Paul F Cockburn asks if there’s such a thing as ‘disability comedy’ and whether disabled comedians still face unsurmountable barriers to a professional career.
Can disability be funny? Given all the stress and strains that disabled people face every day — thanks to inaccessible buildings, unreliable support services and genuine hostility — you might think not. Yet there are a growing number of disabled people who aren’t just looking for the funny side of disability; they’re making a career out of it!
So, is there something that could be termed disability comedy? “I think there is such a thing,” says Laurence Clark, who performed his ‘Health Hazard’ show every day during this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe. “I think disability is quite a ripe, natural source of comedy. Any subject where the public don’t know how to respond to it, or feel uneasy with it — that’s always good solid gold for comedy.”
Simon Minty is co-founder and co-producer, alongside Steve Best, of the regular Abnormally Funny People gigs at the Soho Theatre in London. “I remember having this debate at film festivals — what is a disability film? The definition that people came up with for that, which I apply to comedy, is that it is made, created or performed by someone with a disability. It’s not just about content; you can have a disabled performer who doesn’t do anything about disability as part of their act, or someone with a disability and that’s all they do.”
A QUESTION OF ACCESS
Modern British comedy first flowered in the “alternative” boom of the 1980s, and the decades since then have seen the growth of numerous comedy venue ‘circuits’, some of which lead into the nation’s television studios. But, if you have an obvious physical or mobility impairment, just how easy is it to make a career for yourself?
“The majority of comedy slots are in small comedy clubs,” says Laurence. “They still tend to be in basements, cellars, attics, above pubs — the sort of locations up or down lots of flights of stairs.” As Simon points out, however, a determined disabled ‘stand up’ will often just need to “bite the bullet” and accept the risks of being carried into the venue — the alternative, after all, is to lose the gig.
But it’s not just physical access; it’s fair to say that the most successful acts on the comedy circuit today, at least in terms of the number of gigs they do and the size of their audiences — are those with some television profile. “We still haven’t broken through into the wider media,” says Laurence. “You get the odd programme every so often, but they tend to be documentaries. I’ve been involved in a fair few myself and it’s great exposure, but, at the end of the day, they’re not designed to make people laugh.”
A SAFER ROUTE
However, documentaries do seem to be broadcasters’ preferred “safer route” to cover disability, Simon says. “We do get lots of (offers to do) documentaries and we’ve decided to turn them down for the time being, because they’re all about “Does disability and comedy work in front of a mainstream audience?” — and, frankly, we’ve done that!”
For Abnormally Funny People has its origins in just such a programme: back in 2005, when Sky wanted to show something different on disability, Simon suggested following a group of disabled comedians (plus Steve as the ‘token’ non-disabled act) putting on a show in Edinburgh. Such was the show’s success, Simon and Steve put together a sequel with new acts — punningly titled Abnormally Funny People Too — which in turn led them to set up the regular monthly gig at the Soho Theatre — recently names London’s best comedy venue.
“When we started doing it we took comedians from the circuit or from disability arts, so obviously it was already happening; people existed,” says Steve, denying they are ‘trailblazers’. “We were just the first to put it all together.” Simon, though, believes that they may have helped “push things” along: “Firstly, we’ve shown that disabled people can be funny; secondly, that there are aspects or ironies or curious things that happen about disability that are funny in themselves.”
AN EASIER RIDE?
Yet it’s fair to say that a lot of disability comedy is actually making fun of non-disabled people’s reactions and perceptions; is that not asking for trouble? “I don’t get much by the way of heckling,” says Laurence. “I do get it from time to time, but probably less than other comics. At the same time, I think I’ve got a harder job to win round the audience at the start; I have to convince them very quickly that it’s OK to laugh ‘at’ me. I have to work really hard, certainly in the first five minutes, to get them to a place where they feel comfortable with me.”
Nor is heckling a particular problem for those performing at Abnormally Funny People. “Because we are in a theatre, and it is a dedicated show, we very rarely will get hecklers,” says Simon. “But we do know acts who do mainstream gigs, as in big clubs like Jongleurs, and it happens. But if your act’s terrible and not funny, you’re going to get something.”
Steve believes that audiences may hold back a bit more with a disabled performer, but that doesn’t necessarily mean an easier ride overall. “I don’t think disability is going to get you any further on the circuit,” he insists. “You still got to do your dues, and that takes a long time. It’s very hard to move onto the properly paid circuit; that said, I think that if you’re good, then you’ll progress.”
TO THE FUTURE
Laurence has recently finished filming a BBC documentary on disabled parenting, which included coverage of his most recent Edinburgh show. “I’ve got a commission from London 2012, from the Cultural Olympiad, to make a new show about what is — and isn’t — ‘inspirational’,” he explains. “The funding is to make the show, to take it up to Edinburgh in a bigger venue and with a lot more money to promote it!”
Though Laurence and the likes of Francesca Martinez and Liz Carr now have a certain profile within the industry, it’s still not easy for disabled people to get started, but then Simon points out: “Steve’s been a stand up for 15-20 years on the circuit, very well established; it’s hard for anyone.”
“Because of access issues, there are a lot less opportunities for disabled people have a go, and that’s how every comic becomes good — the more you practice, the better you get,” adds Laurence. Determination, though, is the key: “When I started I did the clubs that I could get into, and found some open mic spots at disability arts cabarets and festivals — that sort of thing.”
Steve believes that it’s only a matter of time before disabled comedians make it into the mainstream, but — unless television, in particular, gets over its “worries” about disability — “maybe it’s a long way off still”. Yet the pair are confident that there are more disabled comedians out there. “We want to give more people more chances,” says Simon of the Abnormally Funny People gigs. “While we don’t want to lose the good people, we also think the good people should be earning a living elsewhere as well!”
MORE:
www.abnormallyfunnypeople.com
www.laurenceclark.co.uk
First published by Disability (now Access) magazine, October/November 2011.
