A sweet role
An extra Bake Off treat for Chris Parker
‘‘C utting into a cake portrait of your own face is the stuff horror movies are made of.’’
Can you imagine? Thrusting a knife directly into your forehead, dragging it down across your check, and then having to eat your nose. Your nose!
The whole thing sounds dramatic and completely over the top. But then, so is Chris Parker.
Yes, Chris Parker: entertainer, improviser, actor, writer, comedian, dancer, soon-to-be singer, and evensooner-to-be reality TV host.
If you don’t know his name, fine. But it’s been almost impossible to miss his face. The real one, not the one constructed out of sponge.
‘‘I just like to work. I really like doing stuff, I like working with people, so if there’s a good group of people, I get jealous if I don’t get to work on something. And I say yes to things.’’
What he has said yes to in recent years includes (deep breath, now) a TVNZ OnDemand series exploring queer New Zealand, being a frequent face on Three’s various ensemble comedy series, an award-winning stand-up comedy show, a couple of stand-up comedy shows that didn’t win awards (but easily could have), more than 150 performances around New Zealand playing TV cooking show host David Halls and, now, playing himself as the host of behind-the-scenes TV cooking show
An Extra Slice, the side dish for The Great Kiwi Bake Off.
When I meet him, he’s rushed home to the flat he shares with a handful of other professionally funny Aucklanders (and his artist boyfriend) during the lunch break at his gig as a writer (and occasional comedian) on Jono and Ben to decorate a cheap supermarket cake (because, Bake Off), talk about himself as quickly as possible and just generally be a good sport.
He does draw the line at rubbing said cake on his face for our photographer.
Apparently frosting and sprinkles are not part of his recommended skincare regime.
Regardless, he works – and talks – at breakneck speeds.
‘‘I think it’s a reflection of this industry. You have to be able to sprint and run and be doing as many things as you can to stay afloat, maybe.
‘‘I’ve always been like this, since I was a kid – I did ballet, drama, clarinet. After school, mum was like, ‘get him out of the house, get him channelling that performance energy’.’’
That plan of attack would come to a head at the end of every year though, when all the ballet and drama and clarinet recitals would end up causing a scheduling nightmare for the Parker family in suburban Christchurch.
‘‘Every year there’d be this moment when mum would say, ‘Chris, can you come to the kitchen. We have a clash’ and we’d both burst into tears. We’d get out our diaries and work it all out, negotiate where we needed to be.
‘‘I was saying to mum the other day that it is exactly the same now – but she’s doesn’t do it for me any more, I have to do it myself. It’s a good life lesson. Still overcommitted, but still happy.’’
Parker is tall and charming, and he moves around his kitchen – you’re bang on if you’re picturing a typical shared kitchen complete with dodgy rubbish bin, a dishwasher waiting to be emptied, and a bowl of cat biscuits on the floor – with the flick of his very flickable limbs.
It turns out his talent for cake decorating might be a bit unrefined (he has a definite ‘‘more is more’’ approach), but he loves the idea of getting his hands dirty.
‘‘I’m obsessed with baking videos. I watch them to relax,’’ he says, before we start comparing a lengthy list of personal favourites and swapping gossip about the love lives of certain hosts.
His relaxation playlist also includes watching wig-work videos, clips of people eating ice sculptures, ‘‘a little bit of ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response), a bit of slime – I find that tactile stuff very calming’’.
In An Extra Slice, he sneaks around the set of The Great Kiwi Bake Off filming bits we won’t see on the baking show.
He also has the unenviable task of being the first person to really talk to the baker who has just been booted off the nicest show on TV each week, all the while, eating cake. And sometimes, yes, the cake looks a bit like him.
He describes the whole thing as being like his ‘‘web series dreams have come true’’.
‘‘Bake Off felt like such a good fit [for me]. Weirdly, cooking and campness and Kiwi-isms all sort of fit together.
‘‘It’s not competitive – it’s such a whole-hearted show. [The competitors] take away a cake stand, you know? They just love baking.’’
As high-energy as he seems welding a tube of icing, Parker comes alive in front of an audience. His love for performing came early, and was hammered home after his time at Toi Whakaari (drama school) in Wellington.
‘‘I was quite a dramatic child – as many young gay boys are,’’ he says, flashing a cracking smile.
‘‘Living with a young gay boy is like having a 1940s damsel in the house. Very dramatic in that sense, but people would just laugh at me. And when I’m in front of a crowd it’s like my crack.
‘‘I guess I really like telling stories.
I don’t know why people laugh at me – but I’m glad they do.’’
And they really do like to laugh at him.
