There seems to be a resurgence in storytelling in the comedy world. Rooms like Northcote Storytellers and Willow Tales in Melbourne, Storytelling in Sydney and Storyteller’s Club during the Melbourne Comedy Festival have breathed new life into an old form, changing the format of both comedy rooms and of storytelling itself.
Simon Godfrey co-runs Willow Tales, a room in Northcote which loosely fills the hole previous taken by Northcote Storytellers run by Dan Lee. Willow Tales¬ is a theme based storytelling night in which performers are given the freedom to experiment in a setting where the immediacy of a punchline is not always necessary and broad concepts can be explored. Tim Doyle runs a Sydney room called Storytelling which features three performers a night telling stories from their real lives.
I asked both Simon and Tim what makes storytelling so popular currently. I think it’s an antidote to the tight five says Simon. A reaction against the need for punchlines. Storytelling affords you the room to be funny, but not have to throw in zingers. It’s also a medium to experiment and discover material.
Storytelling is so popular because it’s raw, real and different adds Tim. In the format we run it, you never know what you will hear. The mix of tragedy, comedy and drama always allows something different for the audience and something which is far more personal than most stand up comedy. The connection between audience and performer is much stronger as both feel a stronger sense of the personal nature of the performance.
So what’s the link between storytelling and comedy? Many comics have delved into storytelling over the years. Billy Connolly can certainly spin a good yarn. Ronnie Corbett comes to mind as does Dave Allen says Simon. Of course adds Tim, a lot of stories are funny and comedians are increasingly finding real situations to use in stand up which an audience can relate to or have experienced.
It’s not unusual for comedians to base an hour long show on or around a story. I asked Tim and Simon what makes the shorter version of storytelling work. In the Roxbury format, we have two 15-20 minutes stories and 1 30-45 says Tim. The big one allows for real depth, similar to a comedians one-hour show. In the shorter format, performers really have to work to focus on what is the important and interesting parts of the story. It focuses the performer on their material as much as it does the audience.
You don’t need an hour to tell a good story maintains Simon. A compelling story can be any length, really. A five minute yarn can be a cracker. But there’s nothing like watching a performer holding an audience for a longer period of time and really sucking them in.
Some comedians seem to be gifted when it comes to storytelling while others seem to shun it. I asked the guys if they go for a certain type of comedian when they invite them to perform. Simon responded that type isn’t important and that he’s just looking for performers who will relish the opportunity to do something different and will enjoy the challenge of catering their story for the room and the theme of the evening. Tim reiterates this adding that the greater the diversity the better. Obviously experience helps for the longer version but we don’t chose ‘types’.
I asked if, as viewers, do they ever or often find the stories told surprising. Every time says Tim. I am constantly amazed by people and their reactions to strange and unique events. Even if I have heard them before!
Yes sometimes adds Simon. When watching stand up you often have your analytical hat on, so you’re looking for where the bit is going and trying to work out where the punch is coming etc…But with stories, especially if they’re based on real life, they can very easily take you by surprise and go in to unexpected places.
Over recent years Justin Hamilton has been a feature of the comedy festival with his story based shows. From his mammoth trilogy Three Colours Hammo and his subsequent shows The Killing Joke and Goodbye Ruby Tuesday he has identified himself closely with the storytelling form. A feature of these shows has been the combination of pathos with humour. I asked Justin how hard is it to find the balance between the two. Just making sure you don’t get too caught up your own arse would be what I keep in mind he says. You can have all sorts of moments within a show, just make sure there are more laughs than not. Otherwise you’ve written a drama with some lighthearted moments. Once again there are no right or wrong ways but I think jokes are good and not something to be feared…which a lot of comedians seem to be. I find that fascinating.
Simon, however, has a different take on the issue. Personally, I’m not really one for a lot of pathos in my tales he says. You need to decide what slant you want your story to have. If you want a really funny story, I think too much pathos can result in a story (in a comedy context) that is poignant, but not funny. It’s not hard to find the balance, so long as you are clear on what you want your story to achieve. But Willow Tales isn’t purely for comic tales, so hopefully we’ll see a good mix and the two artfully crafted together.
I asked Justin if basing a show around a story means necessarily sacrificing laughs in deference to the story. I’m not really sure that is the case he says. I don’t think about sacrificing jokes, I think about what the story needs. I think the talk about sacrificing laughs comes down to comedians trying to explain their short comings. People who would never do a big story for a show will always cry foul and say those shows lack laughs. I would say that the laughs are even bigger because they’re involved emotionally. Either way it doesn’t matter…the story is what drives it. How you tell it is up to you. There is no right or wrong way.
I asked them all if audiences react differently to storytelling as opposed to straight stand up. Yes says Simon. A storytelling audience, especially in the context of a room dedicated to storytelling, or a night dedicated to it, will go with you on more things. Sometimes they can be more giving as well. With smaller crowds it’s probably easier to tell stories, rather than doing shtick or a few zingers, which can often be alienating for a small audience.
Indeed agrees Tim. They are much less judgmental of the artist and don’t really care if they don’t like it. They find it just as fascinating to figure out why this person wants to tell this particular story.
Justin reiterates this response. Oh sure. Especially the audiences who don’t want a story and just want you to pound out a joke every five seconds. That isn’t my style even when I’m doing straight stand up but I can still belt out a joke every few seconds if I want. It’s just not a style I’m that interested in at the moment.
I asked Justin what the allure of storytelling is and if it’s a rewarding process. I just like stories, always have, always will he says. The stuff that appeals to me the most are the big tales that resonate back and forth until you get to the end and realise what it all means. I loved watching the end of this year’s show when people finally realised that Hannah (who played Ruby in the show) was talking to Jason at the very beginning but no one knew at that point because she hadn’t let us into her world. That would probably be the most satisfying moment I’ve had on stage in a long time. Having said that I saw Dave Hughes and Wil Anderson this year and thought their shows were hilarious. Maybe next year I might just do a more straight forward stand up show with some of my favourite stories and save the next big idea for outside of the festival where it can breathe a little easier and not be swamped by the festival itself.
Storytelling is an innately personal form. I asked Justin how difficult is it when the stories come close to something very real and very personal. Realistically I think you only give as much of yourself as you really want to he says. No one needs to know what is true and what isn’t and therefore within that you can be as honest as you feel like. Funnily enough the stories that are just that can sometimes be the most moving. Calliope from the “Three Colours Hammo” trilogy was one of those situations. Even though she was an amalgamation of a couple of people I once knew but was essentially an imaginary person, the way people related to her was quite touching and made her feel more real than a lot of people I know really well. The same goes for the character of Ruby in the latest show. Her pain was based on pain I felt for the death of some close friends last year but I had a lot of empathy and love for her because it became someone else’s pain that I could now relate to.
Like all comedy, storytelling does incorporate some degree of fiction. I asked Justin how important the ‘true truth’ is in the storytelling form or if the fiction helps underline a greater truth. I think everyone concentrates too much on what is real and what isn’t he says. I remember talking to Dave Gorman one year and he revealed one of the tricks to me in his show and it didn’t mean anything less when I found out it wasn’t real. I remember a comic who I consider a friend going around after I had performed the Three Colours show all in one day telling people Calliope wasn’t real. Whatever. The emotions the character brought out were real, the building blocks that made her were real, who gives a fuck. And yes, without getting too heavy I think a much purer truth is revealed in imaginary tales. You know why? Because imaginary tales can get to the point whereas real life is way too confusing with all the different things that are happening to us at any given time.
Thanks to Simon Godfrey, Tim Doyle and Justin Hamilton