Yesterday, I was talking to someone about reviving the Malcolm Hardee Comedy Awards – I would not be involved in them.
Of course, few people have ever heard of Malcolm Hardee.
Fame, as they say, is a fickle mistress.
In the UK, who were the biggest and most-loved comedians of the late-20th Century?
Probably Morecambe & Wise.
Before them? Maybe Arthur Haynes.
Before them? Maybe Arthur Lucan.
But, younger readers might ask, Who WERE these people?
Arthur Haynes, Tommy Handley and Arthur Lucan?
Never heard of them.
Come to that, who the fuck was Arthur Askey?
Certainly, if you are my devoted reader in Guatemala, you will never have heard of them.
But massively famous in their lifetime is what they all were. In the UK. But now forgotten by subsequent generations in the UK. And still totally unknown elsewhere.
If you were born and brought up in China, India, Indonesia, the USA… none of those names ever meant anything even when they were at the height of their fame. Perhaps Benny Hill was more famous worldwide. There is a possibly apocryphal story that Chinese State Television interrupted their programming to announce his death. But do new generations remember him still in Shanghai or Guangzhou? I doubt it.
The annual Malcolm Hardee Comedy Awards ran at the Edinburgh Fringe 2005-2017.
Not a lot of people know that. Certainly not in Guatemala or Guangzhou.
I mentioned during the conversation I had yesterday that I thought there was a chance – perhaps an outside chance – that Malcolm Hardee might be remembered in the UK for much longer than other comedians who were ‘famous’ during his lifetime and who are nationally known today.
Come to that, given current events, memories of Malcolm might outlive the very existence of the UK.
Malcolm was not famous when he was alive – infamous in certain areas, yes, perhaps, but never famous.
He was totally unknown by the general public unless you mentioned to people of a certain age The Naked Balloon Dance on Chris Tarrant’s OTT in 1981 or 1982. Then they might remember the three-man act doing the perfomance; but not him individually. He was the one on the left.
His death in 2005 got lengthy obituaries in all the quality press but none in the popular tabloids. Because, although he was widely-known by the media and very influential in the comedy industry – Heavens! GQ even ran a fashion spread featuring Malcolm – not a man known for his sartorial elegance! – the general public didn’t know he existed.
My point yesterday was that the material and style of comedy acts date but vivid anecdotes of real people’s lives do not.
In my opinion, Malcolm was not a good stand-up comedian. In fact, you could hardly call him a stand-up comedian at all. Though he was a superb and much-underestimated MC/compere.
People always correctly said that Malcolm’s act was his life. He had maybe eight or ten jokes which he repeated over 20 or so years. But ask people about him and what do they remember first? Not the jokes but:
- the fact that, naked, he drove a tractor through someone else’s act at the Edinburgh Fringe.
- the fact that (with Arthur Smith) he wrote a good review of his own Edinburgh Fringe show and conned The Scotsman newspaper into printing it thinking it was written by their own reviewer.
If you see a stand-up comedy show from 40, 30, 20, even 10 years ago, the material has dated; the style of delivery has dated; the physical look of the whole thing has dated. Even Morecambe & Wise shows, the last time I saw one, are starting to date. And, sadly, surprisingly, younger comedy fans do not find even Tommy Cooper as funny as those who saw him years ago.
Comedians’ acts and material date badly and relatively quickly.
But wildly eccentric OTT life stories and anecdotes about rebellious characters do not date.
If anyone ever fully collates the OTT anecdotes about recently-deceased comic Ian Cognito, there is another performer whose legend and personality were arguably greater than his impact on the general public.
Successful comedians tend to be more mentally ‘together’ than the real wild card comics. People love the successful performers’ professional material, love their delivery. But they are less interesting off-stage.
When was the last time you heard a wildly eccentric anecdote about that brilliant on-stage performer Michael McIntyre doing something totally apeshit off-stage?
Malcolm Hardee could not walk from his home to the Post Office without five bizarre things happening to him – or causing bizarre things to happen.
Even the title of Malcolm’s autobiography I Stole Freddie Mercury’s Birthday Cake (yes, he did) is OTT and the story of him stealing it will possibly still be funny decades hence, long after people have forgotten who, Freddie Mercury was.
Well, maybe that’s not true, because the off-stage Mercurial life story is a cracker too.
But my point is that anyone watching a 100% brilliant, top-notch Michael McIntyre routine… anyone watching an episode of Hancock’s Half Hour, Monty Python or Fawlty Towers… anyone watching a Robin Williams routine… in 75 or 100 years time… may not find any of them funny because tastes will have changed and cultural tastes are different. Humour in the form of jokes and scripted funny routines does not necessarily transcend borders.
A joke that is funny in Indonesia may not make ‘em rock with laughter in Canada or Novosibirsk today. A joke or routine that is funny in London today may not be funny in London in 2099. But a bizarre anecdote about a man who “throughout his life maintained a fearlessness and an indifference to consequences” (as Malcolm Hardee’s obituary in The Times said) is likely to outlive all the people who were more ‘famous’ than he was during his lifetime.
Malcolm Hardee – generally unknown during his lifetime and remembered by few since then – may yet outlive those who apparently achieved more during their lives.
Lao Tzu is right that “the flame which burns twice as bright burns half as long”. But the flame which burns half as bright as those around it is still just as 100% hot when you stick your finger in it and yet may burn twice as long.
Of course, if you’re dead, it doesn’t do you any good so, as Malcolm himself would have said: “Fuck it!”
Or: “It don’t matter, do it? There are people starving in Africa. Not all over… Round the edge… fish.”
RIP the unknown comic, Malcolm Hardee, 1950-2005.
I know someone is going to mention that Charlie Chaplin is remembered fairly worldwide. But I don’t care and I never found him funny anyway. And I am already regretting the line about sticking your finger in…