Showing posts with label Heat magazine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heat magazine. Show all posts

Kevin Bishop Talks Sketch-Writing

A few weeks back, I visited Channel 4 to interview Kevin Bishop for heat magazine. The occasion? The second series of his ticklesome sketch-fest The Kevin Bishop Show, which will soon hit our televisual screens. Perhaps contrary to the impression you might have formed of the man, thanks to the often vicious nature of his show, or his riotously boozy behaviour at last year's British Comedy Awards, he came across as a perfectly likeable guy. Loud, confident and a right old laugh. Furthermore, the clips I saw of the new run - with new characters including a hilarious 'Hugh Laurie' as Doctor House, constantly slipping out of his American accent into 'What-ho!' English - were very funny indeed.

The heat interview is in the latest issue of the magazine, out right now. What follows, though, are some exclusive excerpts from our chat, which touched upon the business and the mechanics of comedy, and sketch-writing in particular. Enjoy.

Your show’s even faster than The Fast Show, isn’t it?
“We actually delivered more sketches this year, and had a fantastic writing period before filming. We write the whole show in around six or seven weeks. It’s mental. Literally no sleep!”

Are your sketches literally not allowed to last for more than one minute?
“It’s not the rule – I think we might have one or two which are two minutes long. But we have to be brutally honest with each other – when performers have too much control over their own vehicles, they can be a little bit self-indulgent and drag their performacnes out. If you watch a sketch show, you might think, ‘Wow, that’s a really good performance from that actor and it’s really funny… but it goes on for three minutes’. Then they tell that same joke six times in a series. It goes from something which was brilliant, to slightly irritating and a bit boring. So we didn’t want to get into that. If it was left to me, like most actors I’d probably go, ‘Fucking hell! This is gold! I’m really good in this! Let’s make it four minutes long’. That’s why you need a good producer to sit there and go, ‘It’s finished. Move on’. That’s why I had very little to do with the edit, because we’d probably argue.”

Is comedy a riskier business to try your luck at, than drama?
“Much riskier, in this country - because people actually get offended if you don’t make them laugh! You can get killed for that. I was talking to Eddie Izzard the other day, who asked me why I don’t do stand-up. And it’s because I couldn’t bear someone telling me to fuck off while I was onstage. I’ll do theatre, where people will applaud while turning to their partner and murmuring, ‘That was shit’, but they won’t shout, ‘Fuck off – you’re shit!’. That’ll never happen to you in theatre… hopefully! Stand-ups are so tough. They’re robust. I’m quite envious of a lot of stand-ups and their bravery. But to be a good stand-up, you need to go out there and bare your soul. As an actor, I’m not comfortable with that. The minute you tell people who you are, the parameters of what you can achieve become narrowed. If they know who you are, the game’s up.”

What makes a perfect sketch? Are there any absolutes?
“Well, the good thing about sketch stuff, is that it can be anything. I remember having this argument with a TV executive. We’d written some sketches that we thought were great, and he said, ‘It doesn’t fit the rest of the show’. And my argument was: how can a sketch not fit in a sketch show? It doesn’t matter what it is: a sketch can be anything. That’s why we did The Kevin Bishop Show. I did a sketch show, years ago, called Spoons, which was a Channel 4 show about relationships. You do a series and suddenly go, ‘Where are we gonna take the next one? All the sketches have got to be about relationships’. So with our show, we chose television – and there are areas of television that we haven’t even touched. National Geographic, Babestation, MTV… we could go into some areas. The ideal sketch can be anything that’s funny… but quick. I do think that. If you watch old Peter Cook and Dudley Moore sketches, or the Dead Parrot sketch in Monty Python… the parrot sketch is an epic. It goes for, like, 10 minutes. It’s still funny and they pull it off – but nowadays, I think it has to be ‘Idea, joke, it’s funny, okay, now move on’. That’s it.”

Does a sketch have to be about one thing?

“Yeah. With sketch shows, you need to keep people’s short attention span. Increasingly, especially younger audiences, are becoming less focused. The Fast Show had long sketches involving Ted and Ralph, which would go on and on, but there was something so great about it. Those characters were so complex that they drew you in. It was like watching a film, which is fine. But in our show, we’ve got to shoot 10 sketches in a day. You have to get in there, hit the note and get out.”

