I didn't make it down for the start of the festival, which began on Wednesday, arriving instead midafternoon on Thursday (Wednesday's events didn't justify paying the extra night's hotel bill). After checking into the hotel, I made the short walk to the Watershed to collect my Festival Pass lanyard, though I was less successful picking up my Bristol Beacon tickets, as their box office was shut for the day due to an event.
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| Louise Fazenda: Queen of Slapstick |
The next event took place in a side room rather than the cinema. Essentially a Laurel & Hardy fan film documenting their connection to Yorkshire, with the filmmaker interviewing Laurel's distant relatives, visiting the theatres where the double act played, and speaking with the curator of the Laurel and Hardy Museum and members of the fan club.
Dean Sills, the filmmaker, was present to discuss his film in his thick Barnsley accent. I got the sense that he'd rather the film spoke for itself. This wasn't a must-see event; it was aimed more at the niche Laurel and Hardy fan scene. Without my festival pass, I'd have skipped it.
For the shorts, Harry Hill was joined by his occasional collaborator Sean Foley. Harry had chosen Towed in the Hole and Helpmates as his two favourites, but it became obvious he hadn't done much prep for the event, relying on his comedy banter to entertain the crowd rather than conveying any original insights into the double act. He selected Sons of the Desert as his favourite feature. I had no recollection of ever seeing it before.
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| Back from the dead |
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| Sean and Harry |
The Aquarium Megascreen organisation was a bit haphazard. I ended up near the back of the queue, then overheard that they were using both sets of stairs, so I turned around and stood almost at the front of what became the other queue.
FRIDAY
I skipped the first event of the day, "The Flapper" starring Olive Thomas. I didn't fancy the 9.30 am start. Instead, I had a leisurely breakfast, bought tickets to Horse at the Bungalow, edited more of my novel (yes, still editing) and wandered into the centre to buy a Boots meal deal for lunch. On the way to the Watershed, I stopped off at the Beacon to pick up my event tickets for that venue. To my surprise, the specific seats hadn't been pre-selected, so I got to choose where I wanted to sit from the reserved area. They also printed paper copies, which are always good souvenirs, and emailed me the electronic versions.
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| Before & After Laurel & Hardy |
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| Buster Keaton: Our Hospitality |
I went for a walk before this event to locate St George's, the venue for most of Sunday's events, but the rain became heavy, so I aborted the mission (I hadn't brought an umbrella or a waterproof hat). It was then that I felt loneliest, unfamiliar with my surroundings, killing time wandering with no one to talk to. Drenched, I returned to the Watershed somewhat weary. As usual, I stuffed my beanie hat into my jacket pocket, not wanting to risk losing it.
Once again, I found myself afflicted with long blinks, occasionally missing moments of the film as my mind wandered. From what I saw, it's easy to admire Keaton's comedic eye and timing. Some aspects of the film were inspired, but not sufficient to wow me.
Afterwards, our host, Polly Rose, held a live Zoom call with Keaton's granddaughter, now a pensioner. She lives in California, so she had to get up really early to join us. It was funny to think the baby we'd just watched in the film was actually her dad.
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| The Likely Lads at 60 |
I was looking forward to this next panel, as I love the comic writing of Dick Clement and Ian le Frenais. Much to my disappointment, they were not present. Instead, our host interviewed them during a video call earlier in the week. The chat was still interesting, and the clips shown from both The Likely Lads and Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads demonstrated how sharp their scripts were. Their mantra: Comedy must come from character, not from jokes, to elicit bigger laughs.
I couldn't decide between a solo dinner at the Hotel's Beefeater or a trip to McDonald's, but ended up pausing outside a busy Chinese restaurant, which appeared to have a few tables spare. The menu prices looked okay, and there was an award in the window for Best Deliveroo Chinese Restaurant 2025, so my taste buds decided I should dine there instead.
Oddly, they sat me at a table for twelve, leaving a space between the other solo patron and me. The empty tables I'd seen from outside were all reserved, so all the walk-ins ended up at this table. It was funny listening to the others summon a waitress to ask for cutlery instead of using the chopsticks provided. The food was delicious, but I managed to get some sweet-and-sour sauce on my fingers. On the way to the gala, I discovered the sweets in my jacket pocket had become wet and sticky. My pocket was soaking. Disaster! And now my fingers were even stickier. I couldn't sit through an evening of silent films in this condition. With time already tight, I returned to the hotel to wash up. Best decision ever. And I realised the reason my pocket was wet: I'd stuffed my soaking hat in there after the afternoon downpour. Idiot.
