London has spawned numerous enduring comedy clubs since the emergence of alternative comedy at the Comedy Store in 1979. Among them The Bearcat in Twickenham, The Bedford in Balham and my old local East Dulwich Comedy, which is sadly no longer with us. But Downstairs at the King's Head claims to be the longest-running in the same venue, having started in the basement of the Crouch End pub in 1981.
And thus it gets a film all about it, made by Joe Bor, who previously co-directed the film about a comedian from the same vintage, the late Ian Cognito. Bor's new film goes right back to the early days and brings the story right up to date, springing a few surprises along the way
For better or worse there were no phone cameras in those early anarchic years, so there is very little old footage. Instead the film largely comprises of comedians of a certain age (and largely of a certain colour, gender, sexuality) paying homage to the place where they cut their teeth and, more importantly, paying homage to Peter Grahame, the man who started it all and is still there, watching from the wings and cracking a few corny but winning jokes himself.
It's a story that in many ways writes itself, though this is not taking anything away from Bor, who has done a grand job knitting everything togther. Needless to say the likes of Stewart Lee, Nick Helm, Prince Abdi, Miles Jupp, Phil Nichol (pictured) and Seann Walsh have some wonderful anecdotes about weird gigs and weird acts there and the vibe of the room. If you want to know how nervewracking comedy can be for a beginner there's a story of how the "B" on the concrete wall backdrop has worn away after so many nervous stand-ups backed into it.
There are some colourful stories about the changing face of Crouch End, which say something wider about the gentrification of London, how it went from bedsitland residents in the front row to stockbrokers. There are also tales that must seem positively alien to tech-savvy newcomers - if you wanted to get a gig out of Peter Grahame you had to call him between 9am and 11am. Probably on a landline too. And of course in the old pre-wifi days comics found out venues via Time Out's pioneering listings started by Malcolm Hay. Back then every act had the adjective that summed them up - "skilful", "stylish" and, maybe an urban myth this one, "punctual".
If the film feels slightly overlong that might be because there were so many great stories - and great comics – it was impossible to leave them out. Past regular comperes Huw Thomas and Dominic Frisby have plenty to add too as does rising star Laura Smyth (and apologies to names I've missed out). Alan Francis, who has some tales to tell, would make a great young Barry Humphries if anyone is thinking of making a biopic.
It's a shame there aren't any bigger names though. It might have been a stretch to get Dave Chappelle, who apparently pitched up there, or Sean Hughes, who booked a gig there when he first came over from Ireland, but couldn't they have got Jo Brand or Eddie Izzard, both of whom played there? It might not have brought the average age of the interviewees down, but it would have made the cast list more diverse.
Then again Grahame's club dates from a different age, when diversity probably meant having a varied selection of crisps behind the bar. It's great to see it still going though. Times have recently been tough for the club and, it turns out, for Grahame himself. who comes across as avuncular, amiable and well-organised, geographically and personality-wise the opposite of the late Greenwich legend, Malcolm Hardee. This film starts off as a tribute to the club, but ends as a very fitting tribute to Grahame.
The Oldest Comedy Club In Britain is being screened at the Arthouse Cinema in Crouch End near to the club on April 29 and May 3 & 8. It will also be screened at various festivals and at some point hopefully on a streaming site. Details here.
