Questions of identity? For us, they are a laughing matter
Two comedians reflect on what being Jewish means to them, and decide it has everything to do with humour
JEWS ARE funny. Without meaning to, we say and do the most ridiculous things. Added to this we have great warmth. I believe my comedy has inherited this and comes from a warm place. I try to make it affable and inviting. When I’m on stage it’s like I’m standing at my front door saying: “Come in, take your coat off, have a cup of tea, and tell me who died this week”.
I love being Jewish and knowing that most Jews around the world are getting together every Friday night for a good meal and a row. There’s so much rich and vacuous information flying around and always the big topic is “who died?” and “are you going to the funeral?” and “take the A41 it’s quicker than the A402”. I swear I know the fastest route to every Jewish cemetery.
When I was eight years old my parents took me to see
Funny Girl, starring Barbra Streisand. This film had a huge impact on me. As well as the gut-wrenching singing, I saw how Babs was smothered by so much emotion from family and friends interfering in her life, coupled with her desire to do something out of the ordinary.
I also recognised the chutzpah oozing out of her. I think it oozes from most Jews, even the grumpy, cantankerous and fractious. In fact, the more curmudgeonly, the funnier they are. There’s humour in the lack of humour.
When I was a 17-year-old my friend’s grandmother referred to me as the “witchy-looking girl”. I was mortified, but I saw the truth and humour in her comment — I had uncontrollable, wild hair, which must be blow-dried by several people on scaffolding.
(This was before the invention of Frizz Ease by the eminent Jew, John Frieda — God bless you John).
One very cold wintery morning recently I was visiting my parents and their dear friend Stanley (aged 75) popped in.
Stanley has a wonderful hangdog face accompanied with a grouchy disposition. But behind that face is a kind, warm, humorous man. He sauntered into the kitchen from the hall and while removing his hat and scarf, came to a halt, looked around and proclaimed: “This weather… it’s dangerous!” Heartbreaking. True. Funny.
When I write sitcoms, often many of the char- acters are Jews. Their qualities, habits and idiosyncrasies all come from the Jews I have met who say the most ridiculous, crazy, heartfelt, stupid things that are so often true. They’re not so much three dimensional as 10 dimensional. While queuing to greet a widow sitting shivah, the woman in front of me threw herself at her and wailed: “What happened?” The widow replied: “He died!” Heartbreaking. True. Funny.
I have been surrounded by Jewish people all my life and their neuroses, morals, beliefs, sense of honour and, above all, sense of humour have shaped who I am and what I write — which, I like to think, is heartbreaking, true and funny.
‘JEWS ARE FUNNY, AND THE MORE CURMUDGEONLY THEY ARE, THE FUNNIER THEY ARE’