Hi James. Who are you and what do you do in comedy?
I do sketches, but not in the 'Jack from Titanic' way. For the past four years, I have run a comedy group with a name that solely rides on the fact that I used to bring biscuits into workshops. Biscuit Barrel's last Edinburgh Fringe production had 69 sketches in an hour, a statement that offers multiple reasons why I should lower my blood-sugar levels... I don't bring biscuits into rehearsals anymore.
Tell us about how you first became involved in the comedy world.
In 2016, my open project at university got a bit carried away and now it's grown into a reckless and out-of-control comedy group with a four-year resume... I don't know what I've done, but it seems to get us attention.
We initially kept our shows on our university campus, before gigging around the South-East and South-West circuits and realising the hard way that most comedy stages aren't built for six people. Often being the only sketch act on-the-bill, we quickly gained a niche for shocking audiences who anticipated seeing three hours of stand-up.. and ended up seeing someone being beaten to the ground with a cardboard keyboard - go figure.
We then went on to become an annual participant of Edinburgh Fringe, where we had been doing pretty well until the plague made a comeback. We got people to turn up (good start), got a nice review from The List, got a couple trophies from a lovely bloke called Derek, were featured in a Chortle article called '10 dubious awards' for getting trophies from Derek (sorry about that!), made people laugh, made drunk people belly-laugh, offended some people on the way (standard) - it was a great time, and one that made us all ill for half of September.
Tell us about your comedy favourites.
At three-years-old, I was first indoctrinated by Laurel & Hardy on VHS. Considering the only other stuff I watched was Looney Tunes and Tom & Jerry, I was evidently a toddler who enjoyed excessive violence and watching characters suffer.
Later on, I was introduced to Dad's Army and obsessed over it to the extent that, when I was asked to write a French paper as a celebrity, I chose Arthur Lowe. Not Captain Manwaring, just Arthur Lowe as himself... I don't know why either. I even stuffed a cushion up my shirt and did an impression, whilst reading it out to the class. My Dad seemed to see this is as a gateway drug to graduate me onto Monty Python, which corrupted me even further... I recited the entire Cheese Shop sketch off-by-heart for a GCSE drama exam.
In terms of a group rising in the industry now, Sleeping Trees are my go-to. Their style of 'narrative comedy' - the three of them using themselves as all characters, props and even sets to tell a story - is something I have never seen replicated or matched. They were the group that inspired me to start The Biscuit Barrel; who demonstrated that you could grow your comedy group into a successful and well-oiled theatre company.
The comedy industry is competitive. Why should people pick you to work with?
Not only will I give you free biscuits, but I have also made a body of work that embraces the new wave of internet-grown humour and how the expectations of a live comedy show have been forever changed by that. Post-pandemic, people are going to still want live comedy and lots of it - we've had a year of either relatable phone-camera domestic sketches or the increasingly depressing iconography of watching plays and sitcoms done over Zoom. The internet's a venue people are desperate to leave but, when they do leave for the outside world, their sense of humour will have been slightly reshaped by the videos they have watched; this is exactly what I have acknowledged in all my work since 2016.
For Barrel, I sold our show as 'the speed of the internet put on a stage' and that was exactly what I was going for; in a time of TikTok, I knew that there was a market to speed up the live sketch show. We are now used to sketches being six-seconds long; the standard three minutes is comparatively jarring. And it's not just sketches I apply this philosophy to - scripting in general is speeding up (and it's not just Aaron Sorkin's fault!). To be clear, I am not saying that every script now has to flow at the pace of a Japanese bullet train with a driver that's been force-fed cocaine and Red Bull... but what I am saying is that I am an experienced independent comedy writer and performer, who is looking to push for these creative innovations and tap into a market that mainstream programming has yet to fully utilise.
What's the best advice you've ever been given, read or heard?
At the end of The Polar Express, the conductor says "It doesn't matter where you're going, what matters is deciding to get on." ...Every year, when I've come home for Christmas, my dad - an actual train conductor - has never failed to emphasise that this is terrible advice.
Where would you like to be in 10 years' time?
Alive would be a good start. At the very least, I would like to grow Biscuit Barrel to its full potential, whilst also having a firm individual identity in the industry outside of the company. My ambitions are high for how far I can go but, as long as I am doing what makes me happy, I'm good.
I just hope no more food's cancelled for being unhealthy... I didn't know what to do with myself after they brought down bread.
If you ever get free time, how do you spend it?
Either with friends at the pub, with my girlfriend at the pub, going to comedy gigs.. at the pub, or getting frustrated that I'm not using my time effectively until I go crazy and turn my free time into even more productive time... so you can imagine how my lockdowns have gone.
If a genie offered you one wish, what would you ask for?
For my keyboard to include the backwards B from the Abba logo.
Published: Friday 14th May 2021