Doug knows no bounds
10:04am Thursday 2nd February 2012 in Theatre By Kat Dibbits
Doug knows no bounds
IT’S 2 o’clock in the afternoon in Arizona, and Doug Stanhope has just woken up — six hours after going to bed.
The comedian has had what can, by the sounds of it, be fairly described as “a heavy one” and his breakfast menu sounds like he’s gearing up for another.
“I’m going to have to throw some rum into fruit smoothie,” he says. “Coconut rum.”
So how’s he feeling after such a late night?
“I’m a wreck of a human being,” he says. “I’m a shell but I’m fantastic.”
We are talking at brunchtime his time, late evening mine, because after a winter off “watching football,” Stanhope is about to head back out on the road with a 33-date tour of the UK which opens in Bolton on March 6.
“How can you not look forward to leaving this paradise for winter in the UK,” he says drily (although what he says actually includes profanities unsuitable for a family newspaper, as does much of his speech. You’ll have to mentally insert them yourselves, readers). He seems to have a change of heart when he considers that he will be largely able to avoid the capital, however.
“I’m looking forward to it because it’s not London,” he says. “I did five weeks in Leicester Square and it almost made me give up comedy so I wouldn’t have to do it again. London is the worst place I’ve ever been, including jail.
“This time we’re on the road. We’re going to some towns that even my manager, who’s British, hasn’t heard of. That’s what the road is — you go, you perform a show, you get messed up then you leave and watch all your problems disappear in the rear-view mirror.”
Oddly enough, Bolton isn’t one of those towns Doug hasn’t heard of.
“Every time I hear the word Bolton it reminds me, when we were kids we watched Monty Python and there was that line,” here he adopts a dodgy British accent, “‘and to stop us from revealing the name of your lover in Booolton,’” he says. “I’m very excited to be there.”
Does he notice a big difference between audiences here in Britain and those in America?
“Over there in England you have to live up to expectations,” he says. “Here if people don’t get a joke it’s probably because they were Twittering while you were talking.”
“I’m sure the threat of violence is a lot higher,” he adds, although he doesn’t quantify on which side of the Atlantic he means. “I have no idea what to expect. This is going to be like a manic depression tour — one night you’re great, you push it, you go too far, then the next day you’re in a spiral of shame, you hate yourself and the show is awful. If you like it one night, you probably shouldn’t come back the next. It’s like a rollercoaster. Deciding which show to go to will be like roulette.”
Unsurprisingly, Stanhope has had his share of controversy, and God only knows what will happen if the Daily Mail send a reviewer to any of his UK dates. Paedophilia, abortion, anti-Semitism — no subject is off limits.
“I wish there was something that seems out of bounds, but nothing does,” he says, sounding almost mournful. Superficially offensive, what Stanhope actually does is inflict an initial shock with the sort of joke Frankie Boyle might consider ‘a bit much’ (“I love doing smut,” he says), then follow it up with a boozily profound rant on a ‘big’ topic. In many ways, the person he most resembles is our own Charlie Brooker, whose show Screenwipe he made a series of guest appearances on, and which he describes as “even funnier than Jon Stewart. It’s darker, more brooding”. Being, as we are, in an election year, he might be expected to tackle the madhouse of American politics, but Stanhope seems bored by the idea.
“I’m a football fan,” he says. “Politics, people think it matters, but it doesn’t matter any more than football. If Mit Romney is the next president or if the Giants win the Superbowl, I’m still the same guy in the morning.”
He pauses, seemingly overwhelmed by the irritation of it all.
“I feel redundant even still shouting about it, but there will always be something to rant about.”
• Doug Stanhope plays the Albert Halls, in Bolton, on March 6. Tickets cost £20 and are strictly adults only. To book, visit alberthalls-bolton.co.uk or ring 01204 334400.
