mr tom bell's Blog
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(Article for Rebel magazine)
I wrote this article for the Sartorial Gallery's "Rebel" magazine in March 2008 for their issue on Truth and Lies. Thought I'd reprint here as not many people would have known to look out for it. I actually wrote it in about an hour waiting for a plane back from Oslo, I've written better but still, hope you enjoy. For more info on Rebel check out: http://www.myspace.com/sartorialrebelmagazine
It's funny 'cause it's true - Discuss
A big part of what people admire about stand up comedy is its honesty. They'll will tell you "you're so brave!" because they "could never do that!" Just you on stage with a muttering of people judging not only your words and timbre, but your entire personality. I've been booed the moment I've walked on stage just for having slightly unruly hair. Not the most fun ever, so acts put up a barrier, they hide behind different names, different voices, they completely alter their personalities and what they wear. Honesty can be in short demand, but when it's real, it can be devastating.
Until recently it seemed I would need to take a stage name. I didn't want to, I liked my real name, crisp and short and the first thing my parents ever gave me. But they'd not done their research; there was already an actor called Tom Bell, a fine actor, often cruelly typecast as a paedophile or psychopath. Furthermore they criminally hadn't checked to see if Spotlight, the actor's directory (which apparently you have to be in to get those advert castings all your friends are getting), would take derivations of names. They don't. Not Tommy Bell, not Thomas Bell not Tom Bell Jr.
If I wanted to be in Spotlight (imagine the castings) I would need a stage name, but I knew I would feel dishonest on stage. And moreover, what would I change? Not my surname, my family name, a family who, despite their early oversight, had done a pretty good job with the subsequent parenting, but changing my first name seemed a ludicrous idea, people would start calling me Chris or Ben or Laura and I'd be irritated every time.
Another year of no castings I devised a plan, to use a stage name so ludicrous that it obviously wasn't my real name. That opened some doors: Noah Totteridge, Papa Hazzard, "The Curator", all came close, but all ultimately lost out to the one perfect stage name, lovingly and punishingly devised. My mind was pulsing, this was going to change the shape of my career forever. In a flurry of keyboard activity, my agent and I swapped e-mails, me asking if there was already a Flash Jackson in Spotlight, him to let me know that the actor Tom Bell had just died. It was an odd sensation that seeped from that e-mail. The death of a namesake, it transpires, can be surprisingly moving, and with it the knock-on, untimely death of Flash Jackson.
I'm glad. My comedy is far too meandering and piss-whimsical to ever fall comfortably from the mouth of a Flash. I sometimes wonder what Flash Jackson would be doing right now had he lived. Probably not the story-telling gig Tom Bell just did in a folk café in Olso. He'd be doing a corporate gig for an Oil Tycoon before a heady weekend run at Jongleurs Leicester. I bet he'd be good friends with John Barrowman and I bet he'd have nailed every one of the 4 advert castings he's had in the two years since joining Spotlight. Not like that Tom Bell.
And yet, the idea of comedians proclaiming the truth where others daren't is an endearing one. "Jesters do oft prove prophets" as Shakespeare wrote in King Lear. But truth, like so much stand up, can be cripplingly dull. Men and women are certainly different, cats and dogs often have amusingly anthropomorphic qualities and life as a black woman sure has its ups and downs, but it's dull. Particularly dreary are comedian's lives; an unending parade of tea and self doubt. The very craft of stand up can be made so false, phrases such as "I overheard someone in the interval say…" "I've never told this on stage before, but…" "Well, that was a new bit". Reader, they are lying to you.
I lied earlier. I didn't find out about the other Tom Bell's death in that exciting, dramatic manner. I had decided on Flash Jackson for months but done nothing about it, then I got a text from my friend Ed Weeks. Not only is it not a great story, it's not a story at all.
