FESTIVAL COMEDY | Jim Tavaré ‘JUST GOING ON STAGE CAN HELP DEPRESSION’

Dying in front of an audience means little to Jim Tavaré after he almost perished for real in 2017. Jay Richardson talks to this returning 90s Fringe star who numbers a possible future monarch among his fans

L ying in his car, with a broken neck, 15 broken ribs, punctured lung g e and a hand detached from the wrist, surveying an exposed bone sticking through his leg, Jim Tavaré pondered ‘is there a show in this?’ He chuckles at the memory, one of only a few he retains

from the crash in March last year that almost killed him.

‘Isn’t it weird?’ the Los Angeles-based British stand-up marvels. ‘Comics have a simplistic way of looking at everything as a joke. It’s what we do isn’t it? Looking at life that way, you miss out on some important things but it’s certainly a great survival mechanism. Just going on stage can help depression.’ After last appearing at the Fringe 20 years ago, Tavaré recalls with pleasure how he persuaded Ronnie Corbett to stand in for him one night in 1996. The 55-year-old had no plans to return though, with ‘Edinburgh the farthest thing from my mind’. He’d made his name as a circuit comic with gags around his trademark double bass, before co-writing The Jim Tavaré Show on Channel 5 with Ricky Gervais and starring in ITV’s The Sketch Show with Lee Mack, Tim Vine and Ronni Ancona. In 2008, he became the i rst non-US act to reach the i nal of TV talent contest Last Comic Standing, s i nishing fourth, prompting a move Stateside the following year where he’s since developed a successful career as a character actor.

ked ‘You get known for your skillset in Hollywood,’ rel ects Tavaré, who booked eeper an entire US college tour off the (hunched) back of being Tom the Innkeeper t good- in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. ‘“This guy’s scary, he’s not good- many things looking”. Lately, I’ve been playing up the Englishness again. There are so many things y won’t know.’ to draw on. You can walk into an audition and tell them you’re Scottish. They won’t know.’ In hospital, he was told he’d never play the double bass again. Of far greater concern reater concern was the fate of Mr Kippy. His dog was also in the crash but emerged unscathed to bite cathed to bite and US raising the paramedics. Comedy rallied round Tavaré, with benei t gigs in the UK and US raising to contemplate funds for his medical bills. Recording a short video for one, he began to contemplate forcing myself addressing his experience more fully. ‘I probably did three gigs in LA, forcing myself 58 THE LIST FESTIVAL 1–8 Aug 2018