Brown Girls Do It Too, Rhys James, Fin Taylor - Mark Muldoon's Comedy Diary
"I lost my virginity to the Dawson's Creek soundtrack"
In a fine example of 'be the change you want to see in the world' logic, Rubina Pabani and Poppy Jay noticed the fact that there isn't exactly a rich history of South Asian women talking about - or depicted as having - sex in the media, and so started up a BBC podcast on the topic. You can see why the idea appealed: there's so much interesting, hilarious, worthwhile discussion to be had in these areas where sex, ethnicity and identity overlap.
Now that podcast has become an 80-minute stage show - Brown Girls Do It Too: Mama Told Me Not To Come - one which, for me, recalled Caitlin Moran's How to Be a Woman - fun, frequently extremely funny confessional discussion of all the things they've been told they shouldn't be talking about. So chat about periods, orgasms, rimming and kinks are mixed in with discussions from the British Asian experience - thick hair, aunties, smelling of curry, sexism, integration and being called a 'race traitor'. As second-generation immigrants, the attitudes of their parent's generation are held up for criticism, but there's also substantial empathy for the reasons said attitudes came to exist.
Expect a funny, fun production, then. Whilst it's quite common for shows to end on a more serious or sentimental note, there's a particularly skilled example here that elevates the show substantially. A great night out for anyone, then, even if it will hold special appeal for its signposted demographic. It's at Soho Theatre until June 10th.
Fin Taylor has clocked up a decent number of TV appearances in recent years - including Live At The Apollo and three outings on Have I Got News For You. Whilst he's certainly talented enough to warrant these bookings, an alternative reading of the situation could be that his 'provocative' joking style is providing a sense of balance on BBC shows that have come under fire for being too left-wing.
Back in 2020, The Times mentioned Taylor when writing about the phenomenon, naming him as an example of a comic booked to provide political balance. It was perhaps telling, though, that the article only actually managed to name one other "right-wing" comedian that had recently been booked for the long-running satirical panel show. For those familiar with Taylor's comedy, it seemed to provide pretty solid evidence of how impossible TV producers must find booking good quality right-wing comedians, given the fact that, at the very most, the strongest label you could apply to Taylor's comedy is a sort-of scattergun centrist desire to hold everything up for mockery. It did seem to provide a lesson to young, upcoming comedians, though: if you're willing to go on TV and criticise the Labour party, there's possibly a good career in it for you.
There's very little current affairs in Daddy Self Care, Taylor's latest show. Ukraine is briefly touched on - and it's the Conservatives, not Labour who make for his political targets this time. Instead, the show centres more on domesticity, parenting and mental health. It's a show that also likes to question comforting platitudes: take his discussion of depression, where he reminds his audience that "no matter how bad things feel now, it will get better" before following it up with "but obviously, something else will come up later".
That's pretty typical of Taylor's writing. When the jokes head into even more uneasy territory - take his bracing punchline about domestic abuse, for example - Taylor tends to be skilled enough to write a funny punchline that also makes it clear that he's definitely on the side of the victims. In short, the quality of the jokes tends to justify how incendiary they can be.
It'd be an exaggeration to call Rhys James's new show Spilt Milk old-fashioned, but it's fair to say it shows little interest in the increasingly common aspects of stand-up comedy shows - incorporating sentimental moments, theatrical elements, or serious discussions of the hot-button topics of the era. Instead, it just tries to be as funny as possible for 70 minutes.
It suits him, as the quality never really dips in what is a particularly strong show from the young-faced comedian. He appears to never have a line that isn't either setting up a punchline or saying the actual punchline. It's impressive, and for the most part avoids retreading ground other comedians have walked. It's at the Edinburgh Fringe then tours again in the Autumn.
Read previous editions of this column
Mark Muldoon is also available on Instagram and Twitter (especially if you've got any good Dawson's Creek memes).
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