Search This Blog

Showing posts with label Lee Mack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lee Mack. Show all posts

Lee Mack, Royal Concert Hall

March 2010

It took him a good hour to get the hang of the accent. Initially, as with Steve Coogan’s attempt in Saxondale, it had too much of a Brummie twang.
Eventually, thanks to a Bilborough College student mumbling a question during the encore, he nailed the “Not-num” annunciation.
It was thing sort of exchange that Lee Mack does best. When he’s relying on the written material, he’s good but not great. When bantering with Jo or Anita or Julie or any of the audience within his sight, he’s as good as anyone.
Subject matter is the usual; family and kids, computers and technology, telly and porn.
He mocks the beige three piece he’s wearing: “I thought it was a bit Al Pacino. Instead I look like an unsuccessful regional snooker player.”
It’s hard to gauge how well he thinks it’s going as often he’ll pick up on gags that he thinks half us don’t get. Nectar (points) versus nectar (honey), for example.
The tour is more than 100 dates until November, when a fourth series of Not Going Out will be screened (huge cheer), although Mack is still in the process of writing it.
This was the first of three dates he’ll be doing at the Royal Concert Hall, so if you’ve booked for his return in May or November, beware spoilers coming up...
The opening is a magic show skit, pulling a youngster from the audience, locking him in a box and sending him away in to the wings. Cut the music: “I said no kids!” he bellows.
Better still when the lad, a 15-year-old (not a stooge as one first assumed), returns to his seat and Mack asks his name. It’s Adam. Quick as flash he says: “Were you the first in tonight?”
I think half of us got it.
He calls an IT helpline. Have you tried disabling cookies? they say. Well, I pulled the legs off a gingerbread man once. We all got that.
Stupid, sweary, old school - Lee Mack is among Britain’s best.

Lee Mack returns to the Royal Concert Hall on May 22 and November 26. Tickets are £20.50, 0115 989 5555, www.royalcentre-nottingham.co.uk

