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Being an ‘unpredictable’ comic like Freddie Starr is a privilege enjoyed only by men. It’s run its course

Erratic comedians may boast talent in spades, but there is danger in giving people too much licence in allowing them to believe their skills absolve them of any bad behaviour

Jenny Eclair
Monday 13 May 2019 15:47 BST
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Comedian Freddie Starr dies aged 76

There is a word often used to describe comedians (usually of the male persuasion) that immediately makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The word is “unpredictable”, and it makes me anxious.

Freddie Starr, the comedian who died last week at the age of 76 and was found by his carer either slumped in front of the telly or naked, on the floor, depending on which paper you read, was frequently labelled “unpredictable”. So too was Michael Barrymore and a number of lesser-known comics – some of whom are still with us; many who aren’t.

Try as I might, I can’t think of a single female comic who has regularly been called unpredictable – why is this?

Could it possibly be because women aren’t allowed to get away with being “unpredictable”? An unpredictable woman in showbusiness would quickly earn herself the title “unhinged”, and the industry wouldn’t touch her with a bargepole.

All the women comics I have met who have lasted the course are hardworking, punctual and diligent. Many are extraordinary onstage, but very few outstay their welcome, decide that other comics waiting in the wings don’t matter and to hell with the running order anyway.

To be honest, I don’t really want to work with unpredictable people, geniuses or not. When I was doing the circuit back in the 1980s and 1990s, there were a few oh so anarchic names that would either rip the place apart or die on their arses.

Inevitably, some of these people became legends on the pub and club circuit but rarely, as telly became more corporate and cautious, did they make it into the big time. These days, money is far too tight for the unpredictable.

Back in the 1970s and 1980s, though, TV was more embracing of the volatile comic and, as a result, Starr became one of the highest paid live entertainers in the country. The big houses, helicopters and divorces soon followed. I’m not suggesting Starr didn’t deserve his success; he had talent, natural talent, talent in spades.

Starr might not be your cup of tea, but if you choose to watch him on any number of Youtube clips what shines through is a huge amount of charisma and energy. He’s also physically brilliant, and his timing is impeccable. Starr had funny bones; he had the agility of a dancer, crossed with the speed of a boxer.

I’m a sucker for old-fashioned comedy skills, I love seeing someone walk into a door properly – a good pratfall is worth its weight.

Personally, I suspect that some of these skills are not being practised enough, because whenever I do see them live on stage now I’m always surprised and delighted. You can power your way through as many Ibsen lines as you like, but if you’re going to really impress me then drop a tea tray on your foot and fall down a flight of stairs please.

Ability is not in question here, what unnerves me in any performer is a lack of discipline, to me it screams: “This will end in tears.” It’s also very tedious, it reminds me of doing telly shows and sitting in people carriers outside hotels waiting for the comic who can’t be arsed to get out of bed but is comedy gold once he gets on set.

And yes, in my experience, nine times out of 10, it’s a “he”, and if it is a woman, she’ll acknowledge she’s late and apologise. There is danger in giving people too much licence, in allowing them to believe that their skills absolve them of any bad behaviour.

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Once upon a time, over two decades ago, my partner was the art director of the TV Times and every year the magazine would host a fundraising carol concert at the Royal Albert Hall. It was the usually glitzy kind of do, with choirs and celebrity readings, and one year Barrymore was invited to perform a short stand-up slot. According to the old man, they were expecting some light-hearted japes for about 20 minutes as an interlude from all the singing, one of The Likely Lads had done a nice reading from A Christmas Carol which had gone down well earlier on in the evening, maybe Barrymore would do something equally festive and suitable?

Apparently not, Barrymore’s idea of guesting on a charity carol concert was to ricochet onto stage and proceed to cause mayhem, invading the audience, climbing up into the boxes, swinging from the curtains and generally goofing around, for (allegedly) four hours. Yup, the trouble with “unpredictable” people is that they don’t know when to stop. Now, for some audience members this is the stuff of folklore, this is anarchy. For the rest of us, this is really selfish and boring behaviour.

So at the risk of sounding really dull, forget “unpredictable”. What I want from a performer is “predictable” – someone who arrives on time, works their butt off and then goes home remembering to hand their dressing room key in at the stage door.

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