Make 'em Laugh

You may have heard us peddle out one of our favourite Laughter Lab adages a few times; that we often associate laughter with humour when the reality is we actually laugh more with those we love and like rather than those we find funny. We remember funny life episodes and times when we have had side-splitting laughs and this helps to create long-lasting memories. But what about those who make us laugh for a living? What is their connection to laughter? I was lucky enough to explore this topic with a couple of friends, both of whom make a living from being funny; stand-up comedian Richard Morton and comedian and broadcaster Fred MacAulay. 

Richard Morton

Richard Morton

I was interested to understand the emotions they experienced from making other’s laugh, something that we all do from time to time. At Laughter Lab we extol the virtues of laughing and sharing laughter with others – but what impact does generating laughter in others have on those that do it?  

‘Making people laugh professionally is sometimes quite functional as you are performing material that you know well in order to be funny,’ explains Rich, ‘and so you expect the laughter in return in all the right places. Of course, it’s very gratifying to get laughs on stage even when it’s for jokes you’ve done before, but especially exciting when you ad-lib a line and it gets a big laugh.’  

Like many of us, Fred can remember his first day in the job. ‘Thirty years into my career I can still remember the first laugh I got. And I suspect every comedian does too.’ So, how does making others laugh feel? ‘It depends entirely on the ‘laughter’. If it’s a new joke, any degree of laughter is welcome. If it’s an old joke then the degree of laughter is critical. If the laughter is the same as before, then that’s satisfying.  Less than normal and it’s annoying. More than normal and it’s encouraging.’ 

Did this mean that generating laughter is a perfunctory experience for them – a bit like how the rest of us might feel in our day-to-day jobs? Rich shares that what he feels is much more and that he experiences feelings he describes as elation, exhilaration and euphoria as well as a general sense of ‘wellbeing’ from making others laugh. Fred too shares the experience of euphoria when a joke has landed really well alongside a sense of relief at a job well done. So, when comedy is your job – how does it feel watching other comedians perform – do they laugh at each other, or is there an undercurrent of professional competition? ‘When I laugh at other comedian’s material, I’m often listening to the joke unfold in quite an analytical way. Force of habit I think,’ Rich says, ‘I will be dissecting the joke as its being told because the analysis and understanding of humour is part of my job. I’m always delighted if the punchline takes me somewhere unexpected, as most people are when they laugh at something. Usually, if I laugh at other comedians, my reaction will be one of approval at being suitably impressed with their material. I like it when people make me laugh.’ Fred explains, ‘As a comedian, I always analyse the material or circumstance which has made me laugh’. Personally, I think this forensic look at humour doesn’t creep into their personal lives – both men are as funny offstage as on it - and Fred explains that making people laugh socially feels slightly different to his work, but that the expectation to be funny is often there, ‘I do wonder if even if it’s just a social situation, that the others see me as the ‘pro’ and that any laughs I get are just me doing my job.’ 

Rich is also a talented musician and I asked how comedy compared to entertaining an audience with music and wondered how different the performing experience was between entertaining using these two powerful and evocative methods. Rich explains that he finds comedy a more reciprocal relationship with an audience, generating a greater human connection, which is something backed up by scientific research. Fred makes a similar observation about the impact of creating laughter in others, ‘It’s unique. It’s what separates comedians from other performers. It’s the immediacy of response. And that means that there’s no hiding place for the performer. Having said that, the only other kind of performance I’ve done which isn’t looking for laugher is singing. Applause at the end of that is satisfying, but it’s not the same as the applause which follows laughter.’ 

Back in the late eighties and early nineties new intimate and irreverent comedy clubs  emerged and comedy became cool. Both Rich and Fred established themselves as key figures in comedy at this time, alongside the likes of Eddie Izzard, Jo Brand and Jack Dee. Going out for a good laugh was as popular as going to see a band and these comedians took on popstar status. Thanks to these bold performers, there are many established clubs everywhere in the UK, with emerging talent coming through thick and fast – catering for all humour tastes. As lockdown eases and we get the opportunities to spend time with others and experience entertainment once again, look out for local comedy clubs and re-connect with friends sharing the power of laughter. 

 Jane

Anna Hatchard