Lee Mack

February 2010


He sounds mildly irked when I suggest that he couldn’t pull a looker like Lucy.
“You are on about the characters, yeah?”
Obviously. The characters in BBC sitcom Not Going Out which he writes and stars as ice cream man Lee, flatmate to the pretty and successful Lucy (Sally Bretton), sister of his best mate Tim (Tim Vine).
It centres on his pursuit of her.
“Well, I know what you mean,” says Mack.
“To a degree. But would you really stay at a hotel like Fawlty Towers? Probably not. The most important thing anyone ever told me about sitcom was that it had as much to do with drama as it did with pantomime. You’ve got meet some where between the two.”
In the last series Lee and Lucy almost shared a kiss. So what of series four? Surely he doesn’t succeed and end up in a relationship with her?
“We go through it at the beginning of every series. Right, are these two characters going to get together or not? And it’s a dilemma because the general rule of sitcom is, don’t change it. But then again we don’t concentrate on their relationship. In some episode we don’t even mention it.
“It’s not like Only Fool & Horses which is all about them wanting to be millionaires. It’s not all about me and her getting together.”
He adds: “It’s a difficult one. We’re still in the process of thrashing that one back and forth. I wake up every morning and change my mind. Right, this series we get together and start a family and it’s a family sitcom next year. Then the next morning I think, no, we’ll keep it as it is.”
To be honest I always figured it was called Not Going Out because they never went out. That the characters of Lee, Tim, Lucy and cleaner Barbara (MIranda Hart) were always in the flat.
Seems it refers to Lee and Lucy living together but not being a couple.
It’s the only gag that hasn’t hit home in the award-winning sitcom that is set to return to BBC1 in the Autumn.
Although initially it was cut from the schedules.
“It was a six month gap between the cancellation and the recommission,” says Mack.
“And in that time I booked in a 100 date tour. It was booked in on the basis that we wouldn’t be doing the sitcom.”
It means trying to write a six-episode series while on the road.
“It’s at least six months work. There’s so much more to it than writing the jokes. There’s all the boring bits like the structure. And 70 or 80 per cent of the workload is mine. I’ll write three of the scripts on my own and three with one other person. Then we’ll read it all out to a live theatre audience. Much like a radio script. To test the jokes. The deadline for that is the end of July.”
Added to that he’s developing a pilot for BBC1.
How is going to manage it?
“That’s a good question. I’ll have a breakdown in August.”
The tour runs until November and includes three Nottingham dates. But there’ll be no more, he says.
“The DVD of the tour will be out in November. Once that’s out you can’t really do the same jokes. And I’ll be sick of them by then anyway.”
I don’t know. Some gags are worth repeating. The Angel Delight routine from the last tour (about his senile nan) I could hear again.
“It’s funny how that joke is one that people shout out a lot. ‘Do your Angel Delight joke!’. Of course, once you’ve said that the joke’s finished because that’s the punchline.”
Unlike fellow Not Going Out stand-up Tim Vine, Mack tested out his material, not in the back of a taxi, but at comedy clubs.
“He was reading it out to the taxi driver?”
It’s true. In a recent interview with EG, Vine admitted it as how he rehearsed for his tour, in the back of a cab while travelling to and from his panto run with Jane Asher.
Says Mack: “As far as Tim’s concerned if it’s one person sat, there it’s an audience.”
His process of preparing for a tour means weeks sat at a computer writing gags.
“Nine out of the ten won’t be heard. One of them will pass the test and I’ll try that out with about 20 others in a little club. Then 20 per cent of them will make it to the next stage. Eventually you have a rough one hour show and you book in some preview shows.
“I probably overbooked the previews to be honest but I didn’t want to take any risks.”
One of them was at Nottingham’s Just The Tonic at the end of last year.
“It’s a great club that,” says Mack, a team captain on the BBC panel game Would I Lie To You?
“I’ve done it loads of times over the years. Because comedy has got so big over the past few years -- it’s very much a big business -- there are very few old school promoters left. Those that are doing it for the right reasons and not solely for the money. Most would book whoever will bring in the most amount of people but those like Darrell (Martin) will still police it. If he thinks someone is cr*p, he won’t book them.”
Does he feel the need to mention Not Going Out in his stand-up show?
“I don’t but the audience do. I get asked about it every night.
“In fact it was because of that the news got out that it had been recommissioned. Someone shouted out ‘Is it going to be recommissioned?’ and I said ‘yes’. A reviewer was in and before you knew, it was in The Guardian.”
Of late comedians have been throwing out their autobiographies, many of whom are barely in to their career stride. Frankie Boyle, Justin Lee Collins, Alan Carr and Dara O’Briain published their’s in time for Christmas. So where’s his?
“I’m the kind of person who’d say I’d never write an autobiography but it’s a very easy moral decision to make when you’ve not been offered it. The test comes when they say ‘we’ll give you all this money...’ So I don’t know. I’d be very interested in writing a book. I’m not sure my life is that interesting.”
I beg to differ. Your grandfather was a music hall entertainer, you worked at Pontin’s as a Blue Coat, at the bingo... surely there’s a wealth of material?
“On paper. But you could be working in a boring office for ten years and have a lot of material from that, like The Office. A lot of comedy comes from the mundane. If I ask someone in the audience what they do for a living and they say ‘a circus clown’ there’s probably less material in that than someone who works at Curry’s.”
He adds: “In reviews and interviews it often comes up that Lee Mack was a Blue Coat or worked at the bingo and there’s a connotation with that of this wannabe showbiz person and that was completely not the case.
“I came through the alternative circuit in the 1990s.
“The bingo hall was just a job. And as a Blue Coat I was the sports organiser. I was never on stage. They had nothing to do with showbiz aspirations whatsoever.
“It used to annoy me but I quite like it now. I’m not as bothered about being as cool as I was ten years ago. I quite like the idea of being phenomenally uncool.”


Lee Mack, Royal Concert Hall, Nottingham, March 4, May 22, November 26. Tickets £18.50/£20.50, 0115 989 5555,
www.royalcentre-nottingham.co.uk

