Jack Dee reveals he had ‘weird’ thoughts that he was ‘maybe meant to be a priest’-Rachel Corcoran-Entertainment – Metro

Jack Dee reminisces on his early years of comedy (Picture: Rex/Metro.co.uk)

Jack Dee, 61, on his years working as a waiter, thinking about priesthood, and getting in touch with your dark side in order to be an incisive comedian.

Have you had a busy start to the year?

Yes. We’ve recorded the 50th anniversary series of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue and I’m doing a tour of that. We’ve got Rory Bremner, Pippa Evans, Tony Hawks and Marcus Brigstocke, then sometimes Miles Jupp. It’s going to be fun because I get to tour with people for a change. I don’t have to just go back to my hotel room and cry.

You’ve also done a documentary about Tony Hancock. What attracted you to the project?

To have access to archives, artefacts and letters and to be able to delve deeper into the background and the character of someone you admire very much – who could resist doing that if you’re a fan?

Deadpan comedian Tony Hancock (Picture: George Konig/Rex)

How has he influenced you?

Once I started doing stand-up and people described me as deadpan I started to look to Tony Hancock and Jack Benny. Tony had that ability to transmit a thought and emotion with his face – and his writers, Galton and Simpson, recognised that from an early stage. There are long pauses in his radio stuff and it’s incredibly brave to do what they now call ‘dead air’. All you heard occasionally was a sigh.

I gather you learned a lot from your family, too?

My grandparents were storytellers – my dad and brother, too. I was the youngest so rather than participate, I absorbed it all and found myself doing it at school. When you’ve got a good gag, you’ve got something to take to school with you. You know who you’re going to tell it to and who you’re going to make laugh with it. And then from that emerges this idea of improvising and making your own comedy.

Jack at the British Comedy Awards in 2007 (Picture: Gareth Davies/Getty)

Didn’t your mum tell you not to become a comedian?

Well, to do her justice, her parents and grandparents had been on stage. She understood that it was a feast-or-famine existence. And that if you’re going to be an actor, that means you won’t earn money. I wanted to be an actor from about 16 onwards. My drama teacher at sixth-form college cast me as Petruchio in The Taming Of The Shrew and it was such a landmark in my life because it was the first successful thing I did in my whole school career. I was not a good student so I failed to get into university, which is a shame but it shaped what happened to me.

And if you’re going to be an actor, you have to get a trade, so my mum suggested I get a job as a waiter. But something was brewing all through those years when I was working in restaurants. I ended up looking into all kinds of weird things, like I thought maybe I’m meant to be a priest. Eventually I couldn’t ignore the need to perform any longer and it all fell into place.

Jack and RuPaul at the 1994 BRIT Awards (Picture: JMEnternational/Getty)

In the documentary you talk about comedians having a clear sense of tragedy…

I think that comedy and tragedy are two sides to the same coin. If you have an acute sense of the tragic, if you’re lucky, it will be balanced by an acute sense of the comedy. That’s why a lot of comedians get into a very dark place eventually. Not only Tony Hancock but Robin Williams and many others who’ve suffered and thankfully recovered from drug addiction and alcoholism and things like that.

It’s not to say that anyone else wouldn’t find those pitfalls but in the cases of these people you’d expect them to find life endlessly hilarious, so it comes as a shock that they don’t, and the opposite is often the case. I don’t think Hancock would have been the comedian he was had he not had this bleak outlook. Comedy requires that ingredient of darkness – we’re all trying to avoid a reality with comedy.

The life of comic legend Robin Williams ended tragically (Picture: Ethan Miller/Getty)

Does it help to have battled demons to be a good comedian?

I don’t think you need to be f***ed-up to be a comedian necessarily. There are some people who have just got a wonderful sense of comedy and are able to articulate it. But if we’re lucky, and we work on it, we’re able to process the difficulties and sadnesses in our life and present them as comedy to an audience. And that can be cathartic for the performer and sometimes for the audience.

More: Sixty Seconds

Do you watch much comedy?

I really don’t. The closest I get is something like White Lotus. There are bits I find on YouTube because it gets sparked up to you but I really tend not to because I don’t want to pick up anything from another comedian. It’s very easy to get contaminated by a mannerism or another comedian’s logic on something and then you’re losing touch with your own comedy voice. It’s not at all through any sense of peevishness, it’s just that I need to stay independent from it. It’s not to say I’m not a fan of huge numbers of them. There are a lot of comedians I love – Bill Burr is probably a favourite at the moment.

Dee presents Tony Hancock: Very Nearly An Armful tomorrow at 8pm on Gold. Colourised versions of two Hancock’s Half Hour episodes are on straight after

MORE : Jack Dee: I went from working in a restaurant for £20 a night to being a comedian for £50 a night

MORE : Jack Dee says he ‘worries’ about British comedy as he calls out offended PC culture

Got a story?

If you’ve got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the Metro.co.uk entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@metro.co.uk, calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we’d love to hear from you.

Entertainment – MetroRead More