenty of his unworldly wisdom and observations. Twitter’s 140 character limit does not appear restrict the veteran broadcaster’s ability to conjure up hilarious vignettes of Norwich life.

“Just been to my local cafe. They sell individual Club Biscuits, one of the few places that do. What is happening to our heritage??”

“Hey everyone. How’s it hanging? Hope your weekend was ace. Mine was good on both days.”

I currently look forward to updates from @ThisisPartridge above anyone else in the Twitterverse and I really hope he hangs around long after the release of his new book.

For more Partridge fun…

Forget the beer, enjoy the chat at Fosters Funny

Get ready for Partridge the Movie?

For the record, my favourite Partridge scene of all time is his attempt at a homemade zombie costume. Well, that’s my favourite right now, tomorrow it’ll be different, then again the day after.

 

Review 15 – Dave Gorman vs. The Rest of the World

My main reason for reviewing Dave Gorman vs. The Rest of the World is not simply because I’ve recently finished reading it, but because I was so struck by a particular chapter in it that I felt compelled to blog about it.

Before I get to that, here’s a brief summary of the book. Dave Gorman has – by his own admission – too much time on his hands and decides to use Twitter to arrange ‘play dates’. He asks:

“Does anyone play any games? Real games, not computer games. Would you like a game?”

So begins a journey that takes him around the UK to play strangers at their favourite games, ranging from the well known (Cluedo) to the obscure (Toad in the Hole) and pretty much anything and everything else in between.

Now we’re up to speed, what about the chapter that prompted this entry?

Well, about halfway through the book there is a standalone chapter in which the author’s agent insists he pops into his office to meet with a TV exec. Having heard about Gorman’s game-playing adventures, the exec is keen to develop the idea into a new TV series. When Gorman says no, the exec doesn’t understand. Surely the only reason for Gorman doing this is to develop it into  his next ‘thing’? (His previous ‘things’ being Are You Dave Gorman, Googlewhack Adventure and America Unchained.)

Incredibly, Gorman is adament that he is playing games for no other reason than to entertain himself.

He makes this statement halfway through his 344 page book about these adventures.

He makes this statement halfway through his 344 page book which retails for £11.99.

I was baffled. As I continued reading, I kept expecting this meeting to be referred back to at some point. Of course I understand why he did decided to document (and monetise) his adventures, so why include that chapter? Why make it look as though this wasn’t going to result in something, be it a book, TV show or tour?

I finished the book, but I still don’t understand.

Find out more about Dave…

At his official website

In THIS excellent podcast with Robin Ince and Josie Long.

For the record, I did really enjoy this book (as I have all of Gormans to date), I just don’t understand that chapter.

Review 1: Exit Music by Ian Rankin

Ian Rankin’s most famous creation, Inspector Rebus, has been a fairly constant feature in my life over the past year.

It was a wet and windy afternoon in Wellington (a city not unlike Rebus’s own Edinburgh) when I dived into the excellent City Library and picked up the first installment in the 17-novel series, Knots & Crosses.

Immediately hooked by the easy style of prose, grisly details and well-constructed mysteries, I’ve spent the last twelve months getting to know the maverick Scottish detective and thoroughly enjoying his adventures. However all good things must come to an end and upon finishing the final page of Exit Music, a chapter in my own life had also drawn to a close. Rankin had long warned readers that Rebus would retire at the age of 60 (as is customary in the Lothian and Borders Police Force). So, writing at a rate of one a year and setting each novel around contemporary times, it had been known for a while that this would be the final Rebus novel.

Strangely, it comes as something of a relief to have now read every Rebus adventure. I always felt I was just a click of a mouse or an overheard snippet of conversation on a bus away from finding out how the series would conclude and was very keen that I get to the last sentence without already knowing whether Rankin had chosen to kill off his leading man (see Colin Dexter).

With this in mind, I won’t spoil it for anyone else (though I do not intend to keep all reviews spoiler-free). What I will say is that this final outing ranks among the best of the Rebus canon. From it’s suspense-laden introduction (something Rankin has really improved at with almost each novel), along every twist and turn, and right through to the conclusion, Exit Music is a thoroughly satisfying and exciting read.

Whilst there was clearly something that hooked me in the early Rebus novels, it is the past half a dozen or so that I have enjoyed the most. In comparison the earlier books can feel formulaic, overly dependent on stylised structures and at times downright confused*. None of these criticisms can be leveled at Exit Music which sees Rebus bowing out in top form.

So there we have it, the first review. Let’s be honest, it wasn’t really much of a review was it? However, it meant I spent some time today writing and thinking (and thinking some more then re-writing and re-writing) and that’s pretty much what a blog should be. Here’s to the next review tomorrow!

For a bit more about Ian Rankin and Rebus, check out:

Ian Rankin on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs – HERE

Ian Ranking coming to an Oxfam near you – HERE

The obligatory Wikipedia Page – HERE

*For the record: I loved Hide and Seek, Black and Blue and everything since Resurrection Men but have less fondness for the novels in between. The Falls and Dead Souls were my least favourite.