Gay Times Interview V
GRAHAM NORTON
NORTON YOUR NELLY!
MEGAN RADCLYFFE first clapped eyes on Graham Norton on late-night TV. Since when, he has spread like a very pleasant rash, appearing in Channel 4's priestly sitcom, Father Ted, and chairing a new comedy quiz show on Channel 5. But just who is GRAHAM NORTON?
TWELVE months ago, I reviewed a late-night Carlton show called Carnal Knowledge. One of the presenters was an Irish chap called Graham Norton. I described him as "a new gay comic god". I waxed that he "fair sparkled. His bitching had bite, not bitterness, his wit was pointed, his shirt was glorious, his timing masterly, and his whole being just sublime." Okay, so you may think that's a bit OTT, but he actually is quite divine. And how do I know? Because I met him one horribly humid day after I'd sweated up four flights of stairs, positively dizzy with nerves and high blood pressure. He arrived as fresh as a daisy with an unmoistened brow atop a frankly cherubic face, and a personality that was as warming as it was uninhibited.
Let's start at the very beginning. Graham Norton, who are you?
"Grew up in Ireland. It's true, Irish and gay. When am I going to get a Lottery grant? I did two years at University College, Cork then went off to America and lived in San Francisco for a year in a hippy commune called Star Dance," he said, rolling his eyes. "Then I came to London and applied for drama school 'cos I wanted to be an actor, got into Central, left there with all my Equity cards and agents but sadly no-one else was that interested in my career. So, never worked really at all as an actor and that's when I started writing my own things, and through that to the stand-up."
So, I challenge, it could be said you're a stand-up because you're a failed actor?
"It's funny," he says, totally unfazed. "I mean, technically yes, I'm a failed actor but I'm very happy doing what I'm doing."
Could have been worse. He might have been a waiter.
"Do you know, I've done that too. Years, ooh years, of carrying those hot plates around But comedy came quite easily to me, that's what I would do, so when I went to be an actor the idea was to explore my deeper, hidden, serious side that had been untapped till now. And of
course, I was crap at it It seemed natural that I went down the funny route rather than the angst-ridden route."Fortified by the rapport we've seemingly developed, I suggest he's doing comedy because he can't write either. "Yeah, that'll be that then," he chuckles. "Failed at everything! Can't write, can't act, and as for singing and dancing!" You just can't upset the guy. He doesn't seem to get needled. Hecklers don't bother him; the thought of even getting them surprises him.
"I don't think I ever have. Got death threats," he says, in a matter of fact way. "But that's different isn't it?"
Death threats? "Yeah, in Leicester. It was a gay audience, a queer Valentine's night, and Combat 18 [a Nazi group] phoned in, wrote in death threats, had the codes and everything and during the show there was a bomb scare. And after everyone came back in, a fire alarm went off. It was scary. It was an odd night that night, but I'm alive," he finishes with a shrug. "I'm not political at all, but if it touches my life in that way I won't have people telling me what I can see and what I can do. But I haven't held a placard for many a long year now or gone to meetings. Quite lazy, quite lazy. I vote, though."
Graham recently performed in Kilkenny, where he lived for a time. "It was weird," he weird," he says. "I've never really done gigs in Ireland so this was my first time, and it was very weird going back to my home town." So how does a laid-back, pseudo-political faggot. It was an got avoid getting pelted with stones when performing in Ireland?
"Let's put it this way It's always going to be gay 'cos It's me, but there were places I thought I wouldn't bring that audience," he chortles. "I didn't think they'd like to go there. There were places I thought I wouldn't bring that audience," he chortles. "I didn't think they'd like to go there. There was some stuff I was talking about, you know all those bishops and priests started shagging their housekeepers? And suddenly They've been doing it for years - everyone knew, and I did some material and they didn't like it. They thought no, we don't want to go for that. Fine about pretending to want to shag a boy in the front row up the arse, but don't slag off the priests."
Next stop is the Edinburgh Festival where he'll be performing "a straight-forward stand-up show - as far as I know. I haven't written it yet." For Norton, this is something of a return to his roots as a comedian. When he left Central and began writing, he "just wrote full-length shows, hour length shows, and took them to Edinburgh, all the festivals (Brighton, Bath, Bristol) and because of that, by the time someone talked me into going into the stand-up circuit, I knew a lot of people in the comedy world, so I had to do a couple of ten-minute spots but no actual hideous try-outs. If I had to do try-outs I would not be a stand-up now. The whole thing is hideous. Hideous, hideous, hideous. So my top advice to anyone wanting to be a stand-up is: write full length shows and go to Edinburgh."
