This TV series will appeal to anyone who likes to laugh
And I am very good at my job. I watch everything from silly sitcoms to dark comedy narrative to experimental humour to internet-based improv shows (better than it sounds!), and I love using my skills and general perfect taste to recommend the great things I find. Often these recommendations are specifically targeted, knowing that comedy is especially subjective, and what I find funny (correct), other people might not (incorrect). Sometimes, however, I come across a show that I know will appeal to basically anyone who likes to laugh. If you don't love to laugh, I don't think I can help – maybe try watching about 40 minutes into Bambi. The reason I think this show can be widely enjoyed is that it is so simple, so funny, and so doesn't take your brain to engage. It's called LOL: Last One Laughing UK.
The concept of the show is so simple that it could make someone scream because they didn't invent it and are instead just writing about it in the paper. Like Taskmaster (which I also love), Last One Laughing takes a bunch of funny comedians and puts them to the test, filmed for our pleasure. Except in this show the test is that 10 comedians are all locked into one big room together for six hours, and in that time are not allowed to laugh. If they laugh, they get a yellow card, and if they laugh again, they get a red, meaning they are out and have to go sit in the other room with Jimmy Carr (punishment). You might guess that the 'last one who is laughing' wins.
Last One Laughing is a franchise show with seasons in places like Australia, Ireland, and South Africa, but whether through luck or planning or both, this first season of the new UK series has rocketed to the top of my rankings. Largely that's to do with the perfect cast, which included several hilarious ex-Taskmaster alums, including Judi Love, Joe Lycett and Lou Sanders, as well as the legend Bob Mortimer (JOKE), the brilliant trained comedic actress Daisy May Cooper, and the always-deadpan Richard Ayoade.
It turns out it is very entertaining to see a group of people whose life revolves around making people laugh go through the extremely unnatural process of figuring out how to not.
They start out fixing their faces into place, trying to walk away if they are going to laugh, avoiding the ones they know will break them, but the show forces them to interact. Some of them also go on the attack, jabbing out with jokes or bits, often endangering themselves. At regular intervals, they must sit on a couch and watch the other comics give pre-planned performances, and a couple of times, an outsider is brought in to try and get them to crack. The strength of the show lies in the diverse comedic approaches of the cast, a mix of characters and funny professionals that are sizing each other up for weak spots. They are professional comedians, which is hard enough, but as we all know, being told you can't laugh is sometimes funnier than anything you might be laughing at.
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One comic breaks at a very funny performance, another breaks after hours of stone-face at an unintentional, not-that-funny-sound that occurs randomly.
Watching Last One Laughing often feels like you're at the sidelines of a comedy sporting event, an endurance test where the best athletes in the country are competing in one room. They go through ebbs and flows, in danger a lot early on, moving into 'dead inside' later in the episodes. It's engaging, and unlike other sports (besides curling), it's very funny. The show ends with a genuinely very tense and incredible face-off between two masterful comics. It's akin to a thrilling State of Origin game three – in this case, scoring is making someone else laugh – and the people I was watching with all cheered and clapped as if Queensland had just won (I was in Queensland). In this time of heaviness and bleakness and not that much laughter, I heartily recommend this show. They are trying to be the last ones laughing, but I guarantee – you'll laugh first.
