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RAY PEACOCK

          Right, let’s get this out of the way. Ian Boldsworth is Ray Peacock. Ray Peacock is his stage name. A fairly common tactic amongst performers. But the confusion occurs when you are informed that Ray Peacock is a character. No, Ray Peacock was a character, a sort of Northern stereotype with flat cap and all that. But he doesn’t do that anymore (or at least has stopped for now). Now he’s more or less himself, but with a stage name.

          It’s like Star-Wars. Annakin Skywalker eventually became Darth Vader; two different individuals who were actually the same person. And it’s a similar situation here. Ray Peacock the character is now Ray Peacock the comedian. I never saw the character act, but if he was half as good as the comedian Ray, I would have enjoyed it greatly.

          The Star Wars metaphor would probably meet the approval of a man who walks onto stage brandishing a lightsabre for no discernable reason other than he really likes it. The fact that it doesn’t get a cheer simply for existing seems to annoy him greatly, just like a child with a new toy shouting ‘look what I got!’ at people passing in the street. But it’s a good attitude to have, as we soon discover.

          It probably wasn’t the best audience for comedy. The age range was greatly varied, the seating plan was confused and a bit sprawling with no feeling of ‘intimacy’ that seems to be help in most gigs, and people seemed a bit quiet, in a weird sort of way.

          But no matter. The gig was a bit of a slow starter, then built up a bit. Peacocks child-like enthusiasm is contagious to many, and most of those caught up from the off seemed to be on my side of the room. Jokes, stories, anecdotes, observations, all delivered with the same childish glee of a kid who’s desperate to show everyone the brilliant squidgy thing he’s just found in the garden. The child-like description is one he applies to himself on a number of occasions. Then came the argument.

          Character Ray Peacock was known to be a hecklers nightmare, destroying those who dared to try and get one up on him. Comedian Ray Peacock seems to be a much more open, gentle and approachable type. To which I should just point out again that IT’S THE SAME PERSON!

          Half way through an undeniably harmless reference to his girlfriend going for surgery in a BUPA hospital, some mad woman in the front row gets on her high horse and starts shouting her mouth off about how she would never use BUPA.
          Peacock is notorious for wandering off on a tangent and confesses to really enjoy bantering with the audience. So this was just too good an opportunity to miss, and here’s where he really sets himself above your standard comedians.

          In the space of 5 minutes he’d drawn this woman into a conversation she clearly didn’t want to be having, accused him of flirting with her, dragged her husband into it, slapped her high and mighty self down several times and even got other audience members into the argument.

          This culminated in her storming off to the toilet after trying to criticise Peacock’s writing abilities (perhaps a valid point if he’d been doing material, but he clearly wasn’t). She paused half way to incomprehensibly berate him further, which only led to Peacock’s (and everyone else’s) further confusion which he brilliantly milked by criticising her stage manners and accusing her of being a Velociraptor (it made sense at the time).

          Even when she was in the toilet, he badgered her now-suicidal husband and got someone to make a giraffe noise when she returned (which they did).
          Its stuff like this which makes a Peacock gig, even his on stage assessment about how weird this all was proved to be great comedy.

          Not that his material is poor. Far from it, but it’s hard to tell where the banter ends and the material begins thanks to the manner in which he does both. Stories about his girlfriend are prominent, followed by stories about the stories about his girlfriend, followed by self assessment about why he tells stories about his girlfriend, and so on.

          You might say it’s all self-indulgent stuff. If you go to comedy expecting accurate yet witty observations on the current climate of fear in the post 9/11 world, you won’t like Peacock. His comedy is all about the stuff he gets up to, and told in such a way that even incidents that look relatively bland on paper become hilarious when he tells them.

          I get the feeling that his inability to stay off tangents when faced with even a slightly interesting audience interaction would mean he wouldn’t fare so well in bigger but less personal venues, or when faced with a more uptight crowd who want to see ‘proper’ comedians, a crowd of people who fold their pyjamas and read the financial times and see comedy as a ‘diversion’ rather than ‘enjoyment’ or ‘fun’. I get the feeling that the BUPA hating lady was one of these.

          But Ray Peacock is a master of his own style of comedy, and it’s hard not to like someone so enthusiastic about the weird and idiotic things people can come out with. And it must be a good thing when the biggest criticism you can make of someone is based on what might happen in gigs that may  never occur.
          Hooray for Ray, I say. OK? Now go away. I’m not gay.

Dean Burnett

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