Keir Starmer likes to be prepared – but when he goes off-piste at PMQs it’s pure adrenaline

Sticking to a script is reassuring but last week the Labour leader was spontaneous and had his best showing by far, writes Katy Brand

Spontaneity is part of the fun and it’s what the audience responds to (Getty)

I wrote here a few weeks ago about Boris Johnson using all the tricks of the trade any jobbing stand-up comedian knows, and using them to great effect. Until of course the joke wears thin and we see the paucity of actual material.

In showbusiness, you tend to get found out in the end if there is literally nothing of substance there at all. A sparkling personality will get you some distance, but after that, at the risk of sounding like Joan Collins, “you have to put in the work, darling”.

So I was interested to apply some similar entertainment world principles to Keir Starmer, because why not? It’s literally the only thing I’m trained for. When I first started performing live comedy I always wrote myself a full script. I would print it off, learn it, put on a costume and a wig, and take to the stage in some underground comedy bunker that smelt strongly of urinals, feeling that I had done the requisite preparation to deserve a laugh or two from the crowd. So I was always tightly scripted and prepared. I never went “off piste”, as we say when we improvise. I felt I owed the paying audience a clear sign that I had done my homework.

It was reassuring, this way of performing. But it could also be tight and inflexible – I couldn’t react to the crowd in any way, or adapt to something unexpected happening. As I performed more, I started to feel oppressed by my own work, tied to it in a way that felt restrictive. I saw other people’s shows and they seemed so much looser and better for it. It also looked like way more fun than I was having, which surely was the point. Why go into comedy if you’re not planning to have fun?

Then one day I was at work and I had a gig booking come in for that night. It was a really good gig – TV people often attended and the crowd always loved seeing something new or a bit different. I’d been wanting this gig booking for ages. But there was no time between leaving the office (yes, I worked in an office. Badly.) and getting to the venue. I had nothing with me – no costumes for my usual sketches. What to do? Say yes, and write something new that afternoon, piece together a costume from the high street, get on stage and just do as much of it as I could remember.

I scribbled notes literally on the back of an envelope in a bar after work. At the venue, I hurriedly poured a shot of Bailey’s down my skirt, rubbed my shirt in an old ashtray, ripped my tights, and stumbled into the lights, heart pounding, mouth dry, pure adrenaline in my veins and just blurted out whatever I could remember of my notes. And “Caroline” was born – a city worker on the verge of a breakdown after losing her job, drinking 17 Bailey’s Minis in a row and going on a three-day bender.

It was by far the greatest gig I had ever had and it remains so. It brought the house down, truly, and that is not always the case for me. I loved it – the rush was incredible. And suddenly I got it – suddenly I understood that although you need to do the work, you also need that dollop of showbiz on top – the danger of the spontaneity is part of the fun and it’s what the audience responds to. They can smell it. It changes the chemicals in the air. It unites the crowd. Johnson does this well. It’s the only thing he does well.

Last week Keir Starmer had his best showing at PMQs thus far. And the reason for that is for once he put down his notes, looked up at the lights with a gleam in his eye and delivered a spontaneous remark that cut right through.

When you are someone like Starmer – who wants to be prepared, whose whole career to date has been about diligently doing your homework so you feel equal to the task – it can be hard to suddenly go off-piste. I understand this. But oh boy – when you do it, heart pounding, mouth dry, pure adrenaline, you’ll find something new there and you won’t want to go back.

More of this, please, Keir Starmer – you’ve done the work, now give us some showbiz.