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Head Girl Makes Good: Jan
Goodey on the sharp rise of Rhona Cameron
 "I'm an observational,
self-referential type of comedian." Rhona Cameron's own
description of her stage act actually speaks volumes for this
media-savvy minx, whose natural intelligence shines through
the tantalising wordplay like a 100 watt bulb.
She can mix structural analysis
and Scottish ribaldry at the drop of a hat, and what with the
razor sharp wit, I tread carefully, if not quite on eggshells
then something just as spiky and liable to send shockwaves
shooting straight through to the brain. Currently she's on a
mini-tour of venues she sold out earlier in the year, sorting
out material for a brand new tour next year, and a four month
run in Australia.
Cameron is perhaps best known
for her TV work: the four series of BBC2's pioneering Gaytime
TV and last year's sitcom series, Rhona, written by and
starring herself. "You need TV to raise your
profile," she says, going on to recall a time she
presented Top of the Pops.
"That was one of those
showbiz moments I will totally fucking treasure. I quite like
Texas, Sharleen, she's a lovely woman, very friendly and they
were number one at the time. You're standing under the logo
and introducing the next band: unbelievable. I've been
watching the programme since I was a kid." The silver
screen was the launch pad though. Newly arrived in Nineties
London, Cameron blagged her way into an independent feminist
film Cream Soda which was 'a bag o' shite' but fun: "I
got off with a couple of people on the film and one of them
advised me to try stand-up." She ended up at an open mic
night at the Comedy Cafe and from there went onto score hits
at Channel 4's So You Think You're Funny Awards in 1992, and
sell out shows at the Edinburgh Fringe.
Her big break came when she
toured with Jack Dee in 1995, "We had the same manager
and it was pretty standard practice to tour with Jack. It was
all right, it gave me the opportunity as a new comic to play
to 3,000 people a night. He gave me a teeny bit of advice I
suppose, but the whole touring thing is quite boring.
"You're not going to be
experimenting with material, you're on for 15 minutes and
you're basically banging out your greatest hits." If Dee
doesn't float her boat, who does? "Woody Allen, his
observations on the human condition, love, anxiety, are the
greatest ever, his writing is genius. I saw Victoria Wood when
I was 16. I was drawn to her a because she was an unusual
woman - quite androgynous then and did material I still think
is great." Openly gay but unhappy with the gay comedian
tag, Cameron is keen to attract as wide an audience as
possible. "I worry about people thinking, 'Oh it's gay, I
better not go coz I'm not'. The whole gay thing bores the arse
off me. You don't hear other people asking black people about
being black or gay men about being gay. I try not to think
about it." Another beef is the glut of comedy classics on
TV, "Dad's Army is great," she says, "but can
you believe the BBC is still repeating that fucking Seventies
thing when there's so many new comedians trying to come
through?" The frustration is keenly felt. Cameron grew up
in the tough Scottish town of Musselburgh on a kind of
Brookside / Wimpey estate. Brought up a Presbyterian, she
found solace in churches; Sunday school, and communions were
'bog standard and healthy' because at school she was getting
bullied for being different.
When she rose above this to
Head Girl no less and decided to go on to art school her dad
died. "It was traumatic and by that time I had no
interest in academia whatsoever. I was a good painter, life
drawing, portraits. I should have played the game and saved
myself years of drunken unemployed misery."
She spent seven years on the
dole interspersed with work in a kilt shop, a pleasant time
cleaning toilets and a move to Australia with an Australian
lover, where she sold paintings door to door. The move to
London was more daunting, Cameron describing it as, "a
shithole that most of us love, with people who are repressed
and unfriendly, but a real city."
It's taken her a while and the
struggles have been real, but now aged 36 she's where she
wants to be, living in Hampstead, doing what she wants to do,
even taking up the painting again: "I'm honoured to be
earning my living doing this. The instant reaction of an
audience: there's nothing more beautiful."
copyright New Insight
2001
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