Tadiwa Mahlunge
It was the first of times, it was the worst of times - and now it's festival time. Next week your TV, radio and iPlayer will be awash with a certain bash down in the south west, which might well whet your appetite for watching live stuff in a field this summer. Perhaps somewhere a bit easier to get to though, and a bit less huge. More boutiquey.
In late July just outside London, for example, it's Standon Calling, featuring a multi-generational bunch of music bigwigs, notably The Human League, Taskmaster alumni Self Esteem, Bloc Party, KT Tunstall, Rick Astley, Melanie C and Years & Years, led by him from It's A Sin.
Meanwhile the comedy line-up includes Mark Watson, Kiri Pritchard-McLean, Rhys James, Reginald D Hunter, Lou Sanders - always fun seeing them try to keep it cleaner for the kids - and today's guest, Tadiwa Mahlunge. You probably won't find him in the Human League moshpit however (if indeed that's a thing).
"To be honest it's a bit of a trek for me to get there," he says, "so I won't be able to see much. But I'm just happy to be included!"
That's the spirit. Mahlunge has been lauded by the likes of Aisling Bea and Hollywood superstar Daniel Kaluuya during his rise up the circuit ladder. And it's a big year for him. Right now, outside of shows, "my sole focus is polishing my Edinburgh Fringe debut hour Inhibition Exhibition," he says. That's at the Pleasance Courtyard during August. But as for his stand-up debut...
First gig?
September 29th 2015. I decided to intrude on a music open mic in Lancaster, my uni town, the day before my first lecture. People were having a nice time listening to the music and chatting, and I made them all shut up and listen to three minutes of the worst comedy that has ever been written. I was booked for 10.
Not only did no one laugh, they all just gradually just started talking over me to block me out, and the closest to a laugh I got was a cough, and I walked off.
Favourite show, ever?
This is cliché, but there have been too many; this is a very fulfilling career. Probably getting to meet Stewart Lee at Brighton Comedy Garden was the best because he's always been a hero of mine and he was so kind and generous with his time and advice.
Worst gig?
Worse than the first? Well, I was doing a talent show on campus in second year, it couldn't have been more than my 30th gig. I was doing so poorly, the host of the talent show walked back on stage mid-set, took the mic out of my hand, put his hand on my chest and without saying a word, he guided me off stage.
He didn't even address the fact that I existed, he just welcomed the next act on stage and the whole room compartmentalised my performance, pretending it didn't happen so they could get on with their evening.
Which one person influenced your comedy life most significantly?
Once again, this is very cliché, however I'd say no one makes me feel more like a hack if I crowd-please than Bill Hicks. No one makes me want to be more selective in my use of language than John Mulaney, and no one makes me feel like I need to be honest on stage more than Patrice O'Neal.
And who's the most disagreeable person you've come across in the business?
Anyone who believes expressing broadly liberal statements that literally only Suella Braverman disagrees with is a substitute for disciplined joke writing isn't a real comedian. They are a poor excuse for a political activist who doesn't even have the charisma to inspire people to rally around a cause, and they should stop taking up space in an already oversaturated entertainment landscape.
Is there one routine/gag you loved, that audiences inexplicably didn't?
No. When a joke fails, I get it. Every joke is funny; the raw idea is funny unless you're completely out of touch with reality. The issue is the comedian's ability to communicate the idea. Every joke I have ever written that hasn't worked came too early in my career for me. If a joke is a sword in World of Warcraft, some require a level 80 to wield them; if you're a level 13, you gotta wait your turn. Go back into the forest and kill some boars.
Do you have material lined up for festival gigs like this, or just see what weird stuff happens?
I just do my best material that requires the least thought from the drunk outdoor crowd and takes the least risks. The gig's not about me, you gotta be a professional.
Any reviews, heckles or post-gig reactions stick in the mind?
I was opening a gig in Peaslake, awful people, I will not return. I had an industry drinks to get to post-gig, the MC agreed to keep it tight and do about 10 minutes. This is not an exaggeration, he did literally 35 minutes at the top of the most homophobic, sexist material I've ever seen in my life. And the people of Peaslake loved all of it. All of it.
I go on; it goes how it was always going to go. However, as I'm winning about half of them, I ask if anyone is an immigrant so I can launch into a bit. An English sounding woman answers, "Yes, I am". I said, "Where from?" She said, "Ireland." I said, "That doesn't count."
You would think I assassinated the leader of the IRA from her reaction. After the gig, I run into my taxi. This woman actually ran out screaming, "Where is that man?"
Not gonna lie, I'm at an age where on some level I was like, "Yay, she called me a man!" This woman throws herself in front of the taxi to make us stop. That's the level of white privilege this downtrodden immigrant had, she knew nothing would happen to her if she threw herself in front of a moving vehicle.
She runs to my side, and genuinely tries to open the door of a moving vehicle. Now, I'm African, the taxi driver was Indian, if either of us hurt this crazy white lady, we're both going to jail. So I pick my moment and slam my door shut while her fingers aren't gonna get caught, I lock my door, and I yell at the driver to peel away. We got out of there like the end of Get Out, and I only did black gigs for like a week after that.
How do you feel about where your career is at, right now?
I'm doing fine. Honestly, I don't think about comedy in those terms anymore. I only care about improving my material consistently and learning new techniques at the highest rate I'm capable of. I love comedy, and I want to be truly great at it one day.
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