Being a comedian who is gay is "a danger, yes. But being gay on the circuit is a hook and I can't deny it, it's been useful for me" Well, I offered, it gets you in the back door. "Way-hey! Ooh you! Innuendo police, they'll storm the building!"
Comedy is pretty big on TV at the moment. Every channel, terrestrial and satellite, has at least one comedian who has leapt across the footlights to chair a comedy quiz or present their own show. "On TV, bald, at-a-microphone stand-up often isn't the most riveting watch in the world. It just isn't, is it?" No, but it doesn't stop the TV companies showcasing stand-up comics, and I simply wonder whether there's a danger of killing the comedy club circuit?
"That's certainly what's happened in America," Graham replies. "In America, the club scene has died because of TV, and now comedy clubs there are all about drinking. They're all free to get into and it's 2-drink minimum because they can see all the comedy they want on the Comedy Channel or HBO specials, so I guess that could happen here." Ah, but you've already got your paw in the door with TV. "Yes, so bugger it. Ooh, all the clubs are dead, what a pity!"
Graham has just finished chairing a series of Channel 5's flagship improvisation show, Bring Me The Head Of Light Entertainment - a lads' show with (almost) all-male panelists who do jokes about car with (almost) all-male panelists who do jokes about cars and bollocks. They get asked (by Graham) questions like "name five things you need to be an air stewardess" or "five things not to say to a plumber". In terms of other channels, it disappears up its own arse, but by the standards of C5's ratings, it's huge.
"I think the criticism has been 'it's way too laddie'. I mean, Rhona [Cameron] was the only woman on it, and God forbid a black person would have been on it. No, no no You just think, actually guys, there are women out there, there are black comics out there who are very funny and good, and don't use them in a tokenistic way - just cheer it up, have some variety."
He's just so nice and I'm a bastard TV reviewer. Gotta trip him up somehow. Got it! Five things you need to be Graham Norton?
Graham umms and aahs. "Oh God Oh!" he says as the light dawns. "Of course! It's a witty reference to my television show! I didn't even notice!" he laughs. "Da-di-der-di-dah. Five things you need... well you need a hairy back. Actually, I have spots on it now. I'm appalled! I went through life unscathed by spots, and now my back's just pustule city!" Turns out he's had a back wax. I mention a old work colleague had the same problem with her upper lip. Bet they didn't tell you that before they stripped you though. "No, no, she didn't mention that at all. Eurgh! In fairness, even if she had, I would let her do it fantastic feeling and I didn't pay for it. Vanity will out, if they're offering you a free wax.
"So, hairy back. Erm what else do you need? Oh God A cupboard full of tuna. I should throw this back at you - what do you think I need? God knows! That's only two isn't it? That's rubbish! This is why I'm chairman on that show, not one of the panelists," he laughs. "Er... what else? Aw, I'm tempted to say my boyfriend Scott, 'cos that would be a lovely romantic thing to say. Yeah, what the hell... he's there, he's alive. Er... a wheelchair..."
Hello?
"It's just I have a wheelchair. When I was a child I was obsessed with having a wheelchair because of Shirley Temple films and things. I remember when I was having my appendix out, I'd thought I'll wake up paralysed from the waist down and I'll sit in a wheelchair and I'll be so brave and in that kind of Margaret Ryan, Shirley Temple way where you sit in a wheelchair and smile benignly and pet little deers, and it'd be marvellous. I can't explain this, obviously a deep need for affection and love.
"When I got old enough I went out and bought one in a junk shop. There was a shop in the Bethnal Green Road that had hundreds of wheelchairs and I thought it would be such a good dining room thing to have a big table with eight wheelchairs all round it and everyone could sit in them. But no, just the one for me. But mine, it's good I do all my writing in it. It must be good for your back, it must be a well-designed chair because people who really need the spend their whole life in them.
"Is that four? One more. Oh! A signed Heidi Fleisch T-shirt. You know Heidi Fleisch? One of them. She's in jail now I think, poor thing."
And, continuing the theme, five things not to say to Graham Norton?
"'What large breasts!' Erm... 'You're not very funny, are you?' That would be..." he flaps his lips like a horse. "I mean, what do you do? The terrible thing is... if a gig isn't going well, you're dying on your arse doing these jokes and no-one's laughing at them, you immediately think, 'Ah! you're so right!' Whereas if people are laughing, you kind of go, 'Ha! Yeah, this is very, very funny isn't it?' You're in a very vulnerable situation, you are completely swayed by the crowd... well at least I am. There are probably comics out there who believe deeply in the material, I mean some must believe in their material 'cos you see them week after week, not getting a titter and they still come back, and not only do they come back, but with the same material!"
