Jewish comedy’s big fight back!

It was raining on Sunday night, so anyone you know who was in town was there for one reason only – to laugh. Jolly before they even entered the auditorium (as we are when we see a familiar face outside of Radlett) a passerby might have been momentarily confused by the mood.

After all, Othello was on the marquee outside the Theatre Royal Haymarket. Now Shakespeare’s moor has been known to raise a smile with the line “think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy?” but he could not have competed with the line-up of mirth makers at the Big Jewish Comedy Gala. 

Renowned individually on the circuit, having Sara Barron, Olivia Lee, Bennett Arron and headliner Simon Brodkin on the same bill was a rare treat. That comedians Rachel Creeger and Philip Simon made it happen was a coup – and one that will be repeated again and again hopefully.

The BJCG was in fact a pointed, uplifting response to a year of unsubtle cancellations and visible sidelining of Jewish performers in UK entertainment. This was comedy as refusal.

The event was also organised to raise funds for the Community Security Trust (CST) — the serious bit of the fun — but acknowledging the charity’s vital work did not interfere with the gags. Creeger and Simon may have been cancelled “just for being Jewish” at last year’s Edinburgh Festival, but the night wasn’t weighed down by anger – it was powered by it and sharpened into jokes.

As compere, Philip Simon warmed the stage perfectly, opening by likening the theatre to an El Al flight: seat-strategising, spotting relatives in the stalls, suspicious quantities of Diet Coke at the bar and the unshakeable knowledge that if the audience didn’t enjoy themselves “they will find you afterwards and tell you why”.

Despite the scale of the Haymarket (and it was a sell-out), Sara Barron didn’t flinch when she hit the stage. She’s from New York, where jokes have elbows and aren’t afraid to use them, though she felt the need to half-apologise for being American in the current climate. When her set veered into sexual territory it was challenging for those sat beside their bubba or child, but the guffaws continued for those who weren’t.

A break to gather ourselves and Bennett Arron appeared. Welsh and Jewish, he admitted it was a tough time to be “Welsh”. Kerching!  Arron, a master of restraint, talked about the moment he, as a child, realised Christmas would never be part of his life. “Because we don’t believe in Jesus,” said his father. “Not even cheddar?” replied Arron.

The Welshman is also one of those rare comics who doesn’t swear, but the reason he doesn’t you need to hear from him. but it involves his mother and Radox – and my husband is still laughing.

Olivia Lee shifted the tone without losing the room when she spoke candidly about parenting a child with global developmental delay and her propensity for shoplifting. Laughing felt wrong, but essential and then she pivoted neatly into her ongoing war with Capri Sun straws. So do we and it was a nice touch that led neatly into the interval and one of those Diet cokes.

The audience needed no second bell to return.

Up next was Rachel Creeger, a proud Essex girl and now the only practising Orthodox Jewish comedian since Ashley Blaker hung up his black hat. Self-deprecating and warm as a blintze, her finale brought music. A song about foreskins set to the tune of Wham’s Freedom. Creeger’s smart adaptation was inspired by years of awkward questions about Judaism – particularly “what happens to all the foreskins?” and did we join in with “Jew Jew Jew” to replace “Do Do Do” at her behest? Of course we did!

By the time headliner Simon Brodkin appeared, we were primed. Charging on shouting “Free, free…” he paused, then deadpanned: “Wrong gig.” Dismissing the idea that Jewish comedians (and Jews generally) have a hotline to the Israeli government, he revealed: “I can’t even get Barnet Council to deal with a sofa bed dumped at the end of my road” before offering hope of sorts: that Greta Thunberg may have achieved the impossible by briefly uniting Hamas and the Jewish community in shared irritation.

Sharing what was said at the Haymarket feels a little like breaking a comedy secret – like the Magic Circle pledge, but it is also fitting, because the BJCG line-up was magic. Unusually for comedians, they even made the landlord laugh. The landlord being Danny Cohen, President of Access Entertainment, which owns the Haymarket and made the night possible, along with CST who kept us all safe.

Ultimately the message that came through wrapped in humour was that uniquely Jewish blend of self-awareness and defiance. If comedy is about timing, the Big Jewish Comedy Gala landed right on the hour – and should  keep on ticking.

Support cst.org.uk and follow @philipscomedy @rachcreeger @sarabarron1000000 @simonbrodkin @bennett.arron @olivialeetv