States of Mind
Breaking America isn't such a big deal for British comedians.
What do you reckon a comedian's dream was, back in the old days? In the modern era it feels almost limitless, where even a long-serving circuit stalwart like Micky Flanagan can belatedly make it big and sell out the same arena as the Foo Fighters, or The Eagles. But before that - what was a comic in previous decades really aiming for?
In the eighties, you were probably hoping to be discovered by a producer and eventually get your own sketch show or sitcom; maybe just on Radio 4, but with enough listeners that they release your series on a cassette tape. Heady days. In the seventies, you'd plug away in the working men's clubs half your life, eventually get a nasty lung disease due to all that secondary smoke every night, and in the meantime hopefully get a quiz show. Bantering with weirdos - that was the fairytale.
In the States meanwhile, there was always the lure of Las Vegas. But that lucrative residency probably wasn't quite as fulfilling as the big headline gigs we're more familiar with, as much of the audience would really be itching to get back to the gambling next door - it's hard to look forward to a show when you know the audience will focus on payout percentages on the slot machines as much as your punchlines.
Nowadays the stand-up scene is so vibrant in the UK that making it in the States doesn't have the same lure as it does in acting, or music, or most other forms of entertainment. It just isn't worth the cultural upheaval. When John Oliver got a gig on The Daily Show then Last Week Tonight, his old partner Andy Zaltzman could have gone over as a writer but, let's face it, he would have missed the cricket. Instead he eventually ended up with his dream job: as resident statistician on Test Match Special.
Actually missing the sport, the soaps or whatever other must-see TV you're obsessed by isn't such an issue now, as you can stream most things globally - you're living in Canada and want to watch the new series of Love Island? No problem. But you'd still need an ulterior motive to bother going, such as an acting role or TV writing gig, which are a lot more lucrative than they are in the UK. For a full-on stand-up though, it can almost feel a backward step.
The difference, essentially, is the Edinburgh Fringe, much as comedians often have a love/hate relationship with it. North America has its own important annual showcase, Montreal's Just for Laughs, but that's usually more of a bite-sized snapshot of your best bits.
Whereas the Fringe encourages comics to make a whole new hour every year or two, to evolve their material and - hey - maybe even grow as a person. With a bit of luck you might get to tour some local arts centres. It's not Las Vegas, but at least that audience will be listening.