This year, he took home the New Zealand International Comedy Festival’s Fred Award for his show,
Camp Binch (self-described as ‘‘all blokes, brews and banter (Gays, Fanta and deeply personal yet hilarious anecdotes about trying to fit into New Zealand’s narrow idea of ‘masculinity’). It’s Kiwi-as, bro!’’). He was crowned best newcomer at the festival in 2015.
He co-hosts the The Male Gayz podcast alongside Eli Matthewson too, and it was recently adapted into a web series for TVNZ OnDemand. The telly show is bold and funny and interesting. And it came from Parker just wanting to be busy, pay the bills – and set a bit of an example. ‘‘And we are so, so proud of it,’’ he says.
The show covers everything from religion and the LGBTQI+ community, queer representation in pop culture, the history of New Zealand gay bars, and more.
Feedback has been largely positive, but not unanimously so. And it’s that kickback that makes Parker want to keep pushing.
‘‘Some people say, ‘Oh we are tired of that conversation. Yes, gay men, you’ve got your marriage. What more do you want?’ But you don’t actually know what it’s like to be inside that experience, you don’t know how it feels. You hear these tiny little micro aggressions all the time, and it isn’t all hunky dory – and that makes us inspired to keep making content.
‘‘It’s like Troye Sivan as a pop musician. It’s not like the songs are about the struggles of coming out. They are fun pop bangers, but the genders – in terms of ‘I love you, this male’ – they are correct for me, so they make sense. It’s like reading something in your own language.
‘‘Straight people get so much comedy to laugh at – so we should just focus on a little bit of stuff that’s at our expense.’’
For Parker, though, the key really is about positive role-modelling. And the work continues away from TV screens and streaming services.
He was recently back in his hometown of Christchurch talking to headmasters of all-boys’ schools about providing safe spaces for students who don’t fit the traditional model of masculinity.
‘‘I’m trying to open up those conversations, which feels exciting and fun. It’s about being the role model that wasn’t there for you. So I want to get out there and keep showing a different kind of man so hopefully it’s easier for other kids who think, ‘Oh my God, I’m not that tough’, or whatever.
‘‘So they feel comfortable and they have a place to stand in their own femininity or softness or gentleness or sensitivity – these are words guys really try to avoid and I just want to embrace them.
‘‘I intentionally try to cry in front of all these headmasters – I want them to see me weep a little bit, but not in a way like, ‘oh, he needs help!’
‘‘We say, men need to cry more, but it’s like, yeah, but who’s doing it? Who’s going to cry in front of them? I’m happy to, because I’m quite emotional and if I can do that then it feels good.’’
Even now, Parker says that when he’s on set or in front of a camera, he still feels like he’s beating the system simply by being himself.
‘‘[Growing up with no role models like me] it felt like ‘hide all the good things about yourself, put them away, let no one see them’. So I do laugh when I’m on set and I’m trying to be myself more, and I can’t believe I’m getting away with this now – how fun!
‘‘Like on An Extra Slice, they said ‘come in and just be you’ – great! I will! But you will often hear in auditions, ‘yeah great. Could you, uh, butch it up a bit?’ And you’re like, what does that mean? I was just trying to deliver the truth of the circumstance – I wasn’t really considering how my body or voice was sounding to you.’’
Think about the outcry earlier this year, he says, about rumours English actor Andrew Garfield was fired for wanting to play Spiderman as bisexual.
‘‘It’s all bulls... anyway. [Spiderman] shoots a web – where does that come from? How is his sexuality more problematic than that? More gay superheroes, that’s the end goal, that’s the dream. To be New Zealand’s first gay superhero.
‘‘Maybe I’ll be New Zealand’s first gay All Black as well.’’
If that doesn’t work out, Parker is still a busy guy, lining things up just like when he was a kid juggling ballet, drama and clarinet.
Most of the stuff in the pipeline is new – taking his stand-up show to Melbourne and to Edinburgh for the first time, making a movie with his frequent writing partner Tom Sainsbury, he’s starring in Shortland
Street: The Musical too – as well as some ‘‘stills’’ (still writing at Three, still appearing on TV, maybe making another series of The Male Gayz).
Then there’s the other stuff. The day-to-day stuff. The stuff that doesn’t involve eating his own head or trying to figure out what other people want him to be.
‘‘Challenge, grow and foster – as well as maintaining a fruitful personal life,’’ he says.
‘‘You know, I’d love to maintain my relationship with my boyfriend, I’d love to make sure I’m buying groceries, and that I’m clearing the dishwasher, occasionally.’’
❚ The Great Kiwi Bake Off screens on TVNZ 2 on Tuesday at 7.30pm. An Extra Slice is available on TVNZ OnDemand on the same day.
‘‘You have to be able to sprint and run and be doing as many things as you can to stay afloat, maybe. I’ve always been like this, since I was a kid ... after school, mum was like, ‘get him out of the house, get him channelling that performance energy’.’’
Chris Parker