Pierre Novellie Archives - The Real Chrisparkle

Do you ever get the feeling that some things are just Not Meant To Be? Pierre Novellie’s performance of his Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Nice Things? tour was originally scheduled for last November in the Underground but postponed due to the ongoing fight against the RAAC in the building. Moved to February, it then had to be transferred first to the Royal, and then to the relatively unlikely venue of Screen Two at the adjacent Northampton Filmhouse. A stand-up show in a plush, luxury cinema screen? Surely the vibe won’t work. Update: a good comedian will make this venue work absolutely fine!

Then, seven minutes before whatever is the stand-up equivalent of Curtain Up, the fire alarms sound. Evacuation from the building; not only Screen Two, but also Screen One and the Derngate auditorium, where one can only assume the pyrotechnics of The Greatest Hits of Motown got a little out of hand. Very well marshalled and looked after by the R&D staff by the way, top marks to you all. False alarm; we all returned to our seats. Thus Pierre Novellie’s show battled on bravely, fifteen minutes late in an unconventional venue. Then it became clear that his microphone didn’t work properly. Mr Novellie’s rich dulcet tones were coming across all tinny and that would have been tough for an hour and twenty minutes. Then he tried dispensing with the microphone completely – fine for us in the third row but perhaps not so great if you were at the back. Ten minutes later a replacement microphone was found. Result – success! And then the show could really get going. But that was a difficult start for Mr N and a less experienced comic could well have been thrown by it all.

But not Pierre Novellie. He has a smart, confident air about him without ever suggesting anything pompous or condescending; naturally likeable, he gets a very good rapport going with the audience which quickly overcame any of the shortcomings of the venue. Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Nice Things? was his Edinburgh Fringe show from 2022, and he explained that our performance would be its final outing.

The title of his show echoes the internal questionings that try to explain and rationalise what’s going in his head. He’s a 60% man; that’s the percentage at which he tends to appreciate things. To him that’s an honest and perfectly decent satisfaction level; the same as six out of ten, or three (maybe three and a half) stars on an advertising billboard, signifying a completely agreeable experience. But, as he points out, that’s a score that’s of no use to anyone. He also knows that when you’re asked, in a romantic setting, what are you thinking about, the last thing you must reply is the truth – i.e. nothing, which is absolutely what nearly all men are thinking about most of the time.

This is intelligent, sophisticated comedy, full of great observations and reflections covering a wide range of subjects that include the crying-laughing emoji and Berlin’s notorious P*ss Goblin (Google it if you dare). He has a beautifully narrated experience of attending a performance of The Play That Goes Wrong seated next to the audience member from Hell, and a unique way of defining the public that manages to exclude us from it so that we remain on “his side” of the argument throughout. I also loved his account of how accurately you set your morning alarm when you go to bed really late – and the downside of so doing; it’s something that everyone can recognise.

It’s a superbly crafted show elegantly delivered using pinpoint perfect language selected to have the maximum effect. Mr N is truly on the up-and-up; he’s already touring again with last year’s Edinburgh Fringe hit, Why Are You Laughing? I think the answer to that question would be obvious.

The Underground was completely packed for the final night of this season’s (and this year’s) Screaming Blue Murder comedy nights – which meant people arriving late not only had the ignominy of being picked on by our host Dan Evans (in rip-roaring form) but they also had to stand around whilst new chairs were sourced from other parts of the building. Dan was also able to warm us up nicely by finding out all about the people in the front row, including Peter the rather bashful Civil Engineer, Charlie who was most definitely not his girlfriend, and two “beautiful couples” including a 25th birthday boy, who was given Jimmy Carr tickets as a gift – cue lots of entertaining jealousy humour from Dan.

All the acts were new to us this week, and I reckon that’s the first time I’ve been able to say that in over three years, so we were very excited at the prospect. First act was Pierre Novellie, an imposing chap with a bushy beard and polite and friendly persona, the occasional “f word” notwithstanding. He had some nice material about the fact that, as he is of white South African heritage, racists assume he is “one of us”; and there was also some enjoyable stuff where he gives monotonous but appropriate lyrics to film scores. But I felt his approach was almost too gentle, and a lot of his material felt like padding, waiting for a punchline that might or might not eventually happen. He started his act with a good ten minutes about his name, most of which was quite boring I’m afraid. If he got some new material his act could go places – but as it stands, he’s paddling in the shallow end at the moment.

However, he was a comic genius in comparison with our second act, Lou Sanders. She looks like she’s going to be jolly, and she did have some good material in a quirky sort of way – her chat with an audience member being on Tinder was pretty good – but for some reason she didn’t build up a rapport and when she ran out of material a bit too early, something of a car crash ensued. She announced that she’d be doing her final joke, but it wasn’t that good and didn’t lead to much of a laugh; then she confessed she’d run out of things to say (they were written on her hand) and, realising she still had five minutes to do, panicked a little and it all came across as though she was begrudging us her time and attention. She had just started another joke she said would definitely be the last, when a heckle from the back put her off and she just decided she’d stop there and wouldn’t carry on. This created a surge of embarrassment-led sympathy from the front rows but she was adamant that there was no point in carrying on and that her act wasn’t for everybody.

The headline act was Sean Meo, and at last we had a comic who knew how to be funny. An older chap, much more experienced, full of attack and vigour, who created an excellent rapport with the audience, using some extremely good material, delivered with terrific timing. Even so, I found one element of his act dangerously close to offensive, when he had some material about “midgets” (his choice of terminology), saying that we “tolerate” them, but don’t look at them and ignore them, which counts as disablist content in my view. Still, his masterful delivery and jokey blokey personality allowed him to get away with it, and he went down very well with the audience.

So not the best comedy night ever, but not the worst either. Let’s hope the great turn-out for last Friday’s show continues when the next season comes along in the New Year. Can’t wait!