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Amanda
Jones asks what's so funny about Celebrity Big Brother
winner and stand-up, Jack Dee
 During
the phenomenon that was Celebrity Big Brother, Jack Dee
won the nation's heart for symbolising all that is best
about being British. Being miserable. Indeed, one quarter
of the population believe life is unfair, one in three
feel downright miserable and one in ten think they would
be better off dead. If being downtrodden were a sport,
we would take home every gold medal, every time. Our forte
would undoubtedly be the synchronised 'my glass is half-empty'
syndrome.
In
our defence, we have always laughed in the face of misfortune.
In fact, we are never happier than when moaning about
the weather (too hot, too cold), congested roads or ridiculously
priced housing. We moan with merriment, with purpose,
with self-deprecating wit. We are never more capable companions
as when we are carping.
It
comes as no surprise then to discover we love comedians
like Jack Dee, who focus upon the mundane and miserable.
Cantankerous comics are every bit a part of British culture
as drizzly days out, archaic transport systems and the
failing NHS. So a man with more than a passing resemblance
to Victor Meldrew-on-Mogadons, should fit right in. And
we love it. Love him. Mr. Jack Dee. His demeanour screams
elegance; his delivery, one of impeccable timing, is imbued
with dry sarcasm and icy cynicism. Having turned 'unimpressed'
into an art form, Jack's the master of this genre, hands
down. And he's back, with a new stand-up tour of Britain,
following recent celebrated successes on the small screen,
most significantly of course, the Celebrity Big Brother
saga.
Imagining
he's already been over-questioned regarding that charity
cause, I hesitantly broach the subject. However, he is
forthcoming and friendly, "I never realised what
I was letting myself in for. I agreed to do it after four
glasses of wine. I'd never seen it before - if I had,
I would have said no!" Slating the people who suggested
the contestants entered to boost flagging careers, he
insinuates that was the case for some, but not for him
or Claire Sweeney. "I think that's the reason we
came through."
But
what a source for stories, I venture. "I try to steer
clear of Big Brother because it was for charity, and I
don't want to make money off the back of it." So,
despite no new material, missing his family, trying to
escape, having housemate's hair extensions dropping into
his food and finding others "far too happy looking",
did he get anything from it? "It was a positive experience.
You learn so much about yourself when you're incarcerated.
I've never watched the tapes since. Watching yourself
is always unbearable - it's like looking at yourself in
the mirror having just woken up." Not a pretty sight,
I have to agree.
Although
Jack has many feathers in his cap, he professes to love
stand-up best of all. "It's the first thing I got
into and it's still what I love most," he says, "It's
such a great form of entertainment - it never palls."
His appeal lies primarily in the honesty with which he
discusses his outlook. He highlights niggles and quirks
which he (and the rest of us) find so very annoying in
life. "The audience warm to the fact that I'm sufficiently
human to own up to these faults.
"Being
irritated is what makes me tick. I look at it from every
angle in order to find out why my response is mild annoyance
or absolute rage. My immediate response is to interpret
things comically, and my sense of comedy is curmudgeonly.
At times, I find things difficult or depressing, but the
saving grace is that I have a release on stage and can
turn my inner turmoil into laughter."
He
isn't merely fly-away, shallow comedian though, as alongside
light-hearted matter such as teabags, tattoos and travellers,
he tackles topics of a more serious nature, like illness
and death. Although not immediately apparent as subjects
for riotous humour, his thoughtful and mature approach
breaks down any initial hostility. "Once you've got
a heavy subject out, looked at it and laughed at it, it's
then very hard to put it back in the serious drawer,"
he says. "I'm giving a running commentary on my own
life and that involves opening up the fears that lurk
in my mind. It's a very healthy and cathartic process,"
he adds.
Very
healthy, I agree. So, it keeps you happy? "Clearly
my comedy is being able to laugh about despair, but there
is a side of me that can't escape." What do you do
as a form of release then? "I am a non-literalistic,
non-evangelical, non-exclusivistic, certainly non-fundamentalist
Christian. It's the story of conversion. It's just lifted
me out of a general sense of despair that I've lived with
for such a long time. I know I don't look very happy,
but this has breathed life into me that wasn't there before."