He pauses for thought then comes up with number three.
"'There's no more.' That's very upsetting 'cos I'm a pig, obviously. Or instead of that, 'The fridge is empty.' That's a very bad thing to hear as well. Don't like shopping for food. I just like food to be there, I love to eat it and the quicker the better. Sainsbury's do... have you seen those fabulous tubs of rice? And you kind of think this is the ultimate lazy cooking 'cos rice isn't that hard to make, but for some reason, it's worth paying more."
So where were we?
"Oh yes. I've got three, I have got three? Or maybe four? 'Your mother's out front.' That could put me off. I only need one more now, don't I? Er... 'Your dog is dead.' That would be another bad one." Ah, so you have a dog? "No, but if I did it would be very upsetting to hear it was dead. I do like dogs, I would love a dog."
Why haven't you got one then?
"Who's going to look after it?" he asks. "See, I know myself well enough that really I just want the dog and want it to be happy but"
Not feed it, or go for walks? "No, no, unless I want to go for a walk, you know. It could take me for walks, if I started sniffing around the door with a leash in my mouth then the dog could come with me. But if the dog was doing that and I was doing something else that would ooh, drive me to distraction. The feeding thing, I probably could do that 'cos I go to the kitchen so often myself that if I'm opening one can, why not open another one?" As long as the dog likes tuna, I suppose.
It's impossible not to like the man. Comedians are notoriously the hardest people to raise a giggle from but Graham Norton is different. "I do tend to laugh a lot," he agrees. "I think I'm quite a good audience, probably too good. It sounds sycophantic but I suppose as a performer I'm willing them to do well, I do laugh. I do quite like nonsense. I like some physical stuff. We were talking last night about Mrs Doyle from Father Ted and that really funny thing she does, falling off the window sill, have you seen it? That makes me laugh so-o much, watching her just fall off."
Norton has been lucky enough to see this particular pratfall at first hand when he landed, if the innuendo police will allow, a small part in this comedy series. "Yeah, yeah, it was a couple of episodes. I was the Riverdance priest, so hopefully I'll be in the next series. The writers say I will."
Which can only increase his public recognition factor. Has his life changed since fame tapped on his door?
"When I am recognised it's always been a nice thing, and genuinely that's a lovely thing to happen and often, they don't come up and say, 'I've seen you on TV', it's just 'Cheers!' or 'Hi!', like they know me and they walk away. My boyfriend finds it wildly annoying and I don't blame him, for him it must be very annoying. For me, It's fabulous! But thus far, it hasn't affected my life. I don't drive a car so I still take the bus and the tube. Occasionally someone will spot you and then you do think, ooh, trapped in a bus now, bit scary!"
Graham's life isn't just a matter of public record on stage either. He still manages to bang out a column for the Pink Paper every week. "They asked me to do it, and I'm Mister Yes. It's also," he pauses, "a real chore to have to do it but It's really good discipline. I'm very bad at preparing for it, I can't remember what's happened to me, and I forget the day It's supposed to be in, so they phone up and go, 'Where is it?' and I'm like, 'Oh, oh, just pressing 'Print' now!'"
What does he write about? "Mostly I'm shouting, 'What's happened? Has anything changed in our lives?' and normally it hasn't. You know, 'cos talking about going to gigs is very boring for people who don't go to gigs, or a funny things happened... so it's just trying to find stuff to talk about. Sometimes I will have something that I'll think, oh let's give this idea an airing, but it's quite daunting really 'cos once it's down there, that's what you think forever."
Ah yes, like his apparent hatred of the lesbian nation. When Graham wrote a piece criticising the slovenly habits of his former lesbian housemates, some took it as a slight on the washing-up skills of lesbians everywhere.
"Oh that was a huge palaver! Oh I can't tell you the dramas that caused! And it was one of those things, you know what I mean? You just kind of think, oh God, horrible dah-de-dah, and so I wrote this, and it turned into I was quite vitriolic about those people and it was very cowardly of me to do it and if I had my life to live again, I wouldn't do it again, I wouldn't do i very cowardly of me to do it and if I had my lifit." He impersonates the horse again. "Because I'd talked about these lesbians I was sharing with, it was as if I was attacking every lesbian on God's earth and it was like, no, no, a lesbian could have written this column if she'd shared with them. It became a kind of five-minute drama and that's when you think, 'Oh piss!'"
It was "Oh piss!" indeed, as our time was up and Graham had to change for the photo-shoot. As for me, I remained confident that my initial appraisal of the man stands. A comic god and an absolute darling.
©Megan Radclyffe 1997 Publ. Millivres August 1997