Your current show is called Shot from Cannons. What is it about?
The first half is grampa throwing slippers at the TV. Angry American-British-centric rants. It’s an attempt to explain to Brits that they don’t really have any problems compared with what’s going on in America. This is pantomime. America is on the edge of the apocalypse. Britain is this ongoing shuffling of weird ghoulish political figures who are around for a while and then … next! They move on and somebody else comes out on stage. The second half of the show is very improvisational and very musical. It’s my favourite part and it’s way more interactive with the audience.
What’s your process for writing new material?
Audiences like to think you turn on this tap and it all pours out. But it’s really just a heightened awareness of news, human activity, small contradictions, and big contradictions in life. If I have an idea, I’ll sit down and try to flesh it out, but I have to have the idea first. I can’t just sit there and stare at that screen until something funny happens. It doesn’t work like that.
Can you recall a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
I was performing in Las Vegas and haphazardly walked up on stage and said: “What’s with all the recreational vehicles in the parking lot? What’s with all these Winnebagos? Who would pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to live like the homeless?” People got up and walked out. I just kept making fun of these RVs, and then I realised it was an RV owners’ convention. I reached the point some comedians experience where you just get this feeling of vindication by seeing how many people you can lose during a show. I cleared out about two-thirds of the room by the end.
Do you have any pre-show rituals?
One Snickers bar exactly 20 minutes before the show.
Who did you look up to when you were first starting out?
My comedy hero was a guy called Albert Brooks. I’m not sure Brits are familiar with him, and even a lot of Americans aren’t familiar with him. If they do know him it’s more for acting and films, going all the way back to Taxi Driver. He was a fearless performer. He would go on to television shows with something he’d never tried out before, he’d not done it in the clubs or anything, he’d just go out there and just wing it. He was great to watch.
What’s the best heckle you’ve heard?
“This show is so bad I want everybody’s money back.”
Last year there were rumours of a UK version of Saturday Night Live in the works. You were an SNL cast member for the 1984-85 season. Do you think the format would work with a British audience?
The format works if the people in the show are willing to put in the work. I’m not sure they understand how long the work week is for SNL, and how much money is involved. I can’t see anyone forking out the kind of budget that they have in America. If you’re not willing to go in there 12 hours a day, six days a week – that includes the writing crew, the cast, everyone – then no it’s not going to work. Because even after all that, most of the stuff on SNL doesn’t work anyway. People remember all the great sketches, and those get tons of re-exposure on YouTube, but there is a lot of forgettable stuff, and it took a week to do that. I don’t think it’s the British television mindset to produce something like that. I don’t think they’re willing to put that much manpower, studio space, production value and effort into it.
What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?
When I was starting out, I used to play this deli in the San Fernando Valley. They basically gave you 50 bucks and a sandwich. All the sandwiches were named after celebrities: the Bob Hope or the Bing Crosby or the Steve Martin. The owner called everybody chief. I’d say: “Stop calling me chief, my name is Rich Hall.” He said: “I don’t have to call you anything, I don’t care what your name is.” He handed me a menu and said: “Look at this menu. You’ll see that Burt Reynolds is just a Tom Selleck with a pickle.” It was quite humbling.
Rich Hall: Shot from Cannons is currently on tour. His new book Nailing It is out now from Quercus Books.