True honesty in stand up is rare. It doesn't come from pointing out things we'd all sort of noticed but hadn't been bothered to acknowledge until that point, like a bad magic eye puzzle, instead it comes when an act stops worrying about what people will think and opens up their heart. Daniel Kitson famously went on stage in Melbourne moments after a break up, ditched his show for that night and just spoke for hours about the relationship that had just ended. The lead singer of The Lucksmiths saw it and ended up writing a song about it. Amazing! Likewise, Stewart Lee's onstage response to the protests against "Jerry Springer The Opera" was to push blasphemy to the very limit. It could have been cheap but it wasn't, it was stunning and heartfelt and could only have happened in stand up.
That's what I, and a lot of other comics, aspire to do. At last year's Edinburgh Fringe I did my first solo show. It was going to be a loose collection of jokes, but after being booed off stage on my last gig of the year I spent that Christmas close to tears and, looking for some sort of solace, wrote a show where I interviewed genuine tapes of myself I made aged 7. In a happy ending, the show became a surprise hit, a surprise to me certainly. One of few moments I have truly been scared on stage was when my Dad first saw this show, but for the same reasons it was scary, it was also one of my favourite ever gigs. At the end my Dad jumped from his seat and cheered, proud, I hope, of his lazily named son, still rocking it for the Bells. -
Climate Change: The Irony Within
The hottest April on record, catastrophic droughts in Australia, bumble bees about 10% less bumbly. It sounds like something out of a Hollywood action movie starring Mark Wahlberg running at a blockbuster friendly 102 minutes long which receives decent if somewhat muted critical response and you can't help feeling has one eye on the dvd and rental market rather than the big screen.
But it's not; it's 2007, and it's real
Scientists now fear that climate change is so advanced that it has almost entirely finished its changing period and will soon emerge in whatever horrific form it will eventually take (probably some sort of angry, gaseous dragon or maybe a big, wet fist)
Now is the age of scientists, only they can save us. But as the country heats up, so its productivity dwindles. Even as you read this, scientists up and down the land who should be making heroes of themselves in hidden laboratories are instead playing frisbee, having barbeques and organising picnics. It would, they reason, be a shame to waste the nice weather. In fact such is the impact of increased frisbee use on science (an estimated drop of 32%) that the government is planning to have them banned and there are a growing number of voices calling for a more extreme ban on all forms of throwing and catching
This may seem an overreaction to what some see as a welcome warming to the gloomy British weather, but let us not be fooled. We must re-educate ourselves to view the sunshine as a child is taught to view the sweets of a stranger. Sure, we'd all like a Jelly Frog, but let's not get fucked in the process. The truth is, you wouldn't help a paedophile, but every time you don't recycle, that's exactly what you're doing. The sun is the worst ever paedophile and we're all helping him. Plus he also kills old people too, and is totally racist (just look at the poor Finnish!)
Luckily there are a few simple steps that we can all take that will help in the fight against the pissing sun
1. Eat more fish. Displacement theory tells us that the less fish there are in the sea, the lower sea levels will be. The bigger the better. To this end, whaling must be actively encouraged and grants should be given to countries willing to go and dig big holes at the bottom of the ocean
2. Stop burning tyres. We all like to have a warm garden, especially this time of year, but there are more efficient ways of doing it. In fact, residents in Greater London can currently benefit from a money back scheme on garden insulation which mostly involves a new house being built on your garden
3. Stop long-haul flights. Flying is not only one of the most polluting methods of travel, it's also the safest. If everybody went back onto dangerous sea journeys a lot of people will die and stop using up valuable resources. To this end swimming the oceans should also be encouraged. Of course, if the climate does continue to change, people will no longer want to travel to other countries anyway. Great news for carbon emissions, but some sort of cull will need to be set up to control population figures. My advice, make yourself invaluable to avoid a culling, eg become a sportsman or make hats for a living (see below)
4. Wear hats. 60% of body heat is lost through the head and consequently warming up the air around us. If we all wear hats, it is estimated that the mean temperature will drop by 0.5 centigrade. Doesn't sound like a lot, but try telling that to the farmers!
