No sex please, his wife wouldn’t like it
Nik Rabinowitz tells Karen Rutter about his new show, inspired by Oscar Pistorius
NINE o’ clock on a Monday morning is not a high-energy time for me. But comedian Nik Rabinowitz and the amped-up crew behind the Seattle coffee counter have clearly been at the caffeine and are engaged in a lively multilingual exchange when I arrive for our interview. Time to switch gears, I reckon. Correctly so, because our conversation quickly turns into an early-morning laugh fest.
Rabinowitz is preparing for his latest one-person show at the Baxter during the holiday season. So what is it all about?
“Well, it’s inspired by Oscar Pistorius, which is why I’ve called it Stand Up,” says a straight-faced Rabinowitz. “But there’s a bit of everything in it — the Jewish Olympics, what happens when I take my kids to the park, what to do on the Sabbath, Helen and Jacob and Julius . . . y’know, all the good stuff from this insane reality show we call South Africa.”
Is there anything he considers taboo that he will not tackle in the show? “Well, I don’t talk about my sex life too much because, for some reason, my wife is really sensitive about that. But I’m really helpful about a lot of things. Like anti-wrinkle cream, for example. Did you know it’s made from babies’ foreskins? So I tell women this because if they don’t want to have a c*** in their face, they shouldn’t use it. Of course, it’s useful for gay guys to know this as well.”
Rabinowitz riffs with the ease of somebody who has been thinking on his comedic feet for many years. Billed as “the funniest Xhosa-speaking Jewish comedian in South Africa”, he has been working on his chops since the early 2000s, when the Cape Comedy Collective, headed by Mark Sampson and Sam Pearce, helped usher in a new era of stand-up entertainers. His ability to be fluent and funny in three languages gave him a dis- tinctive edge, and his curiosity about politics made him a natural comedic commentator. No surprise, then, that he never really used his business science and industrial psychology degree from the University of Cape Town in an official sense.
He has seen the rise — and rise — of the local comedy sector from its roots in dingy barrooms to its current incarnation in spaces such as the Grand West Arena. And he admits that, once one reaches a certain level (which he has), it is possible to make a comfortable living from being funny.
“Of course, being a popular South African comedian is a bit of a double-edged sword. When we have a comedy festival here, it’s interesting to see how often local comics, with local content, get a much more enthusiastic response than international guests. But when we tour overseas, we don’t have a huge audience for our material, except for the ex-pat circuit,” he says (although he has had successful tours of both the London and Edinburgh festivals.) He cites Trevor Noah as an example of somebody who has transcended this problem. “It is possible. You just have to be flexible.”
He has a been a regular member of the ZANews team, voicing puppet characters such as Desmond Tutu, and has a regular weekly radio slot on Talk Radio 702/567 CapeTalk called The Week That Wasn’t.
He is also generous in sharing his own space and time. In all his previous shows he has included new, up-and-coming talent as support acts. This time it is Kagiso Mokgadi, also known as KG, who “is on his way to becoming a comedy heavyweight”.
“Of course, it’s always a bit risky having a new face as an opening act. What if he turns out to be more popular than me? If the audience likes him more than me, that’s a problem. We have 35 shows to get through, so it will be very awkward.”
What does he think of the small proportion of women comedians on the circuit? “Look, it’s tough out there. And women, unfairly so, are not only being judged on the quality of their comedy, but also on what they’re wearing and how they look. On the positive side, there are comics like Tumi Morake, who is a superstar in her own right. She’s not a funny woman comedian, she’s a funny comedian. And I’ve just directed Angel Campey in a show in Joburg — I believe she’s going to be big.”
I should have ordered something a little more caffeine-loaded than rooibos tea for this interaction. But, in terms of getting my own private comedy show, I can’t complain. If only half the stuff he shared with me is in his Baxter slot, you can be sure of a fab evening out.