I still managed to arrive on time at the Beacon and swiftly made my way to my seat without interrupting too many seated individuals. The event was great. Stephen Mangan hosted, displaying his usual charm and wit. All three silent films were excellent: Laurel & Hardy's Leave Em Laughing, Buster Keaton's The Boat (with Rick Wakeman accompanying effortlessly on piano as he watched along), and Charlie Chaplin's The Kid. I'd never seen any of these films before and enjoyed them all. I even stayed awake for every frame, despite my full stomach.
A local choir treated us to their rendition of Charlie Chaplin's song "Smile". The biggest thrill, however, was seeing the world premiere of "Joke", a short film of sketches based on Barry Cryer's best jokes. The acting talent was incredible, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I knew many of the punchlines.
Fun fact: Rick Wakeman used to be Charlie Chaplin's neighbour when they both lived in Switzerland. Rick enthused over how lovely Charlie was as a person.
My only issue during the event was the gentleman sitting beside me. I could forgive him for humming off-pitch during "Smile". I could put up with his nose sounding like he was breathing through taffeta paper whenever he sniffed. But when he reached into his bag and pulled out a packet of crisps, that was a step too far. Who crunches crisps during a silent movie screening? And they were Cheese N Onion. Boak!
Saturday
I skipped the first event of the day, a showing of Yasujiro Ozu's early silent comedy, Where Now are the Dreams of Youth? It held no appeal to me.
Once I found myself in the right location, the organisation for the event from the Beacon side seemed chaotic. None of us knew if both doors to the Lantern Hall would be used or where we should queue. The corridor was already packed by the time I arrived.
Then, after our ticket was scanned, we had to wait for a pointless wristband for no apparent reason (we didn't get one for any other event at the venue afterwards). Was it an extra souvenir, or did they just not know what they were doing?
I had a seat in the second row for all today's events. Not the same one, but close. And it was here that I finally managed to strike up a conversation with another attendee. He had sat in the front row but noticed the seats had numbers and asked me if I had a specific seat assigned to me. I showed him my ticket, pointing to the seat number, and he realised he should be sitting next to me. From there, we chatted about various festival topics and shared our opinions on how things were going until the lights dimmed.
Comedy historian Robert Ross interviewed Rick for this event, where Rick picked his favourite musical comedy pieces: Frankie Howerd & June Whitfield, Victoria Wood, Les Dawson, Bernard Cribbins, Mel Smith (Not the Nine O'clock News), Spike Milligan, The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and Arthur Mullard & Hylda Baker, none of which had been listed in the Festival brochure. Rick explained why he had chosen them, usually with a showbiz story about how he'd encountered the people involved, through personal or professional friendships, or not, if it was just a song he liked. Robert Ross was very good at providing background info, some of which Rick hadn't known.
I had hoped the attendee I'd been talking to might have been interested in getting some food, but he said his goodbyes and we parted ways.
After nipping to Greggs for a sausage roll, which I ate under the overhang of the opposite building to stay out of the rain, I returned to the venue. On the way up the stairs, I recognised the gentleman behind me and asked him if he'd been to see Adele Cliff at the Edinburgh Fringe two years ago. He looked suspiciously at me, but confirmed that he had. I explained that I'd noticed him at Slapstick two years ago (not mentioning that his long hair had blocked my view of Sylvester McCoy for the entire event) and later in Edinburgh, but had never spoken to him. We then spent the rest of the wait chatting about all things comedy, discovering he was as big a comedy geek as I am.
He explained that the next show was really a kids' show, which is why there were so many noisy children present with their parents.
The stage housed the thirty-piece City of Bristol Brass Band, which would accompany only one of the two films being shown: Buster Keaton's One Week, as there were difficulties with the print of Wallace and Gromit: The Wrong Trousers.
The band were very good. I even learned they don't use regular trumpets as you'd expect, favouring the piccolo version for its sweeter sound. Unfortunately, their presence so close to the front of the stage hindered my view of the lower part of the screen.
