Ken Campbell: Beyond our Ken

by Chris on Oct.13, 2009, under Blog

I was meant to go to an Arthur Russell retrospective at the ICA this evening but dropped everything and bought a ticket to the Olivier when I found out the National Theatre was hosting a celebration of the life of Ken Campbell as part of its Platforms series.

Now I didn’t know Ken personally nor had I ever seen any of his prodigious body of work (before tonight at any rate). I am, however, a member of the London impro community and you can’t hang around with that crowd for very long without realising how important Mr Campbell is. In fact, he seems to be stamped indelibly onto the lives and careers of some of the greatest improvisors I know.

You see I came to impro just a few months after Campbell’s death and it seems to me that his absence still defines a part of the London scene. People talk about his theories and opinions all the time, it’s very much ingrained into the fabric of the community. I feel very sad that I came so close to meeting such a great man and in many ways the fact that I didn’t puts me in a different comedy generation to my contemporaries. I’m PC – a Post Campbell improvisor.

Of course, he was much more than just an improvisor. By all accounts he was a genius, a superb writer and performer; a brilliant, erratic, eccentric curmudgeon with a real gift for supporting others. The evening I just spent at the theatre was a bit like him – just off-the-wall, balls out crazy.

For a start it was meant to be just over two hours long and ended up closer to three and a half, the cast a glittering ensemble of powerhouse comic talent from John Sessions to Toby Jones by way of Nina Conti and the guy who played Alf Garnett. Everyone spent the whole evening talking with Campbell’s voice – a kind of a cross between an Essex wide boy and a goblin.

The acts themselves were amazing – monologues and extracts from Campbell’s plays (one of which The Warp is over 22 hours long if performed in its entireity). Someone mimed being bacon frying (ask me to demonstrate), another stripped naked to his socks and copulated with a giant golden apple. There was an inspired sketch revolving around a 20ft long piece of black knicker elastic and an extract from Macbeth translated into Pidgin English.

My favourite moment came from Nina Conti, who was bequeathed all Ken’s ventriloquist puppets in his will. She told us how she had spent the best part of this year “trying to find new voices” for them all. Conti has always been a master of making puppets live and breathe, a strange alchemy where she is almost able to split her soul in two and this was a bravura performance. The last puppet she hauled out of her trunk was a mini version of the man himself. At the very end of her act she begun to pack him away only for mini-Campbell to exclaim loudly “Don’t put me back into another box”.

It was a brilliant moment, both hilarious and heart breaking. Everyone on stage obviously had so much love and respect for the guy but that didn’t stop them scoring a cheap laugh out of his death. You got the feeling that he would have approved entirely. Even after she shut the trunk, he kept protesting in a muffled voice. I still can’t shake the notion that there were two people on stage during that scene.

The evening culminated with the entire cast engaged in an improvised haka, the finest proponent of which (chosen by audience reaction) recieved Campbell’s entire DVD collection of Jackie Chan films*. It was just that sort of an evening.

Certainly not your average night at the theatre.

But then it wasn’t your average life either.

* Ken had been told by the spirit of Laurence Olivier, via a seance, that Jackie Chan was the world’s greatest living actor. His collection of Chan DVDs was so large, it had to be wheeled on stage on a trolley.

:comedy, impro, theatre

3 Comments for this entry

Vroomboo
October 13th, 2009 on 9:25 am
Ken was a man to fear.

Before he arrived at the rehearsal for Showstopper The Improvised Musical (before it was called Showstopper and before SofN decided to have the on stage Director – the latter being Ken’s demand), members of School of Night warned us ‘performers’ to brace ourselves and not take his critique personally.

As one of the few non-actors (trained) at the rehearsal… I was nervous and prepared to give him a mouthful back (My standard mindset when given prior warning of a bully’s arrival).

Ken walked into the rehearsal while 2 actors were improvising a scene.

Ken had a big tummy, a large kitsch Wolf head on his t-shirt, dirty Mac and crumpled hat. He swaggered in like a young John Sessions. Ken shouted at the blonde on stage – declaring she wasn’t attractive enough to pull focus from Dylan so shouldn’t be nervous thinking people were watching her (or words to that affect).

My sisterhood kicked in and I felt angry….and helpless (a moment I’m not proud of). Everyone was silent… The scene dribbled away. I haven’t seen the blonde since.

She is a trained actor and a smaller/prettier woman than me…

I knew I was in for it.

On stage – I positioned myself behind the other actors. They bent into position. Ken shouted for me to stand taller…. and strut…. “work those boots”… “more more!”.

I became the Nazi officious boss i’d dreamed of being as a child (NOT)…aka Dominatrix (my brother’s prediction of my future career)…

This was the start of the Ken and Wanda thing…

He was drawn to me… it was like… he couldn’t get a handle on me.. he wanted to capture something or pull something out of me…??? It wasn’t sexual chemistry or fatherly…

Alan Marriott told me to avoid Ken, School of Night people stopped being as friendly.. Ken would telephone me and command I go to Oxford, spend time with Tour Guides, Gargoyles, Sean McCann.

He was angry I was in Greece during rehearsals (I didn’t know there was a show… and that I was to be in it!).

He said I was like Jim Carey and Jack Black. A modern day Lucille Ball.

He said all the other actors can go and do TV – the Bill and Eastenders… I was suited for movies.. Hollywood.

He put me in his shows. Diagnosed me with Facial Tourettes (apparently I impersonate everything I see and hear with my face – I have proof)

….my regret is I was just a naïve and silly girl – in regards my experience of performing… I didn’t have the skills, wisdom, bravery and self awareness to grab the opportunities he placed on me and run with them…. THEN!

Just before his death Ken advised I take Sylvester McCoy out for tea and ask his advice on being a ‘flexible face’ actor.

Last night Sylvester and I made a date (mid way through our chat John Sessions interrupted…. Graciously I let JS speak (heee heeee).

So Ken’s legacy and this story continues….

Yippeeeeee
Chris
October 13th, 2009 on 10:16 am
Wow! That’s amazing.

Could you tell Sylvester that he was my favourite Doctor by far and that he’s a massive hero of mine? I’m so jealous.

I was also inspired by last night, to the point where I emailed Nina Conti and asked her to teach me ventriloquism. I got a response at 6.00am this morning.

Looks like we’re both taken our dreams in our hands …
Michael
October 13th, 2009 on 11:24 am
Last night was sublime. I saw The Warp in 1998, and their recreation of bits of it, with many of the same cast, brought all its mighty poetry flooding back. And I did so enjoy faux-Ken haranguing Ganesh at the back.

I was inspired to sign up for a day-long course in Renaissance hermetic myth and magick.