Julian Clary Interview

Following the overwhelming demand for the sold out spring run in the UK of his new stand up show, ‘The Joy Of Mincing’ Julien Clary heads downunder this September to bring the show to Sydney, Melbourne and Perth. ‘The Joy Of Mincing’ celebrates Julian’s 30 years as a camp comedian so we found out more about what to expect and what he’s been up to.

Why have you named your tour, ‘The Joy of Mincing’?
I always like to get ‘mincing’ into the title. We’ve had ‘Lord of the Mince’; ‘Natural Born Mincer’; and ‘Mincing Machine’ was my first tour in 1989. I don’t know why; it sets the tone, doesn’t it? I suppose mincing, apart from being a means of walking around, is a way of life. ‘The Joy of Mincing’ is a declaration of the joy of life despite disapproval, perhaps.

Do you still feel people disapprove?
Well, exactly. I think there probably is some [disapproval]. And mincing, which is an old fashioned word, was probably in its day born out of standing up in the face of that disapproval.

Is the show as rude as ever – or have you toned things down?
No, I don’t think so. It’s the one time you can let rip a bit, on stage. I don’t want to be filthy for the sake of it, but I think it’s a comic device. You just exaggerate who you really are on stage. I’m quite fond of moments of vulgarity.

You’ve been performing for 30 years. How has comedy changed during that time?
Yes, it’s my 30th anniversary this year. It’s changed beyond all recognition. It used to be an eclectic selection of people in small rooms above pubs, in the 1980s. Our comedy was a reaction against the right-wing men in bow-ties who were being offered as light entertainment in those days.

And has your comedy changed since then?
Yes, a bit. I think you evolve, whether you want to or not. There was a certain amount of anger and delight in confronting people when I started, which has more or less gone now. Making people laugh is my main aim in life these days. I don’t think there’s so much to be angry about now.

Do you have fans whom have been following your career for that full 30 years?
There are, and they bring their children along now. I’m very fond of them, you know. You don’t know their names necessarily, but it’s always a joy to see a familiar face. There’s a delightful family from Tunbridge Wells I’ve known since the boy was 13 and now he’s a grown-up. It’s charming. We talk about the old days at the Hackney Empire, or our aches and pains. There’s a connection there, even though we don’t really know each other, because on one level we do.

What sort of stories will you be telling on this tour?
Well, there’s a rather long story about how I once saved Joan Collins’ life in a swimming pool in St Tropez. It’s a true story, which I won’t give away now, but it’s a long, meandering tale that fills the first half. Then the second half is about MBEs. I’ve noticed a lot of my friends in the business are getting these awards. They’re handing them out like Smarties. I think, ‘Ooh, I’d like one of those’, but it’s never happened so I’m obviously not favoured by the Establishment. I can only blame myself… So during the show, I give myself one and call it ‘Mincer of the British Empire’. I’m making lots of these MBEs and handing them out to people in the audience. Just the lucky few, you understand: it’s not included in the ticket price. I’m always looking for an excuse to talk to the audience. That’s what keeps me going. You can get bored if you’re just reeling off the same old nonsense. I’m always very interested in the audience and their stories. People are very funny; they never fail to amuse.

I assume that if you were offered an MBE in real life, you would accept?
I’d bite their hands off! I think I’ve been too rude about the Royal Family over the years, unfortunately. I’m probably on some kind of black list somewhere.

What do you think of Kate Middleton, the new one?
Well, she’s very fertile, isn’t she? What more can one say? She’s got lovely hair.

What was your worst ever gig?
It was in Chatham, in Kent. I don’t know what was wrong with them, but nobody laughed for two hours. I was seething. I refused to ever go back. If you search through all of my novels, I’m rude about Chatham in all of them. It clearly scarred me for life, and I’m still seeking revenge. My children’s books are translated into twelve different languages and I’m refusing to change the name of Chatham in any of them. They will know, even in Brazil, the horrible truth that Chatham is not a town where they laugh at Julian Clary.

Your personal life seems to have changed as much as your career – you’ve turned your back on partying and now live an idyllic rural lifestyle in a village in Kent, is that right?
Yes. Well that’s what I’m telling you anyway. I think there’s nothing drearier than a 5- year-old homosexual hanging around Soho in lycra. Mercifully, one grows out of that. Thank goodness.

You don’t miss those days, at all?
Absolutely not. You’d have to pay a lot of money to get me into a nightclub, sniffing and snorting and dragging some trollop home with me. Yuck. I like to keep myself nice these days.

What’s happened to the old outfits?
I’ve still got them, though goodness knows what I’ll ever do with them. I might bring some of them on the tour, as it’s my 30-year anniversary. A kind of retrospective fashion show. I used to look at all these drawings of rubber outfits covered in feathers and think, ‘My goodness, that’s outrageous, I couldn’t possibly’. But that was part of the fun.

Are you never tempted to wear them again?
Don’t be silly. I sniff them sometimes. Just for old times’ sake. Scent is very evocative isn’t it? A lung full of my old diamante jockstrap and I’m immediately transported back to the London Palladium in 1993.

Do you ever wear make-up anymore?
Only on tour. I like the glittery lips and all of that. Not for television. I think on high definition; it looks a bit peculiar.

How do you feel about ageing – do you enjoy it?
It’s not on the top of my list of enjoyable things, no. Although I am thrilled with my grey hair. I’ve turned from a fluffy chicken into a silver fox. It’s very interesting: when you’re young, there are all these things you want to achieve. Then when you get to your 50s you’ve either done them or you haven’t, so the physical deterioration is offset by the things that you can tick off the list. In that respect each decade is better than the last. Although I’m sure one reaches a tipping point where that’s not the case anymore.

What hobbies do you have?
I used to like yoga, although I haven’t been for ages. It started morphing into an encounter group with people talking about their depression and their marriage problems. I just wanted my ham strings stretched. So I said ‘Namaste’ and didn’t return.
I like pottering around my garden. Am I good? I’m very good at walking around and telling my gardener what to do.

What do you think the public perception is of you, and do you think they’d be surprised by your real life?
Maybe people imagine I’m camp and outrageous all the time and that I wear full make-up and glittery outfits when I’m at home doing the hoovering. In fact I wear just a touch of raspberry lip balm and a drip dry kimono. Just like anyone else.

Are you well known in your village?
Well, who knows? Most people here have got better things to do than get excited about celebrities in their midst. Mind you, I was in the front garden recently and a woman drove past with a friend and then I heard her car screech to a halt. And I heard her say, ‘There he is, look, there he is’. Then she shouted out to me, ‘Where’s the other one?’, meaning Paul O’Grady, who lives in the same village. Quite rude, I thought. Probably from Ashford.

Your children’s book, The Bolds, was hugely successful. Did you feel any pressure writing the second one?
No. I’m onto my third now. They flow out of me, I don’t know where they’re all coming from. It’s delightful; I just have such a lovely time writing them. Making children laugh is a whole new thing for me, it’s lovely. No child pretends to laugh – it’s very genuine. It’s obviously a world away from my usual filth but that’s liberating. A whole new World.

Julian Clary Australian Tour Dates

7th September – Her Majesty’s Theatre, Melbourne
8th September – Opera House, Sydney
12th September – Astor Theatre, Perth

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