Alexei Sayle was a favourite of mine back in the day, especially his tv work. The material was surreal, political, blasphemous, and, most of all, hilarious. I hadn't seen any clips from the series in years (it ran from 1988-91), and I loved the ones they picked to show today. Alexei was blessed to share writing duties with the amazing talents of David Renwick and Andrew Marshall, and bemoaned that they left him to move on to bigger things, yet never offered him cameos in their hit shows.
The chat sections with interviewer Robin Ince were funny, too. Although neither had watched any of the clips in advance, and introduced them only by their length, you could tell Robin really appreciated Alexei's work. They had a great time on stage together.
This event sold out quickly, so fast in fact I ended up buying the Festival Pass that the only way I could get in was to buy the Full Festival Pass to attend. Lee is a sharp, naturally funny guy, a bit like Eric Morecambe in his swift comebacks, so this was always going to be good. I was surprised when a woman came out to introduce him, especially as the ticket said it would be Matthew Sweet. I had to ask Nick who she was, as she didn't say her name: Alex Lovell, a television presenter on ITV West Country.
He talked about the various iterations of the show and how it evolved. He's still not sure exactly why Tim Vine, one of his best mates, chose to leave the programme, suggesting Tim preferred to pursue his own comedic path. They're still buddies.
There was barely time to mention all the great actors in the show, but they did talk about Bobby Ball's inclusion as Lee's Dad. Bobby was so well-liked that he could get away with not learning his lines beforehand and would often hold court in the pub after the recording, performing his comedy routines for everyone.
At the very end, a gentleman at the front hijacked the Q&A to ask a different kind of question: a marriage proposal. Lee was mock aggrieved, complaining that the whole event was supposed to be about him. The couple were brought up onto the stage to receive a round of applause (and a bunch of flowers, which Lee joked had come from the local petrol station).
I skipped the final event of the day, the feature film "One Cut of the Dead", electing to save my arse from further assault from the Lantern Hall's seating. Nick was heading back to his hotel, so I went back to mine, too. I was glad I did, as the Saturday nightlife was already turning fractious: as I arrived at the hotel, one guy did a number on one of the public electric scooters, because it was in his way (when I say a number, I don't mean a one or a two; I mean the vehicle took a kicking).
Returning early meant getting to update this blog at a reasonable hour.
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| No idea if it's any good. |
Sunday
I was up early for breakfast in order to catch the first event of the day, Laurel and Hardy's last film, Atoll K, showing at the Watershed at 9.30 am. Having skipped dinner the night before, I was surprised when my stomach reprised its contents into my throat, disgusted at being filled on three consecutive days with overcooked Beefeater breakfasts. I kept my fingers crossed that I wouldn't follow through during the upcoming film in case the audience thought it was a criticism of the movie, which, to be fair, was not great.
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| Laurel & Hardy: Atoll K (1951) |
Robert Ross and the Festival Director, Chris Daniels, introduced the film and discussed its troubled production. Stan and Olly hadn't made a movie in years, and this was intended as their big-screen comeback. That didn't happen, despite being rereleased several times under different titles.
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| Chris and Rob |
As a European co-production, it didn't feel like a typical Laurel & Hardy vehicle, perhaps because it came later. Laurel looked gaunt, and their chemistry was diluted rather than enhanced by the other cast members. As a satire of world politics, it ticked some boxes, so not a complete waste of time.
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| St George's |
Adams Hills interviewed Sanjeev Bhaskar about what he loved about Laurel & Hardy. Sanjeev picked clips from A Chump at Oxford (1940), Blotto (1930) and the classic The Music Box (1932). It was interesting to watch the two comic minds in tune with one another, from the moment Adam came on stage, Sanjeev silently walked around behind him, something they'd cooked up as they waited backstage.
I was too engrossed to make notes, but I found the talk informative and entertaining. And it was glorious to see The Music Box again. I'd forgotten the punchline.
Sanjeev had an interesting insight in that he believed Wallace & Gromit were today's Laurel & Hardy: sight gags, outlandish ideas, buddy chemistry, both funny in their own way.