Tim Vine

January 2010

He loves a pun does Tim Vine, but he's not so keen on cats. Partway through our chat he breaks off and begins hammering on his lounge window. "Get out," he yawps. "There's a cat in my garden," says Vine by way of explanation.
"I'm not mad keen on them when they poo in my garden. I've got one those movement detector things so if a cat comes in the garden it sends off a high-pitched noise they don't like. But I think they've grown accustomed to it."
He adds: "I always thought it might be good for a horror film because when it's set off it makes this 'click' noise. And there have been occasions when I've come home late at night, my whole garden is in complete darkness and you just hear that 'click' noise. Meaning something is out there."
It's typical of Vine's creative mind. When not writing one-liners for his stand-up show or rehearsing lines for Not Going Out, in which he appears as Tim alongside Lee Mack as, erm, Lee, the 42-year-old younger brother of BBC presenter Jeremy Vine is thinking of new ideas.
For example, he's just finished panto in Richmond, Surrey with Jane Asher playing Muddles in Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. The pair of them would go swimming in between performances but while Asher did lengths, he'd be trying to invent new swimming strokes.
And while we're discussing Twitter (he's not on it), he comes up with Clutter as a good name for a social networking website.
Maybe he's trying to achieve something that'll make his parents view him with the same pride as his older brother.
"I think the default position is to back up the eldest, isn't it?," he laughs. "You could never criticise him because they'd say 'oh Tim, I wish you and Jeremy would get on'."
He admits that early on ma and pa Vine wondered what their youngest was doing pursuing a career in comedy.
"Now they see it is actually a job. And doing panto, they loved coming to that. And my brother's two daughters are five and three so their first experience of the panto was to see uncle Tim."
They also watched him over Christmas on Celebrity Wipeout, his latest TV appearance after Countdown, Neighbours and Celebrity Mastermind, which he won, with Elvis as his specialised subject.
"I'm a big Elvis fan," he says.
"Last year I passed my Elvis Death Day."
To anyone who isn't a fan this may sound odd but it's the day you reach the exact age of Elvis when he died: 42 years, seven months and eight days. He's excited that I know mine – it was last Sunday.
"Mine was October 12."
How did you commemorate it?
"I was in a restaurant eating at the time. I was on my own and in a slightly worrying way wanted to make conversation about it with three people on the next table. I shared it with them and (laughs) there was no interest there at all."
He adds: "It makes you realise that you're in a better position than he was at that age. There was a man who had absolutely everything. In the end things worked out better for me than him."
For all his TV exploits, Vine is probably most often recognised these days for Not Going Out, the BBC sitcom which will be returning at the end of the year. Ahead of that he has an extensive stand-up tour that comes to Nottingham next week, called Joke-a-motive.
"It's the same but different," he says of the show, which will be rich with his trademark puns.
"Where it was 'Black Beauty, he's a dark horse' or 'Velcro, what a rip off,' it may now be 'three cheers for rap music, hip-hop hooray'.
"I've not changed the satire, that's the important thing."
Although he could have been more prepared.
"I feel like I've missed a trick with merchandise. I wanted to get some Tim Vine dolls where you pull the chord and it says 'I never sleep with fish, I'm halibut'."

Tim Vine

January 2010


My weekend: Tim Vine

I'm in panto at the moment in Richmond in Surrey and it's two shows a day, six days a week, so I'll be doing that this weekend. It's not your typical weekend, is it?
It's like doing King Lear compared to what I normally do (laughs).
No, panto really suits what I do in stand-up – the stupid one-liners.
It's the third time I've done it. This time it's Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs and I play Muddles, who is a kind of Buttons figure – Snow White's idiot friend.
I thought of a joke for it the other day: You know that song Whistle While You Work? What if you're a glass blower?
Jane Asher is the big name. I discovered about three weeks ago that she sneaks off for a swim between shows. So I've taken to joining her. She says it's like taking a child swimming because I'm constantly trying to invent new strokes and shouting: "Jane! Look at this!"
There are two new swimming strokes I've invented. There's one called the pedalo, where you lay on your back and swim forward. As if you are pedalling a bike. Somehow it propels you forward. I've never seen anyone doing an entire length feet first.
The other one, which I've called the sea horse, I can't quite do yet. You lay on your front and go feet first again. It's like doing the Butterfly backwards. I thrash around in the pool not moving and people think "what's up with that bloke?".
The theatre is about 40 minutes in a taxi from my house and I've been practising my stand-up show for this tour in the taxi.
I'm beginning to sound like a local character, aren't I?
I tend to get the same driver each morning going to the theatre. I say the whole thing out loud and this poor chap's got to sit through it. I'm not waiting for laughs from him, I just plough on. It'd be terrible if I had to work the audience every time. It's just an exercise in trying to remember it.
My TV isn't up to much. I've only got four channels. And actually BBC Two dropped out for about six months but it's back now.
I do buy a lot of DVDs from the supermarket and think "I'll watch that later". I've got 10 I haven't seen yet: Moon, Who Killed Nancy?, Tootsie, Blood Diamond, Street Kings, In The Loop, Juno, The Devil Wears Prada and Children Of Men.
I like watching films. I went to the cinema to see Avatar the other day. Any good? Not really. Obviously the effects are incredible and I only saw it in 2D but it always boils down to the story, doesn't it? You think "oh, here comes a big fight scene so you can write off the next 20 minutes to fast camera movement". It's just boring. Maybe it's because I'm 42 but all I want is to be slightly surprised.
I don't keep fit, apart from swimming with Jane Asher. I did Total Wipeout, which was on TV over Christmas. I should have done some training for that. It was absolutely exhausting. The first time you fall off something all your energy goes.
I went on three ten-minute runs two months beforehand thinking "that's the training sorted".
It was fun but more fun after you'd done it and realised you'd not injured yourself.

Tim Vine appears at Nottingham Playhouse on Friday, January 29. Tickets are £16. Call 0115 941 9419.