We start on Monday with some positively maternal warming up from Lynne Parker but by Thursday, we are tasked with writing a Wonderwall parody in seven minutes. I would suggest even Mitch Benn would wrestle with that.
This quintet of hours – one of a series of comedy courses run by Funny Women throughout this year’s festival - has been pretty much nothing that I expected and many things I did not. It is most certainly not a week of “how to” but I know we all come away having learned a lot. In the interests of full disclosure, I genuinely expected to dislike more. I have worries about the number of courses there are, too many of which are the very epitome of “those who can, do, those who can't teach”.
I am also, or so I thought, rampantly intolerant of women-only spaces. However, I loved this eclectic collection of funny, different women, both leaders and learners, and got a huge amount from the unexpected choice of topics for the workshops. This is an experience that could not, I think, be had unless it were women only. There is a feeling of such security and such acceptance combined with a complete lack of a sense of competition that comedy becomes something different from anything you see behind a mike, something organic, something inviting. The hours are all wildly interactive (and kudos to Emily on the control screen who tries to follow the bouncing funny). One thing that strikes me is that at no point in any hour does anyone attempt to 'top' anyone else. That, in a specifically comedy environment, is a first for me. Improv workshops used to tell you to “accept, and build” and that is exactly what happens here.
Lynne Parker runs the first hour and, although my hackles have an immediate erection when she announces that we are going to “share our journey” with each other, my fellow Zoomers are so immediately engaging and fascinating that the erection subsides immediately.. We pair up for a fascinating exercise in communication that is, announces Lynne “exciting because we don't know if it will work”. It does, brilliantly. By the end of it we know one of us has one boob, another has nine children, there is a lot of autism around and the Americans have no idea what the Women's Institute is. I am also introduced to the concept of “huddle anxiety” We are hooting with laughter, although no one is doing any gags.
“Your biggest source of comedy is you,” says Lynne. And so far, she is pretty spot on.
The second hour is led by Sally Holloway who gives my hackles their second erection as she extolls the powers of confessional comedy. “The highest art form,” she says “It links us all as human beings.” But by the time we are all doing our Zoomy goodbye waving (always with both hands, have you noticed ?), I am considering simply having my hackles amputated because, as we mine each other for our experiences and foibles, and confess to both, it turns into another sixty minutes laughing out loud (four to six laughs per minute is what you will be told is required of a headliner and we smashed it) at no actual gags whatsoever. Turns out Sally has a point.
I am beginning to enjoy and seriously respect this kind of soft-edged, personal, warmly earthy, humour that happens when women get funny in a group. It combines the comedies of recognition, shock, embarrassment and relief and, with ten women stirring the pot, it is a heady brew. The challenge, in today's comedy industry, then becomes taking the group apart, standing each member (as it were) behind a microphone and having them find the confidence of that same funny all on their own. This course has turned me into a massive Sarah Millican fan. Because that is what she does and, alone on a stage, it is much tougher than it looks. Tougher to do well, arguably, than what Sally somewhat dismissively refers to as “just standing there doing pun after pun” (Tim Vine, in case you didn't recognise the description).
Wednesday offers up advice about taking comedy online and, when we get to the showcase at the end of the week, it is obvious that several of us on the course feel happier in video. For the moment, anyway. Sophie McCartney is a positive, energetic guide and I leave with the feeling that the sheer breadth and malleability of formatting possibilities online could – used intelligently – really suit a lot of women whose comic style might not fare so well on the circuit.
Thursday's hour is hilarious for so many reasons. Lucy Ryan, aka burlesque diva Ivy Paige, is here to get us thinking about our physicality on stage. Warm up exercises involving the shimmy, bump and grind develop an extra level of enjoyment brought by Zoom, when Louise pops up on screen to tell us “I'm in a kids' playground so I am going to get some looks”, and our attempts at seductive eyebrows and falling in love with the nearest object to us are high risk for Emma, who is in a pub car park.
However we all join in wholeheartedly, although my eyebrows have not been seductive since 1979. Then there is the Wonderwall parody, of which the women make a generally decent fist. This is another terrific, honest, warm, funny hour and the lessons drawn from it are in evidence all over the Friday showcase.
These four hours – at the risk of being accused of hyperbole (rarely a bad thing in comedy) – have been a life changing experience for me. I do not think the description “Crash Comedy Course” fits it any more than “Funny Old Broad” described Joan Rivers. “Women brought something to comedy – a grasp of narrative – and changed it for the better,” says Lynn, at the beginning of the week. If this week is anything to go by, they certainly have that power.
Funny Women’s comedy courses continue this week with a crash course for 11- 16 year olds. www.funnywomen.com
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