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| Some great comedy insights from the pair. |
Next up, we shifted over to the Glass Studio for Robert Ross's discussion of his book, Seriously Silly, about the life of Terry Jones. Robert knew his stuff, not nicknamed the comedians' historian for nothing. He was a longtime friend of the Python, spending a lot of time in his company both at Terry's home and at various pubs. He got emotional when discussing the ending (spoiler: Terry dies). Robert's wife conducted the interview, and I loved how supportive she was of him and how she asked interesting questions. The room was not ideal for the number of people, as it was long and thin. When Sanjeev joined the pair to discuss his relationship with Terry J, I couldn't see him because his chair was obscured by the two people in front of me. Imagine how bad the view was further back.
Sanjeev had met Terry after accepting the role of King Arthur in Spamalot, though, at that time, was unaware of Terry's dislike for the musical. Terry was kind enough to give him notes on playing the character as envisioned in the film. Their friendship grew from there, and Sanjeev later appeared in Terry's film Absolutely Anything. Sanjeev could only stay a short time as he was filming later and had a car coming for him. Unfortunately, he left his phone on silent and missed his alarm, so he really had to rush away.
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| Seriously Silly: A Celebration of Terry Jones |
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| Rob and his wife, Gemma |
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| Joined by Sanjeev (photo captured by holding the camera out into the aisle) |
There was an hour's gap before the next event, so I wandered up the road to find somewhere for dinner, eventually choosing The Berkeley, a Westerspoons pub. Inside, I spotted Nick at a table and joined him, chatting while we ate. I had a BBQ stack burger and managed to drip the sauce on my fingers. The meal had taken a while to arrive, longer to eat, so there wasn't time to wash my hands before the next event.
Journalist Samira Ahmed interviewed Armando for the next section, professionally covering his career and having him set up the clips, timing the event to perfection. We saw excerpts from The Day Today, The Armando Iannucci Show, The Death of Stalin, The Thick of It and Veep. Whenever I clapped, I became conscious that my hands still smelled of BBQ sauce, so during the applause breaks, I instead elected to slap my thigh. At all other times, I hid my hands beneath the curl of my jacket. 
At the end of this event, Chris Daniels (Festival Director) and Bob Crier (son of Barry Crier) presented Armando with the inaugural Golden Baz award.
Adam brought:
His first prosthetic leg, which came with an attached athletic shoe, so he always had to wear a white trainer on the other foot to match.
A tennis sweatband, which Boris Becker had given him. Adam had been a ball boy in Sydney. This led to an Ivan Lendl/Pat Cash anecdote about having to remove non-existent sawdust from the court, after Lendl messed with him.
His red-and-green toy rabbit, which his father had given him as a baby, led to a story about Disability Rugby League.
His passport, leading to a bit about singing national anthems to the tunes of other songs, e.g. the German anthem to 99 Red Balloons and the Canadian anthem to Bryan Adams' Summer of '69, which he then performed for us, complete with backing track.
Mike's items:
A Nikon camera that his brother Paul had gifted him, leading to an anecdote about how Mike wrote the Cadbury Roses advert song, "Thank you very much."
His British Empire medal, introducing stories about Queen Elizabeth;
A bottle of Lydia Pinkum's medicinal compound, as per the Lily the Pink song by The Scaffold. The medicine was actually marketed to women to treat menopause and menstrual problems. He once showed Martha Reeves the bottle, and she remembered receiving the medicine as a teen.
The item I found most interesting was a tiny box, called the "Box of Smile". Mike explained it had been a gift from John Lennon, and when you opened it and looked inside, you realised it contained a mirror, which instinctively brought a smile to your face, hence the box of smile. Clever!
About halfway through the film, a bearded man wandered in carrying his worldly possessions in a backpack and sat in the middle of the front row. The smell coming from him was enough to make the man sitting behind him leave. I had to suck mints to stop me boaking. The man left immediately as the credits started, before the cinema lights came on, so I never got a proper look at him. He wasn't the beggar outside the cinema asking everyone for a pound.
That was my trip to Bristol to the Slapstick Festival. I made a new acquaintance and loved seeing Alexei Sayle, Lee Mack, and Armando Iannucci. Roll on next year's event.
Festival Pass: £250 plus £5 booking fee = £255 on the festival website (I missed the Early Bird offer, which would have cost £225 plus bf).
