There’s almost a seven year age difference between me
and my older brother. That’s a pretty big gap; you’re never quite co-inhabiting
the same phase of childhood. We were never at the same school together - he was
a child of the seventies whereas my juvenile reference points are predominantly
from the eighties. Where I to sing the theme tune from The Mysterious Cities Of
Gold at him he’d probably just look at me blankly. He on the other hand is not
allowed to reference anything from his childhood as even the cartoons from the
seventies were found to be paedophiles.
But you need something to bond with your brother over and it
was comedy that we predominantly chose to form our sibling connection.
Every Sunday lunch throughout the eighties we’d wheel out
the table (it really did have wheels on) and sit down to eat something that he
enjoyed way more than I did - I’d often hide meat in a tissue and sneak it up
to the toilet for disposal. Unless it was one of those blessed occasions when
the head chef served up a Fray Bentos, whereupon I could swap the meat for
extra pastry, in a deal that I still consider to this day the greatest bargain
struck of my life.
And while this high class dining was under way we’d
invariably watch an episode or two of The Young Ones, taped on broadcast onto
Betamax tapes. Later in the decade I made a copy of one of his friend’s tape of
Filthy, Rich & Catflap and this was added to the menu of things to watch
while having dinner. And even though we only had 12/18 episodes to go through,
we still watched a couple of episodes every week for what felt like the whole
decade.
The first live comedy I saw was not one, but two viewings,
of World War 2 documentary Allo Allo, yet probably the pinnacle of my many
subsequent experiences of watching comedy was seeing Bottom Live, again with my
brother.
That time from pre-adulthood till we stop being teenagers is
an important time for us all, where every experience is heightened. We never
quite love bands as much as those we adored when we first turned into adults
and I feel lucky that this important time in my life was soundtracked by
Nirvana, just in the same way that I appreciate that my time at university
coincided almost perfectly with the Britpop years.
However much I loved music though, as I became an adult it
still didn’t match comedy for the impact it had on me. When friends were out
drinking I could be found – like a sadcase – watching comedy series such as Red
Dwarf, Whose Line Is It Anyway and Absolutely religiously, re-watching the same
episode 3-4 times.
Yet it was Bottom I loved the most; it was my sitcom. Running from when I was 16
and finishing when I was 21 it had such a massive impact on my life that I
still find myself quoting bits of it today. But it’s not just that…
Our favourite songs and films may make us happy, thoughtful
or excited, yet they don’t affect our personality. At least not in a permanent
way. My love of Nirvana as I became an adult left a predilection for stupid
hair but no other mental/physical scars. But The Young Ones, Filthy, Rich &
Catflap and especially Bottom have had a probably alarming effect on who I’ve
turned out to be. For instance, when hungover and tired I turn into Richie from
Bottom - an irritating mania overtakes me, all non-sequiturs, stupid songs and
screeching. It’s not much fun to be around.
I feel many of my friends have this imprint on them too –
we’ve generally bonded on a shared sense of humour. Hell, I’ve become friends
with people solely because we could quote Bottom at each other. You feel a
kinship, that you’re going to like this person because they like the same
things as you.
I was genuinely upset yesterday at the death of Rik Mayall.
I felt it was a shame that somebody had died who’d made me laugh more than
anyone else I’d never met. But I also felt like I’d lost somebody who’d had
more impact on my own personality than any schoolteacher, writer, musician, or
indeed anyone outside of probably my own parents. My sense of humour is at the
core of who I am and that was shaped by Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson more than
anyone. Inside me is a load of Bottom episodes trying to get out - Rik taught
me to be an irritating idiot.
The next time I laugh at something daft or stupidly smutty,
or make a nonsensical joke with friends I’ll think of Rik and thank him for the
joy he gave me throughout my life. And the next time I’m hungover and
screeching nonsense then Hannah can thank him for that too.
There’s more than one generation of people who’ll miss you
as much as I do Rik, and often for the same reasons. You helped create us
monsters, I hope you were proud of that fact. And also proud that you made Ben
Elton write the best thing he’s done for over 20 years: “He always made me cry
with laughter, now he’s just made me cry.”
Here’s the funniest thing two people have ever done:
