» Physical comedy
Victoria Nangle leaps into a new style of physical comedy – and it’s not just to amuse the slappers
The last time I contemplated physical comedy was after I’d been slapped in the face, so understandably I wasn’t hugely enamoured with the whole genre. It certainly amused the slappers – as it were – but left me cold and with many less than articulate words being shouted at a higher than average volume as my assaulters made their rapid escape. Now, having watched a great deal more comedy, I’ve got to say I can appreciate the power physicality can add to any given gag.
“You don’t have to dash across the stage to be good”
One of the most delightful single episodes of last year’s Paramount Comedy Festival was Michael McIntyre’s joyous combination of the leap and the skip. ‘Skeeping’ rapidly from one side of the Dome’s Concert Theatre to t’other this simple demonstration of physical comedy had me holding my sides in laughter, and even experimenting with this wonderful style of transportation myself upon leaving the theatre, which again resulted in bounteous amounts of laughter. Using your body to make others laugh doesn’t just mean hitting someone else or simply mugging at the audience. Some comics create an entire environment simply by using their body to react to the limitations this imaginary place has suddenly placed upon them. Omid Djalili had a great time being stuck in a box earlier this month, in stark contrast tohis earlier demonstration of jubilation with his all embracing belly dancing. A man who moves with such blatant enjoyment can’t help but make others want to have fun along with him. It’s like hanging out with the gang that are laughing uproariously at the bar. You just know they’re having the best fun around and by golly you’re going to have some of that. Or at least that’s why I like hanging out with funny friends – they’re always so much fun!
Physical comedy is almost like getting a second opinion that this is funny. The comic has committed their whole body behind this joke, to such an extent that if I only find it worth a smile when they say it, by the time they’ve expressed it fully – waving arms and all – it’ll definitely have progressed to a guffaw.
Conversely, if a comedian doesn’t get behind their material – hovering at the back of the stage and trying to disappear into the stage backdrop – it can make the audience question whether the comic thinks it’s any good. Fiddling with the mic lead and constantly checking your pockets hardly inspires a great belief that what’s being said is the most important thing around.
You don’t have to dash across the stage at speed to be good, but comics do have to invest every little bit of their physicality into their performance. Otherwise why would we believe it?