Is ending a sketch the hardest part?
“Yeah, you’ve got to have a good ‘out’, or there’s absolutely no point in doing a sketch. Every now and again, one of those little sketches will pop up, and you go, ‘Where’s the out on this fucking sketch? It’s rubbish’. You’ve got to have some sort of pay-off at the end, otherwise it’s irritating when this thing you’ve just watched for two minutes just… ends, and that’s it. The characer stuff isn’t so bad, because it’s the character that’s funny throughout. Whereas if you’re telling a joke throughout and you don’t have a punchline, it’s totally pointless.”

Your show is an interesting mix of the topical and the random. A deliberate policy?
“Topicality’s not my department, see - that’s all down to Lee [Hupfield, producer and co-writer]. I’ll happily come up with characters all the time. I’ll sit in a room with writers and do some impressions of people I know, and we’ll come up with a character. Whereas Lee will want to do a sketch on Christian Bale, after the incident in the hotel with his mum and his sister. Like, if we were filming this now [a week after Michael Jackson’s death], we’d be doing a Michael Jackson sketch today. That’s the way that Lee works – it has to be of the minute, right now. It’s a good and bad thing – there isn’t any comedy quite like this, but the bad thing is that you might watch in three years’ time and go, ‘Jesus!’. It dates very, very quickly, which we’re aware of.”

Perhaps unusually for a sketch-show performer, you enjoy treading theatrical boards. How’d you enjoy being in Fat Pig, before Christmas?

“It was absolutely brilliant, like a gift. I’d just finished my show and Star Stories, then got married and been on my honeymoon. It was great to be offered the play, and I took Kris Marshall’s role. Such a funny play. [Playwright] Neil LaBute has become a good friend now. I love doing theatre. That’s where I started years ago, then you get swept away doing stuff. In England, people are very keen to pigeon-hole you, so that they can say ‘He does that’. But I’ve always enjoyed playing a whole range of different characters...”

Is there such a thing as going too far with humour?
“I think you can go too far, when something ceases to be funny. All the time it’s funny, right or wrong, it’s still serving a purpose. We’re not out to offend, but… when you go and see a stand-up comic, there’s nothing less funny than knowing what they’re going to say. Laughter tends to happen when an audience are slightly nervous, in anticipation of what you’re gonna say. But there have been a couple of things we’ve done this year, where we’ve looked at each other and asked if it was too much. Then we just decide to let Channel 4 decide!”

Have Channel 4 vetoed much, then?

“I can only speak about last year, because they actually won’t me about this year, in case I kick off! So I might be watching this series, going, ‘Whatever happened to that sketch?’ and someone will tell me, ‘Yeah, we binned it’. And often, those are my favourite sketches! Last series, Fred West Side Story was one of my favourite sketches I’ve ever done, and yet it received hundreds of complaints...”

The Kevin Bishop Show returns to Channel 4 on Friday, July 31.

Spooks & The Unpredictable

Do you have a diary? Flip it open for me, and if you haven't already, insert "Watch Spooks on BBC One" in the entry for next Monday. This weekend, I watched the first three episodes of the new season (in order to write a preview for heat magazine, Kudos lawyers!), and they're as tremendous as I'd hoped.

Why do I love Spooks? Let me count the ways. Topping the list, if I'm honest, is Peter Firth's performance as MI5's Section D chief Harry Pearce. The man carries such gravitas and presence, while barely raising his voice above a near-whisper. Rupert Penry-Jones, too, has cemented himself into the show as unflappable action hero Adam Carter. Hermione Norris endlessly fascinates as nails-hard ice maiden Ros Myers, and I can honestly say there isn't a single weak link among the rest of the ensemble.

Spooks' plotting is exemplary, with storylines twisting and constantly rotating to reveal different sides and bigger pictures. Then there's the sheer pace of the beast - it's a rare episode of Spooks which doesn't hit the ground running, at such a fair old clip that you wonder what can possibly happen for the rest of the hour.

Vitally, Spooks is also one of the few continuing dramas where you constantly fear for all of the characters' lives. No-one is safe, as we've seen from a number of shocking fatalities over the past six seasons. This makes it consistently exciting.

