British Comedy Guide
Frank Skinner
Frank Skinner

Frank Skinner

  • 67 years old
  • English
  • Actor, writer and stand-up comedian

Press clippings Page 45

Here, in Russell Brand: Skinned (Channel 4), is another faintly ridic-ulous man. He's being interviewed, rather well, by Frank Skinner, although, to be fair, Frank doesn't have to work hard. It just comes pouring out: drugs (again - shut up about the drugs), the women, Sachsgate (he's both sorry and not sorry), ambition. And it's very good, because Russell Brand is very good - funny, clever, quick, eloquent (he knows how to use words like dichotomy and caveat). Sometimes you have to marvel at the man.

I don't love him, though, wouldn't get into a hot tub with him (very happy to with Frank Skinner, however). Maybe it doesn't matter: you don't need to love someone for them to make you laugh. It's probably for the same reason that lots of men don't love him: he's funnier and more attractive than we are, and he's going to mate with our women. But there's more to it. In spite of his chattiness, his tactile rubberiness, there's something cold about him. Look into his eyes. He's a lizard, that's what he is.

Sam Wollaston, The Guardian, 9th December 2009

I've always wanted to dislike Russell Brand, but I can't quite do it. That said, I don't know what it is about him that I do like, I just know I can't dislike him as much as many do.

Even after Sachsgate - which demonstrated a level of purile stupidity that I expected from Ross but not Brand - I still can't wholly have an aversion to the man. I suspect it might be nothing more than the fact that he makes me laugh, and it's hard to abhor someone who amuses you.

He's witty, he can - one assumes, given the number of ladies he's been involved with - be charming and he can be self-deprecating when it's required. However, this sit down with Frank Skinner told us nothing we didn't already know and was, to be honest, just a pi**ing contest between the two to see who could be funniest.


We heard from both several tales of how fame had gone to their heads, both the ones they keep on their necks and the other ones, and the effect that something Brand described as "oestrogen mist" had on them. Basically, they have both been offered nookie on a plate from adoring female fans and both have partaken from that bottomless trough often.

Skinner questioned the moral rectitude of doing so and seemed genuinely embarrassed that he'd taken full advantage of that particular form of hero worship, but Brand answered the relatively serious question with jokes, so it lost any depth it might have had.

There was of course lengthy discourse about the Andrew Sachs affair and Brand rather confusingly at once apologised - again - and then refuted that he'd done anything that wrong in the first place. He did however - rightly in my opinion - proffer that much of the fuss wasn't about the incident itself but the wider issue of celebrity salaries and the BBC licence fee.

Overall, this was like Jeremy Paxman interviewing Bungle after a spliff; one didn't expect it to be deeply serious, just somewhat informative in its endeavour, but it just didn't have the energy to get past the giggling stage.

Lynn Rowlands-Connolly, Unreality TV, 9th December 2009

The idea of a "revealing, behind-the-scenes" documentary about Russell Brand is quite an odd one - his whole persona, after all, is one of a person happy to expose and riff on, ad nauseam, his many failings. Here, Frank Skinner inter-views a post-"Sachsgate" Brand, a man who has evidently put in work recently to try to understand and intellectualise his compulsions. More interesting is Brand's sheer drive. Could it be his hair that is responsible? "Without fame," says the comic, "this haircut just looks like mental illness."

The Guardian, 8th December 2009

Documentary following the controversial comedian on his 2009 Scandalous tour, culminating in a sold-out gig at London's O2 Arena. There's also a candid chat with fellow comic Frank Skinner in which Brand opens up about his drug and sex addictions, and the matter of messages left on actor Andrew Sachs's answering machine.

Sam Richards, The Telegraph, 8th December 2009

Don't worry ladies, Russell isn't losing his largest organ. He's being interviewed by Frank Skinner and the programme makers have decided to make a past participle out of his name. Fans of comedy will enjoy the pair bonding in a room (familiar to TV Hacks as The Library at the CG Hotel) over the mechanics and art of being a comedian, but people wanting belly laughs will be disappointed.

The best moment is probably when Skinner tells Brand that he finds his womanising off-putting, because it has unpleasant results and doesn't sit well with his likeable persona. It throws Brand off his stride for an instant and that's when he becomes most interesting.

TV Bite, 8th December 2009

There's something of the sexy, oversized pixie about Russell Brand, a filthy imp who's infamously priapic yet desperately romantic, profoundly literate and articulate, yet mucky-mouthed. And he loves trouble. Brand hides nothing in this documentary as he talks to Frank Skinner of his former addictions to heroin, crack, cannabis and alcohol and of his realisation that they were killing him. "I used to like being smacked up, out of my mind... it was the annihilation of the self... there was nothing... [Being an addict] was demanding, debilitating and lonely."

