Today I answered the door dressed in my tuxedo. I was on my way to a gig, so was dressed in the suit that I wear in my comedy act. The man at my doorstep was collecting for charity. He didn’t seem at all surprised that I was wearing a tuxedo. I assume he thought that this is how British people normally dress when lounging around at home. After all, this is Hollywood, where people conform to stereotypes.
Ive always enjoyed the stereotypical views that Americans have of the English.
Perhaps the most frequent remark people make is about the accent.
“You sound so intelligent”
“I feel so educated talking to you”
And this was just from me ordering a pizza.
Another misconception about us Brits is we have no teeth and that we are perpetually miserable.
I know at least two English people this doesn’t apply to.
Of course stereotyping can occasionally work in your favour. I recently got cast as an English Butler in ‘Californication’, so I can’t really complain.
 | |
| As Alfred the Butler in Californication |
Being British in Hollywood is a big plus. That’s what my manager said.
If you are a comic in the US you have a manager. They are supposed to give you advice on your career and for that service they take 15 –20% commission from your work.
Of course much of the advice managers give can seem slightly odd to an Englishman.
Last week, I was chatting to some fellow comics backstage after a gig. One particular comic had been advised by his manager to ‘dye your hair and lose 20 lbs’ as he believed this would make him a funnier on stage. The comic in question was seriously considering this as a reasonable piece of advice.
My wife didn’t agree with this and made the following point:
‘You don’t need to be good looking to be funny. Think of all the funny comics out there who aren’t. Him for one - (pointing at me).
The comedy business operates very differently here.
It is a hugely competitive environment. Comics from all over the world come to LA and have a go at cracking it’s secret code. The gigs pay little and comedy clubs make you jump through a lot of hoops before they even let you to onstage for an unpaid 5 minute set in front of 10 people.
When I arrived I had already been a stand up for over 20 years, I had a few worthy TV credits and a role in a Harry Potter movie. I was finalist in the US reality show Last Comic Standing too– the only overseas act ever make the final show. I went on to perform a 63 date tour in virtually every state in the US. But in LA this doesn’t impress anyone.
I had to start over.
So I asked my manager at the time -Isaac Horne of Avalon Management to get me some spots in LA clubs. One such venue was The Laugh Factory - a club I had visited a couple of times as an audience member and to me it seemed like the best room in LA.
After waiting weeks. Isaac informed me that he had failed to get me any spots at the Laugh Factory since I was “too old” and they were only interested in younger comics.
So I fired Isaac Horne.
I called the club myself and was told I would have to turn up at the venue the following Tuesday and line up outside just for a chance to perform 3 minutes material for the owner, Jamie Masada. If he likes you he will invite you to perform in front of the waitresses whilst they are setting up for the main show.
I arrived at 3pm, two hours before sign-in. and there were already a long line of comics forming ahead of me. This wasn’t looking good plus I had my huge double bass in tow and the 100F heat was making her creek and warp.
Eventually a Laugh Factory employee emerged and said she would take the first 15 comics.
I was number 16.
So I said,
“Any chance of squeezing me in? I’ve come all the way from London for this”.
“You’ll have to come back next week”
UK club Jongleurs was never as hard as this. Although I remember once Maria Kempinski the owner saying to me after my umpteenth failed open spot “You look like you are going to be funny but you never are”.
This kind of rejection paved the way for a future in the harsh world of comedy. Assisted by comic Dave Cohen’s reasonant words: “Keep going until it no longer hurts”.
I assume he was referring to comedy..
After lining up two more times at The Laugh Factory I eventually got seen. On walking through the door Jamie Masada said “I know who you are buddy, welcome to Hollywood”.
It was then I realised jumping through hoops is a part of the filtration process for comics in Hollywood. Venues get bombarded with talent from all over the world – all of them waving their precious credits and referrals.
Jamie went on to say he was not aware of Isaac Horne and Avalon Management and he had never even spoken with them before.
Two years on and I'm now a regular headliner at The World Famous Laugh Factory. I see it as a kind of barometer of American comedy. Here I test out what works and what I have to ‘bin’ for my shows on the road.
My heroes occasionally pop in too, like Steven Wright and more recent names like Louis CK and Dave Chappelle.
Breaking Hollywood is seen by many as the ultimate test, but thanks to Jamie Masada, The Laugh Factory and a healthy amount of stereotyping, I am rather enjoying the challenge.
