yerse.co.uk

December 13, 2008

Comedy Uncovered - Sam Stoddard

This is the first in what may or may not be a long line of articles about underrated and unknown standup comedians.  And for my first venture into the world of writing aimlessly about a comedian, who better to focus upon than the much-maligned East Lancs-based joke merchant, Sam Stoddard?

Sam’s career began in 1999, when he somehow managed to get onto an open slot at the then-booming Doug’s Den club in Burnley.  The club, run by tedious ’70s racist standup Doug Darrow, was famous for its “you pay, you may possibly play, but it depends how we feel on the day (no refunds)” policy, and set a precedent for northern comedy venues until at least the mid-to-late 1980s.  The first time he climbed up on stage, he was dressed in a very similar fashion to the US pisstake-artist, Neil Hamburger, though of course in Sam’s case it was wholly unintentional as he had literally never seen any comedy before then in his life.  Despite his gawky suit and his horrendously sweaty forehead, he somehow managed to win both the crowd and the usually-hard to impress Darrow with his nervous and forced delivery, along with jokes that were so hackneyed you’d think whoever wrote them had been trapped inside a black cab when he’d put pen to paper.

His ‘career’, if you could call it that, spanned only another three years, and was plagued with cancelled shows, ludicrously greedy promoters,  an increasingly prominent stammer and a tendency to snap and insult his audiences viciously.  He now works as an area manager for Sainsbury’s, and runs seven stores in Lancashire.  His is the third most successful area in the North West.  He hasn’t told a joke since his last show, on February 13th, 2003, wherein he walked on stage covered in at least two kilos of macerated dog shit and proceeded to bawl like a baby for his alotted fifteen minutes.

We’re lucky enough to have a rare recording of one of his middle period shows for you to treat (or mistreat, depending on your tastes) your ears to.  From his Christmas 2000 set at Arrive Up My Arse (a seriously short-lived night two storeys underneath Manchester), an experimental set which involved him taking jokes he’d saved from crackers for all of the time previous to that set (though of course he’d never actually read them) and telling them to what would prove to be one of the most schizophrenic audiences ever recorded.  It also briefly features the late, great US comedian, Paul Beverowitz, who, unknown to literally everybody in the room (including Beverowitz himself), was suffering with terminal lung cancer at the time this recording was made.  Sadly Paul died only half an hour after this show ended.  He will be missed.

NEXT TIME IN COMEDY UNCOVERED - Ed Burzum