Back on tour - Ben Elton at The Cresset

And it’s fresh ideas which have always driven his ground breaking stand-up comedy routines, plenty of which will be being explored in Ben’s brand new stand-up tour – there are still a few tickets to see him at The Cresset in Peterborough tomorrow – his first since 2019 (the previous one having been 15 years before that).

The show’s called Authentic Stupidity, and it’s all about the ridiculous things we humans do and think.

“The tour title is a little joke about how we’re all saying that Artificial Intelligence is this great threat to humanity, which of course it is, but I reckon the biggest threat is actually Authentic Stupidity! Never mind AI, let’s start by worrying about AS! But really all my tours could have been called Authentic Stupidity, because they’re always comic explorations of the essential absurdity of existence. I think all good comedy is,” explains Elton.

“I’ve always done that in my routines. Sharing my own fears and joys and exasperations. Just being as funny as I can about the s**t that’s on my mind”.

“Every part of my comedy is an exploration of human inadequacy,” he says, using Blackadder as one of his earliest examples “Blackadder thinks he’s so clever but his vanity, his jealousy and his ambition screw him every time. We need to accept that we are not everything and that we don’t know everything. If we did that I think we’d do less harm to ourselves and to the planet. The world would probably be a lot nicer and safer if we all embraced our inner Baldrick!”

That’s not to say this is all misanthropy, though. “In some ways, the world is better now. I think younger people have started to accept that weakness is OK; that weakness is merely an acknowledgement that you might need help, that you aren’t necessarily the thing you want to be or that people expect you to be. All these things that we used to hide are coming out more.”

There are, of course, aspects of modern life that have emphatically not improved, in his opinion. And while insisting he’s not a luddite, he’s acutely aware of where technology is going wrong. (His most recent novel, Identity Crisis, has some clever themes about how technology is deployed in the stoking of culture wars with nefarious intentions.)

“Personally, I would rather the internet wasn’t around because, although it’s ingenious and useful, it’s destroying democracy as we speak,” he says.

“And now we’ve invented AI, I mean how stupid is that? If a terrorist went on television and said, ‘We’ve come up with a machine that will literally make human beings redundant we’d send in MI5! We’d think this is a genuinely existential threat to the future of humanity. But because this is a bunch of tech bros and billionaires in California, we’re all just going, ‘Oh well, apparently it’s going to be able to write new Beatles songs.’”

Interestingly, Elton doesn’t think of himself as being a great comic performer; for him it’s all about his writing, which he’s repeatedly proven himself to be great at, ever since the cult sitcom The Young Ones hit BBC Two in 1982.

It’s fascinating learning how a comedian’s early forays into stand-up can shape their persona. Those accustomed to today’s (relatively) polite audiences would blanche at the often-brutal atmosphere of the Comedy Store in London, where Elton – along with the likes of Rik Mayall, Adrian Edmondson, French & Saunders and Jo Brand – cut his teeth.

“Back then it was two shows a night, the early one at 10pm, then one at midnight, in a strip club in Soho. It was 1981, Brixton was in flames, Thatcher was starting her ten-year war on society and sometimes audiences were tense and angry,” he explains.

“People weren’t tuned into what we now call alternative comedy, which I would describe as the comedy of ideas, where you use your own principles and beliefs to form your own comedy. That’s certainly what I did. People were used to comedians who told jokes and part of the joke might be about dealing with hecklers, so there was this idea that that was what a comic did – they dealt with hecklers. I hate hecklers. I’ve never heard a witty heckle. They’re mythical.”

“I developed what was probably an overly combative style just to shut the idiots down” says Elton. “It took me a long time to get out of the shadow of the gong.”

But over a lifetime of hugely successful stand up he’s learnt to have faith in audiences’ – partly because they’re now paying to see him specifically, unlike in those days when they’d show up and be presented with a line-up of unknowns.

“I learnt not to trust them, thinking that, if I paused, someone would shout out,” he says. “I can pause a little bit now, but I still don’t pause much because I’ve just got too much to say.”