Soft-pedalling but unstymied, ‘cancelled’ comedian steps out
Dave Chappelle
Hammersmith Apollo, London W6
★★★★★
A‘I got so famous, and I can’t say anything – what’s the point of being famous?’
ttending the first of eight London shows by US comic Dave Chappelle, some rescheduled from August, was like going through airport security crossed with visiting hour at prison. Any phones had to be sealed in a pouch upon entry and there was an additional admonition that anyone seen using one would be swiftly ejected. Oh, and there was to be no heckling! (Penalty unspecified.)
That last neurotic protocol flies in the face of what the man of the moment is supposedly fighting for: freedom of speech. Right now they don’t come much more notorious than Chappelle. The outspoken African-american stand-up, 48, is both riding high after a series of Netflix specials that have earned him $120million, and seemingly riding for a fall after eliciting a backlash for his most recent sets.
Sticks and Stones (2019) won three Emmys but incurred wrath for its gags in defence of comedian Louis CK – accused of sexual misconduct – and about the LGBTQ community – “the alphabet people”.
The Closer, released last week, has caused more upset still, with its apparently risqué observations that someone can be both LGBTQ and racist and its remarks sympathetic to JK Rowling – he called himself “Team TERF” (referring to the pejorative term “trans-exclusionary radical feminists”).
Taking an age to come on, after two support acts, and a noisy DJ set designed to pump up excitement, Chappelle’s contribution ran to a restrained if engaging 50 minutes or so. At least he plunged straight in. “I love my country but clearly I need a break, I’ve been cancelled in America,” he purred, then mischievously rooted about for some cigarettes. “Do they call these fags, or did they get you too?”
Even though the crowd was on-side, he offered a qualified olive branch: “Anyone here from the LGBTQ [community] doesn’t need to worry about a thing, I still love you and I don’t blame the media shenanigans on your community at all.” “I can’t believe I’m in trouble for the jokes I’m in trouble for,” he quipped. “I thought they’d be madder about ‘space Jews’” – anyone who has seen the new special, with its outlandish riff about aliens leaving then reclaiming Earth as a home, will understand his disbelief. Pre-empting the idea of being cancelled, he jibed: “That wasn’t just a special, it was a letter of resignation... I got so famous, and I can’t say anything, what the hell’s the point of being famous?”
That will strike a chord with many, but he must know that his wealth and his fame protects him, as it does the likes of Ricky Gervais or Billy Connolly, who has voiced his concern that these days he would be silenced by the woke mob. For a chap who can’t say anything, Chappelle doesn’t seem that stymied: he offers some outré thoughts on what it takes to keep a marriage going (“cheating” is one tip), and also makes a light-hearted allusion to a serial male rapist.
“I’ve been treated kindly by all kinds of people,” he offers at the end, reflecting on his sojourn in London and reaching for a live-and-let-live message. Neither this nor what precedes it is marked by the kind of unvarnished originality that warrants his often being acclaimed as a genius or put on the same pedestal at his idols Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy. Yet perhaps such soft-pedalling is what the fretful occasion demanded. It felt like a marker point not a decisive moment; a panting catch-up amid the culture wars, not a battle won.
At the Apollo until Oct 21. Tickets: viagogo.co.uk