Simon Munnery
Munnery is a performer that divides people. You either haven't heard of him, or you consider him a legend. Not a legend in the sense of greatness, but a literal legend - a near mythical character that reinvented comedy. Sandwiched somewhere in between Ted Chippington and Andy Kaufman, he redefined what being a comedian could mean back in the day.
NAC
Here's a joke you problem know, told by a comedian as an opening gag. "You only get invited to this venue twice, once on the way up, and then on the way down...it's good to be back". It's one of countless quips that have long since been woven into the lexicon of stand-up, but someone said it first. I'm pretty sure that person was Simon Munnery - he certainly said it back in 2005, when I first saw him at a very soggy Glastonbury - and he's been largely flying under the radar ever since. The archetypal comedian's comedian, in the nineties he was performing with Steve Coogan, Patrick Marber, Lee and Herring. "Whatever happened to them?" he joked, before launching into an anecdote that revolved around heart attacks and porridge.
So whatever ever happened to Munnery? He is a performer that divides people. You either haven't heard of him, or you consider him a legend. Not a legend in the sense of greatness, but a literal legend - a near mythical character that reinvented comedy. Sandwiched somewhere in between Ted Chippington and Andy Kaufman, he redefined what being a comedian could mean back in the day. To the extent he has a reputation it is one of being a bit odd. It was, therefore, more in the spirit of chin-stroking intrigue that I attended the Arts Centre, rather than in the expectation of belly laughs. What I didn’t expect was to spend time in the company of such a convivial, charming and downright silly man.
The evening started as I presumed it would carry on, with an inventive use of a colander, followed by a toilet roll hairpiece and a potty mouthed song about Putin. So far, so reliably strange. Once settled in, however, and following on from a remarkably spot on Michael Caine impression, Munnery became significantly more reflective. He has subtitled this new show 'Trials and Tribulations' and far from being a mere peg to hang gags off, he went on to discuss exactly what the title promised. In the first half of the show he outlined the two times he had cause to go to court, and proved to be a fine story teller, reminding me of the late, great Spalding Gray. It's not for me to reveal either the detail or the outcomes, but I will say the latter tale had me reminiscing over a long gone Edinburgh fringe of yesteryear. There were still jokes aplenty, notably a Venn diagram that should be pinned to the wall of every comedy venue in the land, but I was far more taken by the immersive eloquence of a tale well told.
After the interval we were served up tribulations, which were serial muggings and the previously mentioned mercy dash to the hospital. Along the way we had a tribute to his favourite supermarket that purposely went on far too long, a few more visual gags, a parody of the Archers, a poem or two and more besides that are best kept under wraps. He rounded the evening off by reading out a selection of his own jokes, otherwise completely out of context. They were all funny, and some were very funny, yet were delivered with a dismissive insouciance. I was reminded of Stewart Lee, a comic who readily admits to standing on Munnery’s shoulders, shouting “See - I can do jokes, I just choose not to.” Munnery seems cut from the same cloth. Whether its Bob Dylan impressions, bookless libraries or catching wreaths at his own funeral, he just seems more interested in doing something more challenging.
