James MacFarlane talks with Will Owen about his show Like, Nobody’s Watching.
I love being a debutant, it makes me feel like a glamorous regency figure who is about to embark on an illicit, homoerotic affair with a future king
Will, how would you describe your style of comedy?
What’s been great about developing an hour is that my style has been able to evolve. My shorter sets are quite acerbic, but I’ve been able to lean into building stories more in the longer show. I think my stuff is all underpinned by a strong irony and silliness; I grew up on a diet of reality TV shows and the language of those shows is so quixotic and that has really inspired my own turn of phrase. I think it’s hilarious how many times people have said something is ‘the biggest moment of their lives’, and it’s literally them baking a loaf cake – so in my stand up, I try to capture that overstretch but with stories from my life. Agonising over the consequences of something utterly inconsequential is a running theme in my stuff.
This is your Fringe debut. How are you feeling about it and was a Fringe run always on the cards for you?
Oh god, this is such a fateful question. I love being a debutant, it makes me feel like a glamorous regency figure who is about to embark on an illicit, homoerotic affair with a future king. But in reality, I have been trying to not think about my show as a ‘debut’ - and have more just tried to build the best show I can with what’s interesting to me. It’s a fairly thematic show, about someone who grew up watching game shows and competition formats, and now sees the world in those terms. As for the Fringe, as we all know, it is a perfect institution with literally no flaws, and that is why I am doing it! Jokes aside, it just felt like the best place to take a full show, so I really hope it finds its audience.
Earlier in the year, you created a queer comedy night in Hackney. How important is queer visibility to you in your comedy and onstage?
I honestly thank my lucky stars every day that I am someone who is gay. It’s really important that I am visibly queer onstage, because I need my audience to respect me. Heterosexuality is so passé. Having said that, some straight people have really made me laugh in the past, and that’s been edifying and humbling for sure. Personally, I don’t really like coming out explicitly onstage, because it feels like I would be doing that to put an audience at ease, rather than because it’s necessary to anything I’m saying. That said, I am openly gay onstage, and that’s mainly because of literally everything that I say.
You’ve said that you struggled with shame and negativity at school regarding your identity. Did you always use humour as a way to turn this into a positive?
I really wish that my stand-up comedy career was a rich, compelling revenge narrative to prove my past feelings wrong, but alas it is borne out of a desire to get attention. And that stems from Year Two when my dad said that a boy called Jamie had done a funny improv line during our assembly about Queen Boudica. I have been trying to outrun Jamie’s ebullient star quality ever since, despite the fact I have not seen him for fourteen years. That aside, I do think my comedy is camp, and I think that gets a bad rep - people think its superficial or base, and I think that stems from femmephobia. I actually think being camp is a very multi-faceted technique - it’s all about being knowing, about embracing the ridiculousness of our existence. I have had to actively reclaim it in my comedy; it was definitely something I used to be more ashamed of, but now love being and think it makes my performance richer.
Do you have any acts that you’re looking forward to seeing?
That’s a lovely question. I loved Zoe Brownstone’s show when I saw a preview recently, so I can’t wait to see its final form. John Tothill is also brilliant. Generally, I’m just excited to see all the shows I’ve had teased for so long on Instagram - and maybe one really serious spoken word play, to remind me of the road not taken.
