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My memory is getting so bad. I forgot to write this blog on the usual day and so had to do so two days after the event instead of one. It took me a good five minutes plus to think of anything that happened on the day in question. And it’s not like nothing happened. I went to a fucking film premiere. Thank God for this blog or I would have no recall of anything I’ve done in the last seven years. Though looking at older entries they are usually a surprise too. My memory used to be may stand out skill. I hate getting old.
I drove into London, listening to the audiobook of Doug Stanhope’s
most recent memoir (I am doing a zoom interview with him this week that will go out on Monday). It’s an amazing rollercoaster account of the year 2016, which wasn’t particularly good for anyone, but had a whole extra layer of (admittedly mostly self-inflicted) drama for Stanhope. He is so committed to comedy and being Doug Stanhope (the only other comic I think is comparable is Sadowitz, though one suspects his regular life is much more desolate, whilst Stanhope’s is filled with partying and friends, but still with the same yawning emptiness at the centre). I am not sure whether I should admire or pity him (but that’s his genius) as he wilfully self-destructs, but there is a weird innocence behind his nihilism and also a strong sense of decency hidden by his no-limits comedy (where he sees comedy as palliative even in the face of the possible imminent death of his partner). He is a champion of the ostracised and a selfish ridiculous idiot. It’s a tantalising and human combination and ultimately I admire him as something purer and more thoughtful than some of the more macho US shock comics). He’s amazing, but he’s also 55. I recognise a tiny sliver of myself in him, though I didn’t have the long term commitment nor the appetite for drugs, but comedians, like dogs, know each other, even when outwardly they appear very different. Am nervous but excited to talk to him for the podcast - we have met before but only briefly. Let’s see if I can do him and his contradictions justice.
The film I was seeing was “See How They Run” a comedy whodunnit built around the idea of a murder happening on the stage of the Mousetrap, which is a great idea, but (and the hat is tipped) one that was also covered in The Real Inspector Hound by Tom Stoppard (we did a production of this at school - so although I have never seen the Mousetrap, I have now seen two comedies about it). It’s a very enjoyable British film with lots of laughs and some brilliant performances - particularly from Saiorse Ronan - including Reece Shearsmith (who will be talking about the film on next Monday’s live RHLSTP - sold out, but you can buy tickets to the live stream http://gfsboxoffice.com) and timkey (who doesn’t once use his magic flute, true to form). It’s camp and knowing and whisks along at a pace - maybe too much of a pace. I’d like to have seen a couple more murders and for them to have made a bit more of the denouement scene, but that’s just quibbling. It’s well worth your twelve pounds.
