The Ayahuasca Diaries

A few years ago I was doing stand-up on a nightly basis. Being on the bottom rung meant turning up early to secure a spot. The best way to wile away the hours was to talk to other comedians. Sometimes this was lovely, other times it was not. Comedians by their very nature are egotistical shitheads, deeming their thoughts worthy of amplification. At open mic level it’s easy to forget sometimes you’re a small fish in a big pond. When a gig goes well you feel like the most popular kid in school. For comics who were picked last at school, this can induce feelings of euphoria and delusion. Delusion because although for that moment you may feel like the best kid in the town, in reality you’re a drop in the ocean, small fry against TV's whale sharks. A lot of right-thinking acts are aware of this. Some less so.

The whale sharks of comedy.

Home Counties born, Doug Stanhope bred, this clique of deluded comics were from a school of thought that thought ridiculing struggling amateurs made them in someway counter-culture. Often these big-I-am comics were successful on stage because they had the coked-up self-confidence of Canary Wharf, only with material that spoke Shoreditch Anarchist: “Aren’t bankers wankers?” Yes, I’m being reductive here. These comics were all more talented than me, but my view of them will forever be clouded by the arrogance they wore off stage as well as on.

The people that I always liked spending time with before a gig were comics that were from the British tradition of stand-up. People that didn’t attack topics head-on, but took a sideways glance at them. Comedy is suited to broad brush strokes because audiences enjoy hearing certainty during chaotic times. On the other hand, I've always appreciated comics that mirror the uncertainty of their audience. None of us have a clue of what’s going on, what it’s for and what it all means, so why should performers pretend they do.

One of my favourite acts to socialise with and watch was Benji Waterstones. Benji was my contemporary at the time, but was always better than me. Where he got to the So You Think You’re Funny final, I got to the semi-final. Where he got to the Leicester Square New Act final, I got to the quarter-final. Where he won the Manchester Beat The Frog competition, I now spend my days dissecting them. (EB White: 'Analysing humour is a lot like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested in it and the frog dies.') I’m delighted that his career has gone from strength to strength, with this past year seeing him selected to spearhead the Edinburgh AAA, a showcase for emerging talent. He’s also written his first solo show, The Ayahuasca Diaries, which he premiered at Edinburgh this year. All in all, Benji’s career is on the up and up. (Did you notice I used strength to strength, all in all and up and up within a few lines of one another? I’m the Andy Warhol of writing: doing something interesting with the cliché. And to think you don’t even have to pay to read this blog. You lucky things.)

Benji beating the frog, whatever that means.

I didn’t go to Edinburgh this year because I bought a house (The Girl’s money too, some inheritance as well, the bank contributed 80%, but essentially I bought a house), which meant I didn’t have the money to watch comedy in the summer like I normally do. I was therefore relieved when he sent a notification saying that he was bringing his show to London. (This always sounds impressive, but given he lives in London and just has to carry his laptop to the pub, I feel this utterance is nothing more than showbiz hyperbole.) Using brackets is a really bad habit of my blog writing and I apologise if the last few paragraphs have felt stifled by them. I promise not to use any more for the duration of the piece.

 So this is why I find myself at The Bill Murray pub on a Thursday night. Before I get onto Benji’s show, I should just add that the venue is something of a marvel. Funded by a Kickstarter campaign, impresario Barry Fearns has created something truly special. Purpose built for comedy, open seven days a week, it is quickly becoming the go to place for London comedy. With an artistic façade featuring Robin Williams, Eddie Izzard and Victoria Wood, the establishment is becoming a Mecca for comedy fans. The fact that most shows are free-on-entry (put something in the bucket though- you’ve got to give me a pass on that bracket, because that was a selfless one, as opposed to the self-serving ones of earlier) means that anyone can go, irrespective of what they earn. Benji’s show is on the backroom and three more will take place that night, meaning the turnaround is quite tight: we must score quick laughs in the craic den before the fuzz turns us out.

It's free and brilliant.

The Ayahuasca Diaries is based around Benji’s odyssey to Peru, where he hoped to find some kind of enlightenment. A psychiatrist by profession, Benji’s stock in trade is mental health. This stand-up show is therefore something of a busman’s holiday, as he inquires whether ayahuasca, a Peruvian hallucinogenic, can really alleviate symptoms of depression. The tale begins with Benji introducing his self-effacing personality. These self-deprecatory jokes are important: in the wrong hands, any comedy on drug-taking can feel a bit try hard, an exercise in “Aren’t I dangerous?” With Benji though it feels like he’s scratching a professional itch: can this drug really be the answer to mental health? Should I be referring my patients to Peru, as opposed to western pharmacies? More than that, Benji was going though a difficult time in his own life: lonely in love and London, the anxiety he felt as a younger man was exacerbated by 21^st century life. A shrink searching for a solution to his own mental health is the premise then for this stand-up show, a piece of situational irony handed to him by the comedy Gods. Benji doesn’t let his good blurb goes to waste: he runs with it, eliciting great laughs along the way.

For a first show it’s expertly structured. Like I said the opening establishes Benji as a mild-mannered, lovelorn NHS worker. How couldn’t you root for someone with that description? The middle is smart too: because in telling the story of his trip to Peru, Benji manages to work in tried and tested jokes using his diary framework. Before going on his literal drug trip, Benji was told by the Peruvian go-between that he must write a diary, outlining his past problems and phobias. This gives him a washing line to hang his old material on. It’s a clever move in a debut show as it means he’s got solid gold routines in the middle. A routine about the FAQ’s of a Tesco Clubcard is particularly funny, so too being kept on hold by the Utterly Butterly helpline. When we get onto the trip to Peru, Benji brings in his holiday snaps, which prove as enlightening as the drug itself.

The promotional poster for the show.

For me, this end material really showcased Benji’s skill as a craftsman. Here, he manages to blend great jokes (I met my shamam Willow. She talked a lot about energies, which the doctor in me was skeptical about until she told me ... I had good energy), comments on photos (a girl rivalling Bez in the gurning stakes is described as ‘a returning guest’) and trippy visuals (the best way of describing Benji’s drug trip reconstruction is to imagine Alan Bennett in an Aphex Twin video). The use of short film to accompany stand-up material reminded me of Tim Key, a comparison I’m sure Benji won’t mind me making. The coda of the show is wonderfully feel-good too. It brought to mind a really wonderful documentary where you’re relieved to see everything has worked out ok for the participants.

I know I could be accused of bias for writing about a friend, but I’m completely sincere in saying how impressed I was. Morrissey once sang, “We hate it when our friends become successful and if they’re northern, it makes it even worse.” I don’t mind that Hull born Benji is heading for success. He might be a better comic than me. But he'll never be able to use brackets like me. I'll always have that. :)

Follow Benji @its_benji. Here's his website too: http://www.benjiwaterstones.com