Talking about unpredictability, here's something I've realised about my favourite TV characters, who are the aforementioned Harry Pearce, the Doctor, Boyd from Waking The Dead and Vic Mackey from The Shield. Something unites them all: you never know for sure how they're going to react to anything. Perhaps that's something to aspire to as a writer, if you see the appeal in this - creating a character who's well-drawn, but never predictable. Consistently unpredictable, in fact...

Note: Let's keep any comments spoiler-free for Spooks seasons past and present, even after the new episodes air.

The Celeb Diaries Are Open

The Celeb Diariesis the book which Mark Frith left heat magazine to write. It was released today in every good book store near you. My copy arrived in the post today, which was nice, and I look forward to devouring this frightening frank account of the great man's triumphant decade at heat. If you've ever been curious about what it must be like to edit a celebrity mag which sells half a million copies per week, then get your copy now.

The Fear & Midnight

So here it is, the last day of my seven-month period of being Acting Reviews Editor at heat magazine. Recently, I also completed what will be my last Doctor Who Magazine articles for a while, which will be published in next month's issue 397. The idea is now to script like nobody's business, having been given so much more free time.

Free time which now, of course, seems quite frightening...

I'm gutted to have ended my part-time work at heat, and to be taking a break from Doctor Who Magazine: I 100% love writing for those magazines. But this screenwriting lark takes time. Not to mention sacrifices. And while I'm mindful of Phill Barron's annoyingly sensible ruminations on The Starving Artist - damn that man, and his common sense - sometimes you've just got to bite the bullet.

Hmmm, yes.

As long as that bullet doesn't explode, I'll be fine. And of course, it's very exciting, to have given myself an open road.

But talking of frightening, I today watched Midnight, episode 10 of this Doctor Who season. I'm telling you nothing about it, apart from these adjectives: scary, unnerving, brave, bizarre and brilliant. Doctor Who has never seen anything like it. Neither has the world, come to think of it. If anyone's still thinking that nonsense about Russell T Davies being unable to 'do' dark, then this should change their mind.

And before Midnight, we've got this magnificent Moffat two-parter, starting tomorrow night, which is also all of those adjectives. Happy days.

Mark Frith Has Left The Building

Friday was emotional. Mark Frith's last day as editor of heat magazine.

Mark is leaving a pursue a career in book-writing: his debut The Celeb Diaries will be published through Ebury in the Autumn. He has been at heat's tiller for 10 years now, since heat started life as Project J, in 1998. I started writing for them then, too, which was very different to writing for them today. For one thing, there were live reviews! I went to Norwich to review a Gay Dad gig for heat, and also covered the abominable Kula Shaker at London's 100 Club. For a while, I compiled a gig guide section too. Madness.

Then Mark steered his ship in a different direction, making it more celebrity-led and more of interest to women (although their boyfriends would sneak a read too). Heat's circulation swung up from 60,000 to more like ten times that, and secured itself a furrow in an eternally volatile, fickle market.

I can honestly say that Mark is the finest, most impressive and certainly tallest magazine editor I've ever worked with. Absolutely sure of himself and his decisions, while remaining one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet, he's the very antithesis of editors who resort to throwing random strops in some misguided quest for respect. He also has a great way of making direct orders sound like casual suggestions. Which really is harder than it seems.

There were emotional speeches in the heat office, as well as many gifts and a special quiz for Mark about the hundreds of issues of heat he'd toiled over. We then moved to a room in the club Century where alcohol was consumed and video screens showed messages for him from members of the team and a few celebs. Even though I don't doubt that heat will remain in very safe hands, it has to be said that, without Mark Frith, it will never be the same again. It's the end of an era. Or of course, if you happen to hate celebrity magazines, an error.

My own mini-era of filling in on the mag as Acting Reviews Editor will end later this month: I've loved my time in this post - I swear that heat's is the only office I could ever work in full-time - but it's time to revert to freelance life. See, there's the little matter of building a full-on screenwriting career. This summer will be all about script-writing, hard work and drinking beer. It's already shaping up to be a scorcher.

