In our serious world, why shouldn’t we embrace the silly?

With the world steadily trundling down to Hell in a hand cart, surely it’s a rare delight to spend time in the company of fools. I delight in the playful, the foolish, and absurd. And love nothing more than messing about for a living. So much so that for over thirty years I’ve been acting in and directing curious theatre all over the world — and teaching Clown, Improvisation, Mime and Movement at Rada.

So many actors, politicians, and business folk want to be taken seriously. I suggest they let go of the word “Serious” and replace it with the word “Sincere.” That way they can develop the comedic as well as the serious aspects of their work and play. The results are often that much more fruitful and profitable for all concerned.

The importance of Clown, good humour, lightness — and the wonderful delight and necessity of failure are often, sadly, overlooked in an actor’s training. And in most other walks of life too. When did we all become so serious? I woke up to the concept of Clown and Fool’s Licence when I was thirty, having lost faith in a fickle and reductive industry — and, coincidentally, most of my hair — nothing was left for me then but to laugh!

When I talk about clowns I’m not talking about corporate jesters and political Joeys here with red noses and a bladder on a stick, tripping over their colourful outsized Ronald McDonald footwear for laffs, nor those witless saddos in off-the-peg Joke Shop clown suits, out to spook and terrorise their grey, forgotten, suburban backwater neighbourhood with a sly grin and a Stanley knife! They’re not clowns, they’re clearly lonely men and boys with low self-esteem issues and little else to do.

No, I’m talking about those pioneering, grounded, philosophical fools with nothing to sell, nothing to prove, and no one to shock or get at. I’m talking about the real Fool in a rich tradition of Fools, trading in a higher level of lunacy. Part shaman, part showman — from Grimaldi, to Chaplin, to Roddy Maude-Roxby.

Those simply hell-bent on finding fun and real delight of the daily, domestic, and ordinary vicissitudes of everyday life. Those loons who hold a mirthful and merciless mirror up to society, who allow us to laugh at ourselves by revealing the true source of succour — the real-life humour in the human condition.

So, being in a rehearsal room with actors Dan Renton Skinner and Alex Lowe — better known by their onscreen personas, respectively, Angelos Epithimiou and Barry from Watford is, in its self, an entertaining and delightful experience. They care about comedy and timing and the definition of comic ‹business just as a carpenter cares about wood and tools, or a painter their paints and brushes.

We started with a title, The New Power Generation. And after a scattering of eight days rehearsal, much tomfoolery, numerous cups of tea and Chinese Hob Nobs, we had ourselves a show. It›s currently touring a variety of venues in the UK till Christmas. It may come into the West End next year. It may end up on the telly. Or it may just remain what it is— a delightful piece of carefree lunacy to touch the heart and pass the time between now and death, or rent day. My next Clown project is leading a series of workshops for Syrian and African refugees and local people, in the small town of Witten, in North-West Germany. The idea is to help develop and integrate the community through Low Level Lunacy, Intermediate Idiocy, and advanced Messing About, culminating in a community showing on the evening of the final day. Few speak English. Unt mien Deutsch ist nich zo bellisimo. But we’ll see how we go!

As philosopher Alan Watts put it, ‘I want to let go of anxiety and turn it into laughter’.

Life should be laugh, a fun thing, a curious caper, don’t you think? Perhaps the downhill trip to Oblivion can be put off after all — for a little while at least. I’ll let you know. THE INDEPENDENT

So, being in a rehearsal room with actors Dan Renton Skinner and Alex Lowe — better known by their onscreen personas, respectively, Angelos Epithimiou and Barry from Watford is, in its self, an entertaining and delightful experience.