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7NEWS
2 days ago
- 7NEWS
Former Sydney Swans player Brandon Jack unloads on AFL industry in debut novel, Pissants
Far from the roar of the SCG, former AFL player Brandon Jack has found peace leaving selfies with young footy fans behind. Instead, the son of rugby league great Garry Jack and brother of ex-Sydney Swans star Kieren has been visiting bookstores around Australia, signing copies of his debut novel Pissants. 'I've had moments where I've felt like, 'yeah, this is more enjoyable to me than football ever was,'' Jack tells AAP. Looking back, his five-year, 28-game AFL career was not so much the realisation of a childhood dream as a period of intense anxiety. 'I had five years kind of being on the fringe; of being in the team, out of the team, of resenting the team for not being in it,' he says. 'Post-footy and seeing a psychologist for a long time, I realised there's this fear of, 'am I good enough?' 'I was continually just told, 'no, no, no.' That did something to me that I don't think I reconciled or realised until years later.' Those feelings of rejection are at the heart of Pissants, which details the misadventures of a crew of rowdy AFL players who can't find what it takes to win the approval of coaches, teammates and fans. With stardom painfully close but never within reach, the group self-medicate with drugs, alcohol and a shared twisted sense of humour. While Pissants is a work of fiction, the inspiration is obvious. 'The book is almost like different versions of me at different points in my life communicating with each other,' Jack says. Those voices will be familiar to those who read Jack's memoir 28, in which he detailed his attempts to numb the pain of an unsuccessful and unsatisfying footy career with alcohol. But the adage 'comedy equals tragedy plus time' rings true in the case of Pissants, where the absurdity of life in the AFL system is a source of humour above all else. In a series of uncomfortable interactions, players find themselves telling journalists, coaches and club psychologists what they want to hear, while thinking and feeling something completely different. The authenticity will appeal to footy fans sick of hearing about players 'taking things one week at a time'. 'I hate the whole media training thing that happened in footy - I really do,' Jack says. 'I think it deprived us of so many opportunities to have interesting characters.' Jack admits there was nothing interesting about the front he presented during his playing days. 'The way we were at the Swans was club-first: you are not to stand out. So I didn't really have a personality externally. 'I did a lot of writing but I would never share it. I was always very secretive with my stuff.' There were fears of standing out and concerns he'd be seen as uncommitted. 'As a football player, your primary purpose is to play football and to win games for your team. 'In my third year, when I was worried about my contract, I stopped going to uni part-time because I didn't want anything to be a distraction, or for people to think I was distracted.' Like the characters in Pissants, Jack floundered in footy purgatory, unable to win respect in the game but feeling forbidden from finding an identity outside it. Much has changed for him since leaving the Swans in 2017 and the 31-year-old is pleased to see footy is moving forward too. The likes of Bailey Smith and Jack Ginnivan lead a new breed of AFL players praised by fans, media pundits and sponsors for showing their personalities. But one thing remains the same. 'It's a lot easier to be who you are if you're a successful player,' Jack says. Those not performing well rarely speak publicly - and if they do, it's typically to play the clown. 'One of my least favourite things is when a footy player who didn't have a very successful career comes out and just takes the absolute piss out of himself and that becomes their kind of schtick,' Jack says. 'I've been there and it's f***ing tough. It hurts you deeply.' He suspects some players still face the struggles depicted in Pissants. 'At every club, there are five or six guys who are in this spot and I can just so clearly picture them in someone's garage drinking beers while the senior game is on because they just don't want to watch it.' Having explored the complexity of his feelings about football across two books, Jack is ready to move on. He is working on a series of short stories that have nothing to do with sport and is excited to see where writing takes him. 'It'll be interesting to see when the switch sort of flicks from 'football player turned writer' to just 'writer'. That would be nice,' Jack says. 'But I'm not going to crucify myself waiting for it to happen. It'll happen eventually.'
The Advertiser
2 days ago
- The Advertiser
Beers, tears and existentialism: the unseen side of AFL
Far from the roar of the SCG, former AFL player Brandon Jack has found peace leaving selfies with young footy fans behind. Instead, the son of rugby league great Garry Jack and brother of ex-AFL star Kieren has been visiting bookstores around Australia, signing copies of his debut novel Pissants. "I've had moments where I've felt like, 'yeah, this is more enjoyable to me than football ever was,'" Jack tells AAP. Looking back, his five-year, 28-game AFL career was not so much the realisation of a childhood dream as a period of intense anxiety. "I had five years kind of being on the fringe; of being in the team, out of the team, of resenting the team for not being in it," he says. "Post-footy and seeing a psychologist for a long time, I realised there's this fear of, 'am I good enough?' "I was continually just told, 'no, no, no.' That did something to me that I don't think I reconciled or realised until years later." Those feelings of rejection are at the heart of Pissants, which details the misadventures of a crew of rowdy AFL players who can't find what it takes to win the approval of coaches, teammates and fans. With stardom painfully close but never within reach, the group self-medicate with drugs, alcohol and a shared twisted sense of humour. While Pissants is a work of fiction, the inspiration is obvious. "The book is almost like