Chris Brooker says comics can learn from keeping it PG

rnA challenge for you... How do you offend a comedian? What can you say to your typical stand-up comic that 's almost guaranteed to have them flinch as if they're expecting a stiff right hook? It's certainly not easy in this day and age.

If you fancy a game of Commonly Held Taboo Bingo then take yourself along to any open-mic night and settle in for an evening of fun. Rape, incest, Aids, cancer, the disabled, child abuse, domestic violence and a litany of sexual practices that will probably necessitate the hire of a carpet shampooer afterwards. Often, in fairness, the topic merely serves as a background to a superbly crafted piece of comedic art. Frequently though, the bullet in the back of the sacred cow's head is a substitute for anything clever, insightful or, heaven forbid, funny.

In the dark places where comedians gather, the line of good taste is all but gone. Away from the prying eyes and rigid morality of the outside world, the mirth peddler is free to plumb his or her utmost depths for the amusement of their peers. I've been reduced to tear-streaked fits of laughter on many occasion by the sort of conversation you can only have with people you know really, really, really well or in a car with four comics you've known for twenty minutes.

With all of this in mind, you'd be forgiven for thinking that trying to shock a comic is a bit like trying to drown a fish. There is, however, one place left to go. A destination so shocking that even the merest suggestion of a trip there will be greeted with hoots of derision. A destination so terrifying that many of the greatest exponents of the art of comedy won't even consider it.

You can go clean.

That's right, arguably the greatest taboo amongst the comedic community is the idea of a clean night of comedy. No sex, no drugs and only a limited amount of rock and roll. No swearing, no effing, no blinding and no option to resort to any one of a number of comedy short cuts out of a dead end. A palpable chill runs through the body of a comic when he realises that he can't break the tension of a poorly received gag by inferring that he might get his penis out, let alone actually expose the member in question.

In all honesty, I can understand why comedians might feel that clean nights of comedy go against the principle of the art form. Live stand-up comedy, particularly on the alternative circuit (Whatever that may be these days...) has always prided itself on being one of the last true bastions of the gung-ho, anything goes attitude that has been increasingly neutered in other fields. Ever since Lenny Bruce was slung in the back of a wagon for uttering the C word, comics have railed against censorship in all its forms. Can you blame them for being sniffy about any nights that, superficially at least, are all about censorship?

It's not just comics that are wary of clean comedy nights though. There seems to be a consensus among many that comedy without the effs and jeffs is somehow inherently inferior. It's implied that clean comedy is little more than more traditional fare with the good parts removed. Like cookies without chocolate chips, still palatable at a push but destined to be a disappointment. Like a trip to Alton Towers where you avoid anything that goes up high, fast or upside down. It's safe, it's sanitary, it's superfluous.

I found this out during my time as a member of ComedySportz, an improv troupe based in Manchester that prides itself on delivering an entirely family-friendly show. During the pre-amble I made sure that everybody knew that the subsequent two hours would be bereft of post-watershed content. In a room of a hundred people I'd generally see around fifteen faces fall, suddenly wondering exactly what they had let themselves in for.

Being part of a clean comedy show did an awful lot to dispel my own personal prejudices against that particular market niche. In particular I realised that, once you'd gotten used to them, the restrictions in terms of content actually provided an odd freedom of sorts. All of a sudden the bypass was shut and we found ourselves having to take the scenic route. As soon as the path of least resistance was removed we began to find comedy in all sorts of places that we most likely wouldn't have ventured. Besides, there's only so many times someone can hilariously shout ‘dildo!’ as an improv suggestion before the law of diminishing returns applies.

Don't get me wrong, I've not abandoned the dark side. My sense of humour is as robust as ever and my club set will provide irrefutable evidence of my love for the crude, juvenile and tasteless. I just think that it's time people stopped automatically turning their noses up at something a little different. It's a big circuit, there's room for everything and everyone to have a night somewhere. Tim Vine, one of the circuit's biggest stars, sells out all over the country without offence. Even the mighty Brendan Burns has turned his hand to the Comedy 4 Kids show at The Edinburgh Festival. If Burnsy, the man behind So I Suppose THIS Is Offensive Now?, can challenge himself, then maybe a few more should follow in his lead.

Challenge yourselves, comics and punters alike. Take a little time to try something different. Leave your preconceptions at the door and your genitalia neatly tucked away. You'll be amazed at the gems you'll find when you lock the door marked ‘easy way out’.

Published: 4 Mar 2010