Simon Donald

Simon Donald

Posted: 13 Jun 2010

Comic to comic: Simon Donald
Live Theatre, Newcastle

Most stand-up comedians ply their trade by peddling invented stories about their lives to get a laugh – playing themselves writ large. Not Simon Donald. He’s either totally himself – or five completely different characters.

Let me explain. The co-creator of Viz magazine – now a full-time performer – has devised a one-man show of two very distinct halves, but with Viz firmly at the heart of both.

The first part is a straightforward account of how the magazine developed over the 30 years since it was launched by Simon and his brothers from a bedroom at the family home in Jesmond.

Backed up with photos and illustrations on a screen, it’s the most entertaining PowerPoint presentation I’ve seen but is basically an autobiographical canter through his career to date.

In the second half he presents himself as five comic characters – comic being the operative word, as they could have leapt straight from the pages of Viz. This is where the laughs really begin.

First there’s Barry Twyford, a mildly effete market researcher whose diffident, apparently naive manner means he gets away with asking some of the filthiest questions you can imagine of women in the audience.

Earlier Donald had said that, as his aunt was present, he would be watching his language. You could have fooled me. This was so near the knuckle it left cuts. But it’s true about his aunt – she happened to be sitting next to me and laughed heartily throughout, so no harm done.

A quick, onstage change of costume and the next one up is name-dropping London wide boy, Rick Kestrel – plumber to the stars: Viz’s Cockney Wanker made flesh.

Then it’s the turn of Geordie thug Bingo from Benton. He could have been a member of Biffa Bacon’s family, and his regard for Metro Radio’s Alan Robson of Night Owls fame as a moral touchstone was inspired.

After him came Dominic Farqhuar, a Sloaney first-year medical student at Newcastle University (with more than a nod to Student Grant) and finally Jeremy Jitler, a charity worker desperate to find his way as a comedian.

Donald was, simply, brilliant in each role. His range of accents, voice modulation and body language was spot-on and he made the stereotypes believable – horribly so in the case of Bingo.

And there’s also something very engaging about the unvarnished Donald. He has the self-assurance, timing and professionalism of a successful stand-up without the swagger. He even apologised to the audience for staging a show on the night of England’s first match in the World Cup. I know I made the right viewing choice.

Incidentally, Ross Noble is also something of a fan, declaring Donald as Newcastle’s second-funniest man. Watch out, Ross – you’ve got competition.

Anne Graham