Ahead of the 2010 New Zealand International Comedy festival, I thought it apt to put up the two, somewhat contrasting, reviews of my '09 festival show James Keating: Billbored. TVNZ is the state broadcaster, and theatreview are dicks.

"James Keating is one of this year's Billy T Nominees- up against the likes of Vaughan King, Dave Wiggins, Jim Brown and Chris Brain. His comedy is full of witticisms and keen observations of the way certain companies pitch to us the ideas they want us to buy into. The commentary he offers on the ridiculous nature of advertising is very clever and in this world of economic downturn there is more material than ever in the form of bizarre advertising. Keating has a very idiosyncratic style of delivery that is hinted at in the placid expression he bears on his poster and the title's pun. Do not expect high-energy comedy with dynamic comedian-audience interaction, and do not expect to lose yourself in a winding web of comedy. Instead, expect slowly delivered, ultra-low-key, ultra-ultra-low energy - yet truly funny observations on the motivational messages you find on trucks and trams, dyslexia sufferers playing scrabble and similar musings. Occasionally Keating's style leads to certain punch lines being lost under his breath which can be a little disappointing - so I can only recommend you pay close attention if you want to catch the pay-off. James Keating could potentially be the next winner of the infamous yellow towel, a symbol for the prestigious Billy T award (taken out in previous years by Steve Wrigley, Cori Gonzalez-Macuer and many other icons of New Zealand Comedy)- so here's your chance to see what impressed the judges and what made him a nominee."

TVNZ


"Although a few gems rang out at the opening night of Billbored, it was mostly tepid laughs for the premiere of James Keating's stand-up act. Performing at the Fringe Bar, once known as Bluenote, Keating's show doesn't really explore the themes implied in his programme blurb, so if you're expecting a postmodern spin on advertising and TV slogans you won't find it here. Instead, Keating takes us in typical stand-up style through various puns and jokes, my personal favourite involving a pet tapeworm who thinks his owner is a bum. His performance is bolstered by the venue, which lends itself particularly well to stand-up comedy with sparkly, shimmering curtains and cosy couches. The relaxed bar generates an even and comfortable environment just perfect for this type of comedy. While Keating certainly has a charming stage presence and an easy-going personality, on opening night I detected a small case of the jitters which prevented him from fully engaging with the audience. Some more focused eye contact would do wonders in helping him make that ever so important audience/performer connection. He nailed a few of the jokes and enticed a laugh or two out of most of us, but unfortunately much of the show was delivered with as little punch as an old carrot. However, I'm sure that his act will tidy up as the run progresses and his confidence builds."

Theatreview

Every occupation probably gets its stock standard questions, but as a comedian I feel it is my duty to have funny comebacks for them. I sort of work on them as though they were material, and if they are good enough I'll add them to the show. One of the FAQ's I get a lot is, do I make a living off comedy? A cheekier version of that question is do you make much money off comedy?, which tends to back me into a corner a bit more than the first version of that question. FAQT is, I don't make very much money off comedy at all. For an hourly rate it's an absolute shitload, but I seldom work more than one hour per week. But there is no feeling on earth that compares with writing, performing, then getting paid for an original joke. All the idea has to do is get a laugh. It doesn't have to be built or mass produced or packaged. It's purely ethereal. Because of this intensely satisfying feeling I get from comedy it doesn't really bother me if I have lean weeks in the bank balance department. I do occasionally pick up the odd bit of painting work here and there. Currently I'm helping a couple of mates paint their houses - one inside and one outside. It's a bit weird working for your mates, but I guess they'd rather hire someone they know, and I'd rather work for someone I know, and we've both got the contacts. There comes a point as a comedian where you do have to decide whether you have the goods to do it full time. Part of being a comedian is thinking of yourself as a comedian, and this is a realization I had at the start of this year. Funny thing is, it wasn't the first time I'd tried going full time as a comedian, it was my third. The thought dawned on me as I was waiting tables in a restaurant job I'd only started a few weeks earlier, but which my heart wasn't really in. What helped galvanize the idea was a conversation I had with another comedian backstage at the comedy club in which his response to my telling him I was waiting tables was,
"say it ain't so. Why don't you try living on weet-bix and two minute noodles just so you can do comedy full time?" To any other person this would not have been an inspiring thing to hear - maybe it was a load lightener just to hear that someone else had been through it all before.
P.s I do eat better than that!

It's easy to think that by the time you finish high school you must have figured out what you want to do with the rest of your life. Or that because you didn't have it figured out by the time you left high school you will never really know what you want to do. Maybe that's because school only teaches us right/wrong, or linear thinking - that there is only one possible path through life, so you better have figured out the right path to be on as early as possible, or it's too late. Life can happen like a good conversation. One thing leads to the next. You can't possibly know what is at point c before you have reached point b. Maybe to reach point c you first must fail at point b. Maybe you would never have arrived at point c had you not failed at point b. That's another thing school doesn't teach us - that failure is ok. At school there is a pass/fail mentality. Black or white. Pass is good, fail is bad. Failure is part of life, yet school does not prepare you for that or teach you that. Failure is never all bad. Looked at the right way and with the right attitude, failure can be an important stepping stone to the next thing. If failure is never all bad, then at least one good thing can be gleaned from every failure. Failure can at least teach you not to make the same mistake again.

A couple of years ago I went to Melbourne and fell in love with the place so I decided to move there from New Zealand. I'd recently done my own show in the New Zealand comedy festival, and afterwards I was wondering, "where to from here?" I was young and thought I could move to Melbourne and dominate the comedy scene there. I took a job at the Last Laugh comedy club as a sales rep/hawker. Instead of selling fluffy toys out of a shoulder bag I was selling eight-dollar comedy show tickets out of a black satchel. I must have gone into every shop in the Melbourne CBD with my patter that I had down to a tea: "Hi I'm from the comedy club and I'm selling eight-dollar comedy show tickets...have you heard of these guys before (show them a card with a bunch of famous comedians on it - none of whom were ever on at our club!)? etc." I had to sell at least 100 tix per week to get a commission, otherwise it was just $15/hour. Most weeks I cracked it. At night I was hitting the pubs that held weekly or fortnightly comedy nights and getting on stage to do my 10-minute act. Sometimes the only people in the crowd were the other comedians on that night, but it was always good fun.

Out on the race track there is just one man driving the car, but after the race he will be effusive about all the help he received from his team, the support crew. Last night when I got back on stage after a four week hiatus from comedy it all came down to me on stage, and none of the two people who had given me some vital encouragement going into the gig were there, but I couldn't have done it without them. Going into a gig, on the day I often seem to have a premonition as to whether or not the gig is going to go well or not, or perhaps more to the point, whether or not I'm going to enjoy it. The gig most often goes better than I think it does, but as I am my own harshest critic, it's sometimes easy to forget that. The crowd can be enjoying it more than I am sometimes - you've always got to find ways to avoid comedy becoming just another day at the office. Last night was a very relaxed affair - it always is at Snatch Bar comedy nite - the crowd was small and the venue intimate. I rolled through some material I'm still developing, most of which got laughs. My biggest laughs came from moments of spontaneity as I found the situation bringing out unplanned gems. Magical. Thankyou support crew, I couldn't have done it without you.