different versions of me at different points in my life communicating with each other," Jack says. Those voices will be familiar to those who read Jack's memoir 28, in which he detailed his attempts to numb the pain of an unsuccessful and unsatisfying footy career with alcohol. But the adage 'comedy equals tragedy plus time' rings true in the case of Pissants, where the absurdity of life in the AFL system is a source of humour above all else. In a series of uncomfortable interactions, players find themselves telling journalists, coaches and club psychologists what they want to hear, while thinking and feeling something completely different. The authenticity will appeal to footy fans sick of hearing about players 'taking things one week at a time'. "I hate the whole media training thing that happened in footy - I really do," Jack says. "I think it deprived us of so many opportunities to have interesting characters." Jack admits there was nothing interesting about the front he presented during his playing days. "The way we were at the Swans was club-first: you are not to stand out. So I didn't really have a personality externally. "I did a lot of writing but I would never share it. I was always very secretive with my stuff." There were fears of standing out and concerns he'd be seen as uncommitted. "As a football player, your primary purpose is to play football and to win games for your team. "In my third year, when I was worried about my contract, I stopped going to uni part-time because I didn't want anything to be a distraction, or for people to think I was distracted." Like the characters in Pissants, Jack floundered in footy purgatory, unable to win respect in the game but feeling forbidden from finding an identity outside it. Much has changed for him since leaving the Swans in 2017 and the 31-year-old is pleased to see footy is moving forward too. The likes of Bailey Smith and Jack Ginnivan lead a new breed of AFL players praised by fans, media pundits and sponsors for showing their personalities. But one thing remains the same. "It's a lot easier to be who you are if you're a successful player," Jack says. Those not performing well rarely speak publicly - and if they do, it's typically to play the clown. "One of my least favourite things is when a footy player who didn't have a very successful career comes out and just takes the absolute piss out of himself and that becomes their kind of schtick," Jack says. "I've been there and it's f***ing tough. It hurts you deeply." He suspects some players still face the struggles depicted in Pissants. "At every club, there are five or six guys who are in this spot and I can just so clearly picture them in someone's garage drinking beers while the senior game is on because they just don't want to watch it." Having explored the complexity of his feelings about football across two books, Jack is ready to move on. He is working on a series of short stories that have nothing to do with sport and is excited to see where writing takes him. "It'll be interesting to see when the switch sort of flicks from 'football player turned writer' to just 'writer'. That would be nice," Jack says. "But I'm not going to crucify myself waiting for it to happen. It'll happen eventually." Far from the roar of the SCG, former AFL player Brandon Jack has found peace leaving selfies with young footy fans behind. Instead, the son of rugby league great Garry Jack and brother of ex-AFL star Kieren has been visiting bookstores around Australia, signing copies of his debut novel Pissants. "I've had moments where I've felt like, 'yeah, this is more enjoyable to me than football ever was,'" Jack tells AAP. Looking back, his five-year, 28-game AFL career was not so much the realisation of a childhood dream as a period of intense anxiety. "I had five years kind of being on the fringe; of being in the team, out of the team, of resenting the team for not being in it," he says. "Post-footy and seeing a psychologist for a long time, I realised there's this fear of, 'am I good enough?' "I was continually just told, 'no, no, no.' That did something to me that I don't think I reconciled or realised until years later." Those feelings of rejection are at the heart of Pissants, which details the misadventures of a crew of rowdy AFL players who can't find what it takes to win the approval of coaches, teammates and fans. With stardom painfully close but never within reach, the group self-medicate with drugs, alcohol and a shared twisted sense of humour. While Pissants is a work of fiction, the inspiration is obvious. "The book is almost like different versions of me at different points in my life communicating with each other," Jack says. Those voices will be familiar to those who read Jack's memoir 28, in which he detailed his attempts to numb the pain of an unsuccessful and unsatisfying footy career with alcohol. But the adage 'comedy equals tragedy plus time' rings true in the case of Pissants, where the absurdity of life in the AFL system is a source of humour above all else. In a series of uncomfortable interactions, players find themselves telling journalists, coaches and club psychologists what they want to hear, while thinking and feeling something completely different. The authenticity will appeal to footy fans sick of hearing about players 'taking things one week at a time'. "I hate the whole media training thing that happened in footy - I really do," Jack says. "I think it deprived us of so many opportunities to have interesting characters." Jack admits there was nothing interesting about the front he presented during his playing days. "The way we were at the Swans was club-first: you are not to stand out. So I didn't really have a personality externally. "I did a lot of writing but I would never share it. I was always very secretive with my stuff." There were fears of standing out and concerns he'd be seen as uncommitted. "As a football player, your primary purpose is to play football and to win games for your team. "In my third year, when I was worried about my contract, I stopped going to uni part-time because I didn't want anything to be a distraction, or for people to think I was distracted." Like the characters in Pissants, Jack