‘Life is a series of happy hours and mornings of shame…’
The last time I saw iconic American comedian Doug Stanhope was in the comedy tent at Leeds Festival circa 2009. On that day, the young liberal crowd completely misunderstood his act (particularly a long section about the recently elected Barack Obama) and he was booed off stage. A reaction that he delighted in, naturally. As I took my seat at the Leeds Academy on a balmy Saturday night in September, I wondered to myself whether Doug may have mellowed in his old age. When his opening gambit involved informing the crowd that he had been performing this whole tour while taking edibles every night and then went on to ponder whether he enjoyed the pandemic or 9/11 more (the former was relaxing, but the latter was so exciting!), it was clear that, if anything, Stanhope has only become more wild in his dotage…
Like some grotesque mix of Hunter S. Thompson, 70s era Tom Waits and Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, Stanhope holds forth on a number of thorny and controversial topics during his freewheeling 90 minute set. Abortion, paedophilia and conspiracy theories are all examined and exposed in his unique and hilarious style in a set that is often genuinely shocking, but crucially, is always funny and powerful. His conclusion that conspiracy theories used to be fun, but now they have been completely ruined is spot on, as is his take on cancel culture – that being that all it takes is a cultural shift in perspective for anyone to be on the wrong side of history.
As ever, his idiosyncratic style is intact, often he will start a sentence or three, only to completely abandon them and move on to something else. In the inside pocket of his absurd mustard coloured suit jacket, Stanhope keeps his ‘high notes’. A piece of paper on which he has handwritten a bunch of stuff that occurred to him when high that now have no meaning (‘what’s the point of cold butter?’). But being rough around the edges and unpredictable is the Stanhope way. As he correctly points out when discussing how he has had many a plus one dragged along to his shows only to complain that they ‘didn’t pay $50 to see an old man ranting about shit’… yes, you did. That’s exactly what we’re here for.
The show ends with a long and occasionally painful bit about the death of his dog (all tied up with the death of his mum) in which he proposes the bacon test. Basically, if any creature, human or otherwise, passes on the opportunity to enjoy some perfect bacon (‘crispy, but not too crispy’) then you know it’s time for them to go the same way as old Yella. It’s a suitably confrontational conclusion – smart, unique and funny – the perfect sign off for one of the most vital comedians working today. And hey, if he does get cancelled, he can always resort to ‘the last bastion of free speech’ that is pornography.
A great show from a comedy icon. Leeds is lucky to have him.