Cancer comedy special! Richard Herring, Mark Steel, Miles Jupp - Mark Muldoon's Comedy Diary
Written by:
Mark Muldoon
Published: Wednesday 19th March 2025
If you live in the south east of England, it was possible to go see
three comedy shows about cancer last week (not sure why. Might be Thames
Water's fault?).
In fact, for two of them you didn't even have to leave Leicester Square Theatre.
One such show was
Miles Jupp, who was diagnosed with a brain tumour (which, to be clear, turned out to be benign) back in
2021.
If you previously found yourself unable to warm to Jupp whenever he
pops up on TV, you'll find it much harder to argue with the
borderline-relentless quantity - as well as admirable quality - of the
humour on offer here, despite the odd cultural reference going over the
head of even this geriatric millennial. He has near-unmatched skill for
comedic turns of phrase.
On I Bang
does feature a pretty typical number of recurring jokes, although you'd
have to question whether they're good enough to carry as much of the
show's weight as they do. Otherwise, you can't help but be impressed by
Jupp's seeming ability to find the humour in every small incremental
aspect of his medical process. There's
just a few tour dates left if you want to catch him.
Three nights later in Hertford,
Mark Steel (throat cancer,
2023, tour
extended until November)
shows little sign of being held back by his medical crisis, despite it
all taking place in much more recent history. In fact, you'd go as far
as to say he bounds on stage with rock star energy.
And what a time of it he's had: radiotherapy then chemotherapy,
alongside five months of not being able to eat or drink properly. Truth
be told, you'd maybe want to cut about half an hour off his near 2hr 30m
stage time - he's prone to diversions that aren't always good enough to
justify the detour, in a show that's hardly in need of additional
bulking out. Having recently been put off by the anti-woke rantings of
certain other older comedians, his equivalent is more convincing, highlighting the liberals that moan
and whinge, then wonder why nobody likes them. He's also great on the
evergreen topicality of the Duchess of Sussex.
Both Jupp and Steel lean towards a certain
Radio 4 style of comedy, so by this stage
Richard Herring's (testicular cancer,
2021,
touring until May)
traditionally more childish style of humour counts as something of a
welcome change of pace. It's also a style of humour that probably suits
the subject matter better, as puerile gags neatly counterbalance the
seriousness of the subject matter, leading to a more satisfying final
show. Plus, you've got to admit: testicles are just innately funny.
Amongst the huge amount of horror and fear you'd experience going
through this ordeal, a professional comedian might hopefully find a
shred of solace in that fact (plus testicular cancer has one of the
highest survival rates. Sorry female comedians). It's a more puerile
show, then, if also, surprisingly, more sentimental and, on occasion,
more like a sermon than you'd expect.
His opening line is the finest I've heard in years (despite largely
confusing the Leicester Square Theatre audience): "I always had trouble
keeping double acts together". It should also be a source of substantial
pride that he both ran a half marathon and won
Taskmaster
Champion of Champions so soon after having had testicular cancer,
although I suspect most comedians would resist the temptation to flash
up their half marathon time on screen, or a picture of them with their
Taskmaster trophy.
Both Jupp and Herring are nearing the end of their tours now, so
maybe it makes sense that their shows are the two more tightly honed.
There's also one gag that all three gentlemen make some version of: "do I
survive? You'll have to come back after the interval to find out!", and
fair play really: good joke, right there for the taking.
But what grand lessons are to be learnt from watching 5½ hours of
cancer comedy in one week? All three remember they're in the comedy
business, not theatre, so it's not been the emotionally draining
exercise you might expect. Quite the opposite: I leave with renewed
appreciation for comedy's ability to be big, beautiful, a force for good
in the world. For the worth in finding the humour during difficult
times. In terms of practical advice on offer, if you're concerned about
something, be proactive. Perhaps doggedly so. You probably won't
drastically change your life after a near death experience, and that's
fine. Do expect a change in outlook though: greater life appreciation,
less whining, less 'sweating the small stuff'.
Across all five shows, audiences skew older. Even Herring's typically
pretty millennial-ish audience seem largely absent on this occasion.
People under 45, it seems, have little interest in comedy about cancer.
But perhaps one of the most striking lessons is how often people see the
experience as
a net positive, in terms of gifting them a new faith in humanity/family/healthcare workers. Amongst this sample group of white male comedian survivors, anyway. It's also clear that cancer treatment has got a lot better in
recent years as well, and continues to do so. In the meantime, any of
these five shows are well worth seeing if you get the chance. Let us
know if you manage to see four in a week.
Read the review here https://www.comedy.co.uk/live/features/mark-muldoon-comedy-diary-69/