5. Stop leaving your car on standby. This actually uses 90% of the same energy as having your car on.
These are, of course, just the tip of the (melting) iceberg and most are just common sense.
But even still; bloody do them already! -
A Dragon Problem
Hello there.
In my research for my Edinburgh Show "The Lost Tapes of Tom Bell" (in which I interview tapes of myself I made when I was 7) I have uncovered a number of short stories I wrote at around the same time ('88 was a very good year for me creatively)
Here is one I wrote on Wednesday 27th April 1988. I hope you enjoy it. There is an added complication in the story whereby one of my best friends at the time was also called Tom (wasn't everyone?) so it's not just me confusing my authorial position towards the end. If anyone wants to talk to me about the film rights then do get in tough but I'll warn you, we're talking 6 figure sums here I feel.
A Dragon Problem
One night I went to bed and Mum let me read in bed and I chose my favourite story. When I had finished it I went to sleep.
I soon went to sleep, at the beginning of the dream there was an introduction. In the dream it had my old school friends. It started with a phone call
"Tom here, what's the matter? I'll see to it. Come on we've got a dragon problem."
I went down a secret passage and out in an underground cave, it was a long hall and there were doors everywhere. I went in door number 4 and climbed up some handles. Foot arm. Foot arm. When I got to the top I stood on a round platform. I holded on some handles with my hands
"away we go!" I said and pressed a button and then I pressed a long button. And then all the trees in the wood opened and me and my friends flew out to the town I said.
When we landed in town everybody had gone We heard a thud come closer and closer. The ground shaked, suddenly a lamp post started falling on one of my friends.
"Tom watch out!"
Tom broke it with his bare hands.
Quick the dragon. I started going round and round the dragon's feet. Then my friends joined in, some went around his arms
"Johnny do it, you too Tom"
"Come on Tom we've got work to do" said Johnny
Tom flew around his arms with Habib. Habib flew through the dragon's arms. The dragon shut his hands and Tom tied them together, Johnny did the same with Sam then I froze him
The End -
My Face, But On Celebrities
For anyone who ever doubted that these things work, check out my celebrity look alikes. When people on the street told me I looked like a Japanese Sienna Miller/Bob Dole hybrid I used to mock, but no longer, no longer...
(Oh yeah, and 50% the 54 year old author of Wild Swans, 49% the writing talent behind Take That. No wonder I'm so creative!)
Now, this is interesting, look, this next one is made from my face from just over two years ago. As you can see I have somewhat conclusively changed ethnicity once more. Here I am a Bollywood Bing Crosby/Ashley Olsen (though bizarrely not her idenitcal twin sister) hybrid. Actually I do look a bit like an Olsen there, but 64% William Shatner? If only!Some of you may also notice the only returning look alike is talented Czech footballer Pavel Nedved, but this time with a different photo of him, which I feel is a nice touch. Here is is smiling, which brings out his beautiful eyes
But probably best of all, this is a photo of me when I was, not sure, 8 I think. I had literally only one celebrity look alike. Pavel Nedved? Alas no. It is in fact... Anne Frank! Is Anne Frank technically a celebrity? Seems like the wrong term somehow.
(Actually, their database of "celebrities" is incredible, some of the names I have come across include popular philosopher Paul Ricoeur, classical Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos and arguably the 1930's best martial artist Morihei Ueshiba)
5:17 PM-
Post a comment...
- Sarah Bennetto5 years ago
You, pictured with another long-lost twin:
Please, you two gotta form a band. OR, serve as earnest delegate mavericks in the next series of UN crisis talks into the situation in Libya. Mmm, sexy, sexy Libya. - ally ally5 years ago
OMg ! Thats it !!Anne Frank !! I thought soo and I was RIGHT !! Who is Pavel wotsit ?
allyx
- emma kelly5 years ago
its not a celebrity, but there used to be a girl in my year who looked so much like her brother, all his friends used to call her "ross in a wig".
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Hot diggity. x
Mr Tom Bell should spend more time writing.