P.S. Writer/director Edgar Wright's summer just got a spring in its step too: here he is on his MySpace blog, reacting to the cancellation of the US version of Spaced.

A Great Moment At Heat Magazine

Every week, heat magazine holds a TV meeting. This involves ploughing through lots of PI (programme information) and determining what we should preview in the next issue, while eating various calorific foodstuffs.

At one recent meeting, TV editor Boyd Hilton peered at a synopsis of a forthcoming EastEnders episode.

"Minty is dead!" he exclaimed. We all inhaled, gasped and generally expressed windy surprise at the revelation that Cliff Parisi's character was to tumble off the twig.

Then Boyd took a closer look.

"Oh no," he said, correcting himself. "Minty is dead excited."

Crazy Pencil Action... Busy Busy... Exciting Stuff...

Just sent boxes of pencils to six US movie studio moguls, courtesy of this here blog, with thanks to that port-swilling fool Piers for flagging it up. It's a symbolic type thang, to show them that writers would kinda like to be paid for online content in future. Not much to ask, you'd imagine. It's also amusing to picture their bemused expressions, and frantic calls to assistants to do something about the shedload of pencils in their lobby. It's really easy to do, as the site uses PayPal as their engine. Nice.

Things are mad at present. When I look at my calendar for the rest of the year, it makes my brow furrow. Started as heat's Acting Reviews Editor on Tuesday, which is tremendous fun but lots to get my head around. I'm simultaneously preparing to swoop into the second draft of the feature-length ASK script. Director Dan had very nice things indeed to say about the first draft, which was incredibly encouraging. Now it's just a matter of stepping it up a level. Then another. And, indeed, another.

In other exciting news, Dan showed me rough chunks of the short Look At Me, which was seriously thrilling. I kept getting him to rewind one scene in particular, and especially can't wait to see the finished version of that, with music, grading and all that crazy technical stuff. Not to mention the CGI content (yes, it's got CG and everything!) which will be developed over coming weeks. Marvellous stuff.

In yet more exciting news, I interviewed former Doctor Who Peter Davison this afternoon, for Doctor Who Magazine. That'll be an ambition realised, then. Not only is he the first pre-millennium Doctor I've interviewed, but he and Tom Baker were always 'my' Doctors in the 70s and early 80s. Thankfully, Peter was a lovely, laidback, funny bloke. He was also sporting an incongruous beard, what with still performing in the West End's Spamalot by night. And I didn't call him Doctor once, or indeed ask for a quick spin in the TARDIS. Phew.

The Heat Is On

It was announced in the heat office today, so I can now tell you: I'm going to be the magazine's Reviews Editor for a while. At least three months. Very cool indeed.

The main thrust of my career is still, needless to say, screenwriting. That won't change. But I was especially attracted to this opportunity because it will take me three days per week - and flexible days at that. A handy halfway house between the chaotic wilds of freelancing and the security/constraint of full-time office toil. Also, as I've blogged before, I love heat - the mag, the people, the everything. So hooray!

I start November 12. Between now and then, several other great things will happen...

(1) The Look At Me short will be filmed, between Oct 23 and 26. Good God, it starts a week today. Awesome.

(2) I'll finish the first draft of the ASK feature script by Oct 27. It's been sitting at 81 pages since Saturday. Rather than finish it in dribs and drabs, I've decided to take this week away from it, then go back to it refreshed this weekend and have another big pass over it, then add the ending. Nice. While I'm pleased with my 81 pages in 14 days, incidentally, take a look at Phill Barron's blog for a far more impressive example of speed scriptosity.

(3) I've been invited to San Sebastian's Horror & Fantasy Film Festival, for the fourth year running. It's a wonderful, sensibly-sized event in a gorgeous seaside town, full of really cool little bars and nice restaurants. Very hard to resist. So I think San Sebastian may well act as my holiday for this year, between Oct 27 and Nov 4. Sure, I'll be there in a journalistic capacity, writing about it for Metal Hammer or something, but eight days of watching films while simultaneously drinking beer isn't the hardest work I'll ever do.

Right, then. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to lounge around, feeling knackered but unsure of exactly what to do with myself.

Good day to you.

Heat Magazine... New Short Script Opportunity...