floundered in footy purgatory, unable to win respect in the game but feeling forbidden from finding an identity outside it. Much has changed for him since leaving the Swans in 2017 and the 31-year-old is pleased to see footy is moving forward too. The likes of Bailey Smith and Jack Ginnivan lead a new breed of AFL players praised by fans, media pundits and sponsors for showing their personalities. But one thing remains the same. "It's a lot easier to be who you are if you're a successful player," Jack says. Those not performing well rarely speak publicly - and if they do, it's typically to play the clown. "One of my least favourite things is when a footy player who didn't have a very successful career comes out and just takes the absolute piss out of himself and that becomes their kind of schtick," Jack says. "I've been there and it's f***ing tough. It hurts you deeply." He suspects some players still face the struggles depicted in Pissants. "At every club, there are five or six guys who are in this spot and I can just so clearly picture them in someone's garage drinking beers while the senior game is on because they just don't want to watch it." Having explored the complexity of his feelings about football across two books, Jack is ready to move on. He is working on a series of short stories that have nothing to do with sport and is excited to see where writing takes him. "It'll be interesting to see when the switch sort of flicks from 'football player turned writer' to just 'writer'. That would be nice," Jack says. "But I'm not going to crucify myself waiting for it to happen. It'll happen eventually." Far from the roar of the SCG, former AFL player Brandon Jack has found peace leaving selfies with young footy fans behind. Instead, the son of rugby league great Garry Jack and brother of ex-AFL star Kieren has been visiting bookstores around Australia, signing copies of his debut novel Pissants. "I've had moments where I've felt like, 'yeah, this is more enjoyable to me than football ever was,'" Jack tells AAP. Looking back, his five-year, 28-game AFL career was not so much the realisation of a childhood dream as a period of intense anxiety. "I had five years kind of being on the fringe; of being in the team, out of the team, of resenting the team for not being in it," he says. "Post-footy and seeing a psychologist for a long time, I realised there's this fear of, 'am I good enough?' "I was continually just told, 'no, no, no.' That did something to me that I don't think I reconciled or realised until years later." Those feelings of rejection are at the heart of Pissants, which details the misadventures of a crew of rowdy AFL players who can't find what it takes to win the approval of coaches, teammates and fans. With stardom painfully close but never within reach, the group self-medicate with drugs, alcohol and a shared twisted sense of humour. While Pissants is a work of fiction, the inspiration is obvious. "The book is almost like different versions of me at different points in my life communicating with each other," Jack says. Those voices will be familiar to those who read Jack's memoir 28, in which he detailed his attempts to numb the pain of an unsuccessful and unsatisfying footy career with alcohol. But the adage 'comedy equals tragedy plus time' rings true in the case of Pissants, where the absurdity of life in the AFL system is a source of humour above all else. In a series of uncomfortable interactions, players find themselves telling journalists, coaches and club psychologists what they want to hear, while thinking and feeling something completely different. The authenticity will appeal to footy fans sick of hearing about players 'taking things one week at a time'. "I hate the whole media training thing that happened in footy - I really do," Jack says. "I think it deprived us of so many opportunities to have interesting characters." Jack admits there was nothing interesting about the front he presented during his playing days. "The way we were at the Swans was club-first: you are not to stand out. So I didn't really have a personality externally. "I did a lot of writing but I would never share it. I was always very secretive with my stuff." There were fears of standing out and concerns he'd be seen as uncommitted. "As a football player, your primary purpose is to play football and to win games for your team. "In my third year, when I was worried about my contract, I stopped going to uni part-time because I didn't want anything to be a distraction, or for people to think I was distracted." Like the characters in Pissants, Jack floundered in footy purgatory, unable to win respect in the game but feeling forbidden from finding an identity outside it. Much has changed for him since leaving the Swans in 2017 and the 31-year-old is pleased to see footy is moving forward too. The likes of Bailey Smith and Jack Ginnivan lead a new breed of AFL players praised by fans, media pundits and sponsors for showing their personalities. But one thing remains the same. "It's a lot easier to be who you are if you're a successful player," Jack says. Those not performing well rarely speak publicly - and if they do, it's typically to play the clown. "One of my least favourite things is when a footy player who didn't have a very successful career comes out and just takes the absolute piss out of himself and that becomes their kind of schtick," Jack says. "I've been there and it's f***ing tough. It hurts you deeply." He suspects some players still face the struggles depicted in Pissants. "At every club, there are five or six guys who are in this spot and I can just so clearly picture them in someone's garage drinking beers while the senior game is on because they just don't want to watch it." Having explored the complexity of his feelings about football across two books, Jack is ready to move on. He is working on a series of short stories that have nothing to do with sport and is excited to see where writing takes him. "It'll be interesting to see when the switch sort of flicks from 'football player turned writer' to just 'writer'. That would be nice," Jack says. "But I'm not going to crucify myself waiting for it to happen. It'll happen eventually."
