FEATURES

From service station sandwiches to supporting Stephen Merchant, the Welsh funnyman tells Fiona Morrison about life in comedy’s fast lane.

When I’m driving I sit side-saddle like I’m a riding a horse at a show-jumping event. The worst thing about being a comic is spending an unhealthy amount of time in a very dirty Ford Focus Estate. I know far too much about service station sandwiches. If I could never eat another service station sandwich for as long as I live, I’d be a very happy man. Driving 30,000 miles a year is pretty annoying. I would love never to drive again.

Making people laugh with an idea I’ve come up with that day and knowing it’s going to be really strong material is the best thing. I’ve loved comedy since I was a little kid, so occasionally when I’m watching my favourite sitcoms like ‘The Office’ and ‘Alan Partridge’ I’ll be thinking: “On some level, I’m part of comedy, this is my job.” I realise those people are doing what I’m doing and I feel very privileged.

My instinct becomes more refined the more comedy I do, and people respond really positively. When I was really young I did a gig at The Hatchet in Bristol and some guy from Swindon stood up and shouted: “You have lost control! This needs to end and this needs to end now!” It’s a bit of an out-of-body experience. It’s like being criticised for your work by your boss but in front of all your colleagues and a room full of strangers. You can’t just hand in your notice or ask to see people in HR. You’ve got to reply with a joke.

Bristol feels like home turf because I used to live in Cardiff. I did last year’s show at The Hen and Chicken as well. I really love that place. Steve Lount promotes it: he’s been brilliant – he’s so devoted to comedy and putting on a really good night. I’m also supporting Steve Merchant on his tour. I love ‘The Office’ so getting to spend time with Stephen is a real honour. The great thing about those gigs of Stephen’s is that the audience is nice and attentive so you can tell stuff that’s slightly longer that you would in a rowdier weekend club where people are all drunk and throwing chicken wings at each other.

I really like telling stories. The show is largely stuff from childhood and first-time experiences. My mum realised that not reading me a bed-time story as a kid was a far more effective punishment than sending me to my room or giving me a smack. From when I was really little I’d love hearing and telling stories, so doing the first-time experience stuff is a rich theme to have in mind for shows.

Watching my dad watching ‘Blackadder’ at 13 was a life-changing moment. He was laughing so much he couldn’t put the cup of tea to his mouth and either spat it out or spilled it. Over the course of the half-hour programme there was this great lull and I decided I wanted to make people laugh like that. Every few minutes he’d say “I’ll make another cup” but never actually did. I just remember watching that and thinking it was really special.

I used to do impressions of Margaret Thatcher which my parents and grandparents found hilarious. I guess that’s when I started performing. I’d imagine that the impression itself was very disappointing, but I guess the humour was me trying to do Margaret Thatcher in the first place. I must have liked the attention.

“Someone who followed a very dodgy path in his early to late twenties and ended up dead but with a very good credit rating,” is how I’d like to be remembered. I’m really enjoying writing a couple of shows for radio at the moment – I’d love to do more of that in the future. I’d also like to write a TV sitcom and the most perfect, most impressive comedy show for Edinburgh festival. Although I’m really proud of my shows at Edinburgh so far, I’ve always thought I could do better. Bristol’s one of my favourite towns to do an acoustic gig in – as long as nobody shouts “you have lost control!” I’ll be a very happy man.

ELIS JAMES WAS AT THE HEN & CHICKEN, BRISTOL ON FRI 2 AND SAT 3 DEC. CHECK http://www.thecomedybox.co.uk/ FOR DETAILS OF FORTHCOMING EVENTS.

Copyright Fiona Morrison 2011