One of the biggest problems with blogging for this site is that I can’t be entirely truthful. Blogging, twittering, and facebook updates are always written with the reader in mind. As a comic you’re trying to be entertaining but also remain jolly and positive so that people are more inclined to come and see you on tour (autumn dates are here), and at the Camden Fringe in three weeks time (book here for Christs’s sake!!!! These are my only one man show dates in London this year!!!!!)
I’ve realised how much time I spend name-dropping and making out my life is a whirlwind of fun gigs and TV recordings when it’s actually filled with lots of worry, panic and self-doubt. Those familiar with my act will know the latter qualities make up a large proportion of my material. Maybe those of us who make a living as performers should spend less time shamelessly self-promoting and more time telling the truth about a career where one moment you can be a a big thing on telly and, within a year or two, you can be ‘The Krankies‘. If you’re an actor you can make a major TV series and then not work for two years leaving you desperately trying to survive while putting up with questions from friends and family about ‘when are we next going to see you on telly’. People outside the business seem to think there are only a few actors and comedians swanning around choosing which jobs to do rather than tens of thousands of them all fighting to get a dwindling number of decent roles. So many times I’ve nearly got a great job, only for it to slip through my fingers at the last moment.
I had this feeling last week. I read a script for an audition that was absolutely wonderful. If I’d got the job, I would have made the pilot which I’m sure would have got a series. It’s a very very good script. The sort of role that could have transformed my career and given me a boost off the circuit. For various reasons, I didn’t read that well. I don’t know why – sometimes things don’t click or they don’t choose to read the part of the script that you particularly love or you’re too stressed. Anyway, I didn’t get it and so a great opportunity slips through my fingers. People in normal jobs go through this disappointment every few years when they go for a new job or a promotion; actors and performers go through this many times a year. No wonder most of us are psychologically unstable.
Having moaned I maybe should point out that a professional stand up can worry less than most performers as at least they know that, with comedy being so successful, they will always have some sort of live work to rely on. I cannot however tell you that I will have many more TV appearances or whether my next tour will be bigger than the one I’ve got planned for the Autumn. There are no guarantees of success. Only a series of opportunities that must be grasped fully or else regretted for the rest of your life.
Not quite sure why I’m being so sombre as I’m due to record on ‘The Rob Brydon Show‘ for BBC2 next week. I’m doing a short slot but really need to hit it out the park if I’m to get those figures up for the tour. In an age where a good stand up appearance on TV can transform a comic’s career (see Kevin Bridges and John Bishop), I have to produce. I’m off now to play Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’ to inspire me. It’s all about taking chances and contains the line, ‘You only get one shot!’ He’s talking about his one chance to get out of the trailer park and make a life. I suppose I should be happy that my one shot is to get out of the suburbs and into a nice house in the country. Actually I haven’t got just one shot – I’m middle class so I have several! I’ve just realised I’m nothing like Eminem and am being offensive comparing my situation to someone who’s really trying to drag themselves out of poverty. Yet again, I display a breathtaking ability to get things out of perspective. I really am a self-obsessed twat, or to put it another way, I’m a comedian.