In today's Heat magazine, I've written The Heat Interview. It's with the ludicrously lovely Holly Willoughby and Fearne Cotton. Awwww, look at 'em in this picture. Bit of glamour. Never does a blog any harm, I'm saying.

Ohhhh, and the glamourous Lucy has just posted about Namalay, a production company looking for short scripts. I may well send them my BSSC entry, You're All Going To Die. If they're very, very good.

Progress and TV Pin-Ups

The Red Planet Prize script is coming along well. For a start, I realised that I'd fallen into the 'voiceover' trap with the initial draft. Have gone through the script like a tornado today, ripping out that gratuitous voiceover action. It's really not that difficult, provided you don't simply replace it with your protagonist talking to themselves. My feature-length romcom screenplay, which I'm still working on simultaneously, has a fair deal of voiceover, which I don't see as a problem. I will, however, keep it to a minimum.

Was there a Scribosocial on Saturday, then? If it all crumbled away to nothingness, I shall be cyber-slapping the legs of all concerned. I say we pick a date for August and stick to it like some breed of superglue.

When people ask who I fancy on TV I generally come up blank, for some reason. Most female TV presenters and personalities (even most movie stars, in fact) look the same, and are generally the wrong side of bland-glam. This has changed since Friday, when I interviewed Holly Willoughby and Fearne Cotton for heat magazine. Together, in person. Christ, it's a tough old life. I was confident that Holly might cancel her imminent wedding plans after meeting me, but no - the girl still seems set on matrimony. Guess it'd be too embarrassing to drop out now. Yes. That'll be it.

Tomato Catch-Up

As Lucy kindly pointed out, I haven't posted here for a week. It's been a combination of working like a madman and real-life type stuff, but here I am, back again. Typing and everything. So let's see: what's gone on?

Didn't make the Fever Pitch Top 10 shortlist. This is simultaneously a shame and a relief. Now, at least, I'll be able to enjoy the Cheltenham Screenwriters' Festival without worrying about preparing a live pitch. And I can still pitch the film idea to various folk over the course of the four days. By the way, the ever-unstoppable Lucy's running her own Fever Pitch comp, by way of consolation to those who didn't make it.

I've had a basic idea for the BBC's Royal Tapes radio play competition (despite knowing or caring little about the Royals) so might well write it up in time for the Friday midday deadline. It's only three minutes long max: how hard can it be? Hmmmmm.

Also this Friday, I'm hitting the BECTU Freelances' Fair, which should be an interesting affair. Few seminars, bit of mingling: where's the harm? There is no harm to be seen...

I've got a feature in tomorrow's new Doctor Who Magazine, so will blog about that tomorrow. Oh, and my interview with Any Dream Will Do winner Lee Mead is in this week's issue of Heat.

Are any other non-smokers feeling the urge to light up in pubs, just for the sheer fuck of it? I've done it twice in the last week. A pointless exercise, I'll grant you, but I like the idea of smoking in pubs - just not the reality, in terms of health or getting engulfed in other people's brown mist. Ugh. That didn't sound good. Still, as I've been saying to people since cities started falling around the world, I can't see why some pubs can't be smoking and others non-smoking...

Wondering where the 'Tomato' came from in 'Tomato Catch-Up'? I had one in a salad for lunch. There. It's a seamless play on words, and no mistake.

Amazing Technicolor Dream-Quotes

This week, I was filmed by a BBC1 documentary crew, while interviewing Lee Mead, winner of the channel's Any Dream Will Do 'reali-talent' contest, for heat magazine. I hadn't been previously aware that the crew would be present, and filming the lion's share of my chat with Lee, so it put me on the back-foot a tad. The problem with situations like this, is that interviewees become aware of a boom-mike hovering unsubtly above their head and think they're being interviewed for a TV show (please do not swear) rather than a magazine (please do swear and be a little more forthcoming than you might be on the box).

All things considered, it turned out well. I was extremely glad that I had a nice shirt on - and especially that I'd had a haircut the day before. Wasn't happy about being caught with spectacles on, mind. So if you've been losing sleep over what I might look like with four eyes, your misery will be alleviated come Christmas and the Winner's Story special...

Illness = Focus... Short Script Second Draft... Hustle...

