John Cleese is funny. Fiona Sturges is not. Neither, somewhat problematically, is Hannah Gadsby. Of course we all know John Cleese. He is a giant of comedy, the genius behind Monty Python and Fawlty Towers. I doubt you know Fiona Sturges. She is a freelance arts writer who recently penned a column in the Guardian criticizing Cleese for favourable comparing his classics to modern comedy. Sturges prefers Hannah Gadsby, who you probably don’t know either. She’s an Australian lesbian who has comedy show on Netflix which Sturges thinks is a ‘masterwork’. Gadsby claims to be a comedian, but like so many of her contemporaries she is of course more of a social commentator. To the untrained eye it is difficult to infer that she is even trying to be funny. If you don’t believe me, take a look for yourself. From her message of perceived oppression to the tears (!) and the depressing background music, the trailer for her show prompts a feeling of gloom, not laughter. To Sturges, that seemingly doesn’t matter. What is important is the message, and Gadsby’s is of social justice and a denouncement of the shadowy patriarchy – what unbridled joy! Today’s funny-men (and women…) have apparently ceased to serve the traditional function of comedy: that of making the audience laugh.
And despite the sold-out arena tours and superstar status enjoyed by today’s stand-ups, audiences seem to agree with Cleese: the old days were better. In a 2015 YouGov poll of favourite UK sitcoms Only Fools and Horses came out on top and happened to be the only show in the top 10 which original broadcast lasted beyond 1990 – it came to an end in 1991. This may be ascribed to nostalgia – but Blackadder was the favourite show amongst 18-24 year-olds and Fawlty Towers scored higher for younger audiences than over-60s. More recent hits like Miranda and Men Behaving Badly have not aged so well. It may be that audiences flock to stand-up not because they like the comedians but because they like comedy – and simply will have to make due with what’s on offer.
British comedians may not be what they used to be, but what the current crop lack in comic timing they make up for in political awareness. Some are arguably more political activists than comedians, like Russell Brand or Eddie Izzard; others cram their shows with political material, like Russell Howard or Frankie Boyle. The vast majority are of course left-wing.
And most likely it is the politically correct, left-wing monoculture that lies behind the sorry state of British comedy. A former head of comedy at the BBC recently admitted that a show featuring ’six Oxbridge white men’ would not stand a chance of getting commissioned today. In other words, in the present climate Monty Python would never have seen the light of day.
As political correctness has made more and more subjects no-go areas it is of course harder to write good jokes. Too many topics are off the table. Jokes are no longer allowed – literally – to offend; several people have been arrested for making jokes, most famously Count Dankula, who was fined for teaching his dog a Nazi salute.
Luckily there are a few sane voices left. Rowan Atkinson, another great of the golden generation, has been vocal in his critique of the UK’s draconian hate speech laws. A few contemporary comedians also buck the trend and speak out against political correctness and its suffocating effects on comedy and general debate, most notably Ricky Gervais.
But they are fighting a seemingly lost cause, hopelessly outnumbered and vilified for their stance. We may have to get used to social commentary as Saturday night entertainment. And maybe we don’t need comedy anymore, as reality seems to sometimes have overtaken it. In The Life of Brian, Monty Python pokes fun at transsexuals and women’s rights in a conversation that these days perceivably could take place at the dinner table. We live in strange times indeed. Strange, but not funny.