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Toff tales >> Sir Bernard Chumley and Friends get into character
by MIREILLE SILCOTT
Lucas speaks with that bored, new-classless-Brit accent, where every sentence ends with a question. He went to university. He has a mobile phone. He's probably middle class. I'm sure he wears loafers and lives in some newly gentrified part of London. His kitchen is probably renovated. He's regular, nice. He's no good material. "I can't go onstage and be me," he says. "Like, 'Hello, I'm Matt!' It would be extremely boring." Chumley isn't boring. He's a chain-smoking aristocrat, a real "mad toff," who swears a lot. He's not a mere actor but a thespian and a skilled raconteur, full of tales of his distinguished past. He lives in a stately home. His money's probably run out, but he'll never admit it. He's cranky and Oscar Wildey and was probably debauched way back by some weedy headmaster in public school. A dandy, he wails at people in the audience for wearing improper footwear. He's self-important and self-absorbed and mean to his stage manager (sidekick David Walliams). But his unhinged (and truly hysterical) festival shows in the U.K., which have included a profanity-spewing bearded organist wearing a dress and "Eric Estrada" reborn as a porn star, have been selling out in the past few years. Just for Laughs is also betting on Chumley, appearing with his cohorts in the intimate 'n' often-interactive Fringe series, as this year's surprise hit. Lucas, known in the U.K. for appearances the BBC's Shooting Stars , won't let Chumley out of the closet for an interview. "I'm still toning him down a bit for the North American audience," he says. "I don't want him scaring people off just yet."
Sir Bernard Chumley and Friends, at MAI, Wednesday, July 21 to Sunday, July 25, $10+t/s, 790-HAHA for showtimes |
I've always thought that somebody putting on a wacky outfit and pretending to be somebody they are not is funnier than some shmo standing on a stage in leather pants talking about why he hates flying. I prefer comedians wearing a dumb-ass wig over those who sit on spot-lit bar stools and talk about their mothers. I hate Yuk Yuk's-style the-funniest-thing-happened-to-me-on-the-way-to comedy. I like character comedy, because fake people are always 10 times funnier than real people. So Mike Myers has nothing on Austin Powers and Matt Lucas has nothing on his alter ego, Sir Bernard Chumley.