This
is not what I expected at all. But perhaps the General
Synod should not break out the champagne quite yet, because
he adds: "I can't stand the bloody church. I can't
bear its indifference towards women and gays. It seems
so unloving and unfriendly."
Has
he always been such a well-rounded individual? "Not
exactly" he replies. Has he always hankered after
a career as a comedian? Again, "Not exactly."
Although he can remember being funny aged three and-a-half
- something to do with eating biscuits in a humorous way,
though I guess you had to be there. When growing up he
wanted to be a fireman.
Academically,
Jack had a bad time at school in Winchester, doing only
the four compulsory O-levels. "By the time I was
15, I already did not see the point of knowing how a frog
could breathe," he says. "I didn't give a shit.
I had to find out everything for myself."
Were
his school days filled with fun? "Well, I used humour
as an offence and as a defence." Popular then? "Eventually,"
he replies. "I was mischievous when growing up, but
often for attention. I was once suspended for dismantling
the school bus from the inside and throwing the bits out
the window."
As
a 17-year-old Jack confesses to an inclination towards
a retro-hippy lifestyle, although the only herb he admits
growing was parsley.
Has
passing 40 changed him? "I have developed what I
do as I have progressed down the line - hopefully I will
get better still." He admits to being drawn towards
acting. "But most scripts I get sent want me to be
a maverick cop who drives an old car and likes jazz. I'd
rather do something original."
His
stage debut certainly was that. Treading the West End
boards in the Olivier award-winning comedy Art, Jack's
performance as Yvan so impressed the director he was asked
to return to play the part of Serge. Art recently celebrated
its 2000th performance with its twentieth cast change
- the three actors (in the play) change every three months
- which has included Albert Finney, Frank Skinner and
Patrick Duffy.
Appearing
on television, in shows such as The Grimleys‚ and
as team captain in It's Only TV But I Like It‚ introduced
him to a wider audience. As will his part in the new film
comedy, Londinium, due for release this year. Apparently
offered £50,000, he performs alongside Colin Firth
and Stephen Fry. "It's a joy for me to be able to
combine the two things I love most - acting and comedy,"
he says "I don't want to give up comedy but I'm very
interested in the acting side of things."
Jack
is not proud of every performance, however. Starring alongside
animated penguins and ladybirds, his excellent deadpan
performance in the long-running award-winning John Smith's
television adverts, has left him with a sour taste in
his mouth. He is feeling bitter. "I handed them over
my entire image, the stage persona I'd crafted for so
long, to do with what they wanted," he says. "I
was going for money rather than creative integrity, and
although I was paid very well you realise money isn't
everything."
I
realise a big part of Jack's 'everything'‚ includes
his beloved family. His happy marriage to Jane, his four
children (Hattie, nine, Phoebe, seven, and four-year-old
twins Miles and Charlie) and their pet Dachshund. "I
would die for any of them," he says. Indeed, we are
all aware how much he loves his wife - he notoriously
broke out of the Big Brother house in order to snatch
a kiss with her. "I needed to make a break so I went
for it. I longed to find out how they were." He first
met Jane when they were both waiters and together they
have travelled on what Jack calls "a long learning
curve for both of us".
The
future looks bright for Jack. His current tour has sold
out and another series of his Happy Hour‚ for BBC1
is in the pipeline. Furthermore, his universal glumness
is to be utilised yet further by the BBC, as they send
him to Siberia's frozen wastelands to discover exactly
how dejected he can be. "They want to find out if
I can be any more miserable in Siberia."
We
can be guaranteed, that as long as Jack is suffering,
it will make compulsive viewing. The cockles of our hearts
will be warmed at the sight of it. Miserable? Us? The
British? Never!
Jack
Dee appears at the Dome Concert Hall, Church Street, on
March 6-7, 7.30pm, tickets on 01273 709709.
copyright New Insight 2002
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