I won't apologise for the fact that I love Brand; he's a magnetic, fearless performer with a brilliant wit. But it's when he's at his most introspective that he is at his most interesting. Revisiting his home town of Grays in Essex, he speaks for everyone who ever came from somewhere dull when he says: "My identity was formed by not being part of it."

Alison Graham, Radio Times, 8th December 2009

The world would be a sadder place if Russell Brand quit the public eye - he's scarily intelligent, supremely funny, startlingly honest and can't last a day without pushing buttons. In this documentary, ex-alcoholic Frank Skinner interviews Brand about his wild career, drug addiction, relationship with the media and even his dandy image, which Brand makes sense of using Simpsons creator Matt Groening's maxim that 'good cartoon characters are recognisable in silhouette'. A fascinating account, interspersed with early and recent performance footage.

Sharon Lougher, Metro, 8th December 2009

After a certain pre-recorded Radio 2 programme generated a record amount of complaints after being eviscerated by the Daily Mail, Russell Brand jumped before he could be pushed and has been fairly quiet on British television screens since. This hour-long programme could spell the start of his rehabilitation, mixing elements of his live stand-up routine with some behind-the-scenes footage and, more importantly, a revealing interview with Frank Skinner.

Scott Matthewman, The Stage, 7th December 2009

Chain Reaction (Radio 4, Tuesdays, 6.30pm) has been the highlight of my late-summer listening. Through it I've come to like Frank Skinner, discovered that Eddie Izzard can still throw aside the ponderous trappings of Hollywood semi-stardom and be himself again and found, in Alastair Campbell, a charm that he managed to hide so successfully during his years as Tony Blair's minister of propaganda. And every week I've told myself that, this time, I'll resist the temptation to write about it here and focus instead on the new.

But then last week Campbell only goes and interviews Alastair McGowan and all best intentions exit stage right. Last Tuesday's Chain Reaction was probably the best of the series so far, as McGowan gave a masterclass in how he does what he does so well. Slipping from one voice to the other, frequently during a single sentence, he analysed how they came to be. The Nerd Voice, for example, which he was already using as a generic, suddenly acquired a real-life person to attach it to: John Major. "The reason why it's the Nerd Voice," he said, "is because it's completely devoid of emotion and heart.

"Technically, it derives from the back of the throat, which is also used by Brian Perkins" - changing gear ever so slightly to become the legendary Radio 4 newsreader - "but Brian has a connection with his chest, so you have this wonderful, resonant open voice, while Major" - shifting the voice a couple of inches upwards - "is stuck in the throat, so he's cut off from feeling.

"Michael Heseltine," he continued, on a roll now, "had a fabulous oratory voice. He had a trapped 'R' and he couldn't speak properly, but when he really got going he was trapped and there was a little bit of shyness there and there really was a great power to it."

And by God he was right. So simple, and yet so intricate. "There are places the voice goes to," he summed up, "and the deeper it goes, the cooler you are."

Prompted by Campbell, McGowan gave us his Tony Blair, which derives much of its authenticity from the former PM's habit of replacing his "I" sounds with "U" sounds - "Uff the Honourable Member thunks..." but confessed himself stymied by the next PM, David Cameron: "Just sound posh and whisper."

But of course, McGowan is best-known, not for his political voices - Rory Bremner has that covered - but everything else. David Beckham, for example, is an unconfident Stuart Pearce, and when McGowan segued from one to the other you saw exactly what he meant. The same voice, but with a different man behind it.

Look, the latest series of Chain Reaction will soon be naught but a beam in the eye of memory (McGowan talks to Simon Callow today; should be interesting), and I'm going to write about something else in a minute, but there was one last McGowan moment to warm our way into winter. "I've recently discovered Neil Oliver, of The One Show," McGowan said, in Scots character, "and one thing I've noticed is that he's really passionate about everything he does, but he really has to keep his passion under control, because if he ever gets carried away with it, he's just going to turn into" - mid-sentence segue - "Billy Connolly!" The mind's ear caught the connection and thought 'I could do that.' As if.

Chris Campling, The Times, 6th October 2009

Eddie Izzard is never off the wireless lately. Last week he was interviewed by Frank Skinner, now he's quizzing Alistair Campbell, once chief spin doctor to Tony Blair and terror of the BBC, now more of a wandering minstrel. Izzard starts off with how the Clan Campbell got its appalling reputation, what it was like for a Campbell to grow upin Keighley, what differentiates a busker from a street entertainer, being a swot, going to Cambridge, trying his hand at pornography, having a nervous breakdown. I think I've heard most of this before. Too often.

Gillian Reynolds, The Telegraph, 23rd September 2009

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