Birds, Bees And Tee-Hees

The funniest comedians are physically unattractive. Discuss.

We were talking about comedians at work this week and being a shallow lot the discussion quickly moved on from merely which ones we thought were funny to those we thought were attractive. And it quickly became apparent – certainly from the males – that if they found a female comedienne attractive they tended not to find her very funny. But this was OK. This lack of comedy skill was forgiven totally provided there was the redeeming presence of a nice face, or nice tits, or a nice arse. Eye candy made up for all the comedy shortcomings.

And yet those comedians we (the men) deemed to be masters of laughter were all unanimously declared – by male and female alike – to be Hound Headed Troglodytes From Planet Ugly.

Or at the very least Plain Janes and Joe Averages.

Such a judgment seemed rather sweeping.

And it got me to thinking. Is it true across the board?

On the face of it, it seems to be. A quick example: I think Frankie Boyle and David Mitchell are the funniest things on the comedy circuit period. Witty, sharp, intelligent and frequently thought provoking. Everything I could desire in a comedian. But attractive? To anybody?

Surely not (though some of you may prove me wrong). Frankie Boyle by his own admission looks like one of The Proclaimers (which isn’t a good look even for a corpse) and David Mitchell is, well, er, very funny.

As for comediennes I find attractive, Lucy Porter would be top of my list. Petite, brunette, curvy, vaguely elfin in an early Kate Bush kind of way... she’s hot hot hot. I like watching her.

But she doesn’t make me laugh. Much. She raises the occasional smile and something else but that’s about all.

Jo Brand, however, I think is much funnier and well, there you go. Argument proved.

Or is it?

I think the possible explanation for this rather sexist dissection of who is good and who is not good at comedy is centered around gender politics in a different way. Being heterosexual I don’t, by and large, find other blokes attractive. Sorry, I just don’t. Instead I seek out other admirable traits in men. Intelligence, wit, a certain coolness, etc. As for women, well, I know what I like and I gravitate towards it.

But women’s humour is just different from men’s. Stand-up comedy isn’t as broad as people think. It’s the old French & Saunders thing. Women (mostly) found them very funny while us men (mostly) just didn’t get the joke. Because it was from a strong female perspective. It just wasn’t meant or pitched for us.

Is the converse true though? Do women not get bloke jokes?

Plainly they do. So are male comedians pitching their gags to a more universal audience while female comediennes pitch theirs to a stronger female demographic?

I’m confused. Maybe there is no clearly defined right or wrong answer.

It was interesting to note, however, that some of my female colleagues found Frankie Boyle and co. not only “not funny” but also not very attractive as well. They lost out on both counts.

How funny.

I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

But as long as everybody is happy and getting their laughter injections somewhere, does any of it really matter?

Bang! And The Dirt Is Gone...

Greatly enjoyed The Peter Serafinowicz Show last night, especially the Barry Scott pisstakes.

Trouble with lime scale? Just use Toilet Grenade! Pull out the pin, throw it into the bowl and BANG the dirt is gone!

His Chris Tarrant impression was likewise very impressive, capturing both Tarrant’s infuriating smugness as well as his many vocal idiosyncrasies. Though given the nature of his voice maybe that should be nasal idiosyncrasies?

The most disturbing sketch of all though was Sherlock Holmes spooning Dr. Watson in bed due to a bout of post-case-solving lust. I know Holmes liked the occasional fiddle but even so... the clash of pipe against waxed moustache was shudderingly sacrilegious. I bet Conan Doyle was turning in his urn. Or wherever it is he’s been laid to rest.

In terms of the show’s format, there are a lot of similarities with The Fast Show – lightening delivery, a mammoth turnover of ideas and sketches – though Serafinowicz tends more to the madcap than social commentary – and more characters than you can shake a jester’s stick at, with the whole thing brought (bang) up to date with constant reference to the host of Americanized cable TV channels that infect our lives, ridiculously flashy news items and badly directed television advertising...

In many ways it’s an ideal format for Serafinowicz’s many talents and one that can only work in his favour. Sketch misses the mark? No matter. Here’s another one to try. BANG and the dirt is gone!

And onto the next one...

Here’s hoping he can keep it up.

Ranking Frank

Thursday evening telly has received something of a boost lately with the return of Mock The Week. Produced by the same guys that gave the UK Whose Line Is It Anyway? it builds on a similar format to pit various comedians against each other in rounds designed to test their improv skills, stand-up abilities and ad-libbed responses to topical news stories.

It’s effing hilarious and I have yet to watch a single episode where I wasn’t howling out loud with unstoppable belly laughter. That’s no mean feat on a Thursday night; the fag end of the working week.

For me the stand alone star of the show is the formidable Frankie Boyle (though I love Hugh Dennis’s unassumingly dry wit too). With a Glaswegian accent as brutal as a head-butt in your kisser Frankie Boyle is beyond sharp. The man is viciously serrated at an atomic level (but in a good way).

Quite honestly, Frankie Boyle could split a surgical laser beam lengthways with a single quip. One wrong word and Frankie’s tongue could slice off the top of your head like Sylar from Heroes performing an ad hoc lobotomy.

The man is blisteringly funny. But even better he’s blisteringly intelligent. Week after week I watch in awe as he pulls topical news stories out of the air and reconnects them in ways that seem so damned obvious once he’s done it. After I’ve finished laughing my guts up the same thought constantly reoccurs in my head: why the hell didn’t I think of that?

The man is quick. 0 to 187mph in under 2 seconds. I actually feel sorry for the other guys he’s pitted against. They look clumsy and amateurish by comparison. It’s like racing a Bugatti against a Skoda. No contest.

Best of all the man is real. There’s utterly no bullshit with Frankie. He tells it like it is; he’d rather kick you in the teeth with the truth than sprinkle a load of Canderel lies over your tongue.

The man is absolute comedy royalty.

In fact forget Forest Whittaker as Idi Amin: Frankie Boyle is the last king of Scotland!


P.S. This is my 200th post. Huzzah!

A Few Funnies

It's been a long, tiring day folks... so here's a few second hand funnies found on the internet in lieu of me writing anything original, interesting or witty of my own...

Seen in a Coventry Factory:
Any member of staff who needs to take the day off to go to a funeral must warn the foreman on the morning of the match

Sign outside a church in Hemel Hempstead:
The last world war. Where and when will it be fought? St. Margaret's, Hartford Street on Tuesday 22nd February at 7:00 p.m.

On a church door:
'This is the gate of Heaven. Enter Ye all by this door.' (This door is kept locked because of the draught. Please use side door.)

Sign on a repair shop door:
We can repair anything. (Please knock hard on the door - the bell doesn't work)