Perth Now
2 days ago
- Perth Now
Beers, tears and existentialism: the unseen side of AFL
Far from the roar of the SCG, former AFL player Brandon Jack has found peace leaving selfies with young footy fans behind. Instead, the son of rugby league great Garry Jack and brother of ex-AFL star Kieren has been visiting bookstores around Australia, signing copies of his debut novel Pissants. "I've had moments where I've felt like, 'yeah, this is more enjoyable to me than football ever was,'" Jack tells AAP. Looking back, his five-year, 28-game AFL career was not so much the realisation of a childhood dream as a period of intense anxiety. "I had five years kind of being on the fringe; of being in the team, out of the team, of resenting the team for not being in it," he says. "Post-footy and seeing a psychologist for a long time, I realised there's this fear of, 'am I good enough?' "I was continually just told, 'no, no, no.' That did something to me that I don't think I reconciled or realised until years later." Those feelings of rejection are at the heart of Pissants , which details the misadventures of a crew of rowdy AFL players who can't find what it takes to win the approval of coaches, teammates and fans. With stardom painfully close but never within reach, the group self-medicate with drugs, alcohol and a shared twisted sense of humour. While Pissants is a work of fiction, the inspiration is obvious. "The book is almost like different versions of me at different points in my life communicating with each other," Jack says. Those voices will be familiar to those who read Jack's memoir 28, in which he detailed his attempts to numb the pain of an unsuccessful and unsatisfying footy career with alcohol. But the adage 'comedy equals tragedy plus time' rings true in the case of Pissants, where the absurdity of life in the AFL system is a source of humour above all else. In a series of uncomfortable interactions, players find themselves telling journalists, coaches and club psychologists what they want to hear, while thinking and feeling something completely different. The authenticity will appeal to footy fans sick of hearing about players 'taking things one week at a time'. "I hate the whole media training thing that happened in footy - I really do," Jack says. "I think it deprived us of so many opportunities to have interesting characters." Jack admits there was nothing interesting about the front he presented during his playing days. "The way we were at the Swans was club-first: you are not to stand out. So I didn't really have a personality externally. "I did a lot of writing but I would never share it. I was always very secretive with my stuff." There were fears of standing out and concerns he'd be seen as uncommitted. "As a football player, your primary purpose is to play football and to win games for your team. "In my third year, when I was worried about my contract, I stopped going to uni part-time because I didn't want anything to be a distraction, or for people to think I was distracted." Like the characters in Pissants, Jack floundered in footy purgatory, unable to win respect in the game but feeling forbidden from finding an identity outside it. Much has changed for him since leaving the Swans in 2017 and the 31-year-old is pleased to see footy is moving forward too. The likes of Bailey Smith and Jack Ginnivan lead a new breed of AFL players praised by fans, media pundits and sponsors for showing their personalities. But one thing remains the same. "It's a lot easier to be who you are if you're a successful player," Jack says. Those not performing well rarely speak publicly - and if they do, it's typically to play the clown. "One of my least favourite things is when a footy player who didn't have a very successful career comes out and just takes the absolute piss out of himself and that becomes their kind of schtick," Jack says. "I've been there and it's f***ing tough. It hurts you deeply." He suspects some players still face the struggles depicted in Pissants. "At every club, there are five or six guys who are in this spot and I can just so clearly picture them in someone's garage drinking beers while the senior game is on because they just don't want to watch it." Having explored the complexity of his feelings about football across two books, Jack is ready to move on. He is working on a series of short stories that have nothing to do with sport and is excited to see where writing takes him. "It'll be interesting to see when the switch sort of flicks from 'football player turned writer' to just 'writer'. That would be nice," Jack says. "But I'm not going to crucify myself waiting for it to happen. It'll happen eventually."