Am I the only one who can see the positive side of getting a cold? I rather like the way it forces you to slow down a little. Apart from that, of course, it's utterly annoying.

At the end of last week, I got a chance to look over a print-out of the first draft of my Doomsayer short story script, while on a train from London to Brighton (gotta grab those free moments when you can - even if it means refusing to accept one of those free London newspapers which are thrust in your direction every five minutes in the capital these days). I still like it, thankfully, but after daubing those pages with red corrective pen, I started having plenty of ideas for how to make it better and give it more depth. I'll be making the corrections and improvements later today, all being well, while high on a potentially lethal cocktail of Lemsip and Benylin.

Just reviewed Hustle episode five for heat magazine. I'm a very late convert to this show, but it's a wonderful thing from the scripts to the performances to the glitzy way in which it's shot. It also has a consistently bright-and-breezy, nothing-too-dangerous-is-going-to-happen tone, which is challenged by the goings-on in episode five. I won't be spoilering it for anyone, but let's just say that the viewer's expectations of formula (the crew con someone and get away with it at the last minute) are subverted. It's an especially great script this week. Written by Nick Fisher, its opening minutes demonstrate a really imaginative way to set up a story and make use of having five main characters. Check it out when it's broadcast on BBC1 on May 31.

Mad Morning... Crazy Notepad Action...

Today was intended to be all about my own scriptwork. But no. By 8.30am, I'd received TWO emergency calls from magazines. One needed me to interview Malcolm McDowell this morning. The other, Heat mag, needed me to come in and temp on the TV desk.

As much I'd love to interview McDowell, Heat always comes first, so I had to regretfully turn the other fine title down. Anyway, here's the point: when you're self-employed, it's never 100% possible to set time aside for your own work. But lord knows, I'm trying...

Notebook update: there is now a green notebook in my jacket pocket, for capturing story ideas, dialogue and other assorted brainwaves. And if I DO need to use it for non-story scribbling, they go in the back. Eventually, of course, both sets of notes will meet in the middle. Then I'll buy another notebook.

Temping at heat... Mixmag feature... pitch book

This week, I shall mostly be temping on heat magazine's TV desk. I've done this before, and greatly enjoyed it. I'm generally allergic to office work - being chained to a desk when it's not in my house tends to induce cold sweat. But I'll happily make an exception for heat - it's an office with great people and a great atmosphere. Very laidback, for one thing - it never fails to impress me how people are remarkably unstressed, considering that they're creating a magazine stuffed full of celebrity gossip each week. Nice.

I have a feature in the current issue of Mixmag, on the popular beat combo Klaxons. Went to Cardiff a while back, to do a l'il on-the-road piece with them. Lovely fellows and very entertaining.

Good heavens. I'm very positive today. Must be Adrian Mead's influence.

Also wanted to recommend a really good book about pitching: Selling Your Story In 60 Seconds by Michael Hauge. I attended a pitchfest affair at the LA Screenwriting Expo in October, and this handy read really helped me prepare. It was a sell-your-screenplay-in-five-minutes-to-an-exec type deal, and by the end I was pretty addicted to the rush of it. Among Hauge's recommendations are convincing the pitchee that you have a personal connection to your script - even if you don't strictly have one. Interestingly, I found that doing it this way helped me realise one of the things the script was about, which I hadn't considered. I also practiced by videoing myself saying the pitch in my hotel room, using a digital camera. Didn't feel stupid at all, no sirree. Ahem.

In this particular case, the script's protagonist is a teenager who ends up fighting to save the world. So I started my pitch by saying that I was seeing someone with teenage kids, and it fascinated me how every little problem seemed like the end of the world to them. Everything's magnified. But what if it really WAS the end of the world, and they had to step up to the plate? This seemed to grab most execs' interest, so I'd say it's a fairly valid way of couching a pitch. I also found that if you departed before your allotted time slot was up, leaving them with a single-sheet synopsis or the actual screenplay if they'd requested it, the look of gratitude on their face was very obvious. They were being given a 60-second breather before the next pitcher lumbered along.

One of the pitchers at that event, was a woman with a guitar. I never got to hear her musical pitch, but I'll wager it was a doozy...