Mark Bittlestone, What’s Your Problem?!

What’s Your Problem? is a podcast recorded at the Big Belly Comedy Club, where we try to figure out what’s wrong with comedians that makes them want to tell jokes on stage. 

Mark Bittlestone is a comedian rapidly making a name for himself both online (TikTok and Instagram) and on the UK standup circuit. Interviewed by Lance Carter. 

Mark Bittlestone, what’s your problem?

So my problem is twofold. First of all, I’m gay. That’s a big problem. And second of all, my parents are dead.

I’ve seen a lot of your material about being gay, but where do the dead parents fit in?

I go through phases with regards to making jokes about them. But that’s probably the B side to my work if the A side is talking about being gay.

How did the dead parents lead to comedy?

For lots of different reasons. I think part of it was the motivation. My parents were about 60 when they died, that’s quite young. So I guess I was sleepwalking into jobs that my peers were doing, like accounting or stuff like that, and my siblings are in consulting and that kind of thing. It wasn’t something that I really wanted to do, I think my parents dying made me realise I only get X amount of years, so I should do something that I really want to do, or at least try. 

To be honest with you, my parents dying also gave me the financial breathing space to try and do that. Not that I can live in an unlimited fashion, I’m just fortunate that they were pretty well off and died. 

So I thought it would be cool to make something good out of what was a bit of a tragedy, to use the money that they put aside for us to help myself become a comic.

You don’t come across as a conventional setup/punchline kind of comedian. Would you call what you do more of a storytelling style?

Yeah, I think there’s definitely some of that in what I do. For sure. I think my sense of humour is quite aggressive. It’s taken me a long time to be like, how do you make that work without going too far, or being too dark?

What do you mean by aggressive? 

I like being quite mean. And when it’s at my own expense, it’s kind of fine. But audiences do have a limit with stuff unless they’re feeling super safe. So it’s taken me a fairly long time to make audiences feel comfortable; and then you can actually tell the jokes that you want to.

Lenny Sherman told me, when I was very new, that I should try opening with some “nice” jokes to get the audience on side before I go into the rest of my set.

I think that’s great advice. I would do five or ten minutes of “gay” material before telling jokes about my parents being dead. It’s exactly that, it’s a softer entrance.

Your bit that really stuck with me was this long, flowery description of Rishi Sunak, in a glade in a forest. Again, it’s not setup/punch line in the conventional sense. It’s just a really elaborate and funny use of language. Does that just come to you, or is that something you really work hard on getting the descriptive language spot on?

That bit, literally, I just remember I was helping out with this comic play a friend had written. I was sitting at the side of a rehearsal and I just wrote all of that in one sitting. 

But then obviously, there’s other times where it takes you know months and months and months, for one or two jokes, right? 

It’s that juxtaposition of ludicrously verbose language, but you’re talking about getting bummed. That was three years ago though, in the pandemic when Rishi Sunak was actually seen as kind of a good guy because he was doing the furlough scheme then. It’s not funny now. 

You were in Cambridge Footlights, what was that experience like?

It’s amazing and I was incredibly fortunate to be there because you’ve got a setup dedicated to comedy. 

You’ve got your own theatre to start with, and you’ve got a 220 seater that’s just sold out automatically every fortnight to perform in front of. So, obviously, insanely privileged from that perspective.

Then there was the jump down to having to do the open mic circuit in London. Looking back, I think I was just so excited to be doing comedy while I was at Cambridge that I didn’t really even think, or have half an eye on a career, because my dad had just passed away.

Looking back at it I wish I just committed to stand up. There’s no real money in sketch comedy, it’s a very difficult career. I think there’s loads of amazing acts out there who know they want to do stand up and that’s the reason why they go to Cambridge, they smash it there, they get signed while they’re there or immediately afterwards, and then they don’t have to, basically go back to basics and grind away at open mic bring nights or empty rooms.

How long were you grinding away at open mics before you felt like you were making progress?

Throughout 2017/18/19, I would commit and have, like, six weeks of going for it where I’d gigging two or three nights a week, and then I’d find it exhausting, not making any ground, run out of friends to take to bringers. So I would dip in and out. 

That’s part of the reason why I ended up going back and doing sketch, because me and my friend co-ran a night every other week. So we’d only gig once every two weeks, we wouldn’t have to do these awful open mic nights. And then in the pandemic, it was mainly growing a bit of a social media audience that made me think oh, maybe I do have something to offer? Maybe I can do this. Maybe there are people who would watch me and pay to watch me. And then then I just recommitted to stand up after the pandemic.

Talking of open mics, I found a lot of videos of you beating gong shows. A lot of acts are terrified of them, but you seem to enjoy them.

Not so much anymore. But I think Up the Creeks has a special place in my heart. Because immediately after the pandemic, that was the one where I just kept going back and doing it. That was the one that made me think, maybe I can do this. Because I started beating it a few times, then I won it, and then they asked me if I wanted to do a 10 spot there. So it was my first pro spot. That felt really good. 

I think that people have different opinions about gong shows, and isn’t the only skill you need to learn. But being able to, to quieten a room that is out to get you, is a pretty good skill, and being able to counter a combative room is a good skill, because you do find those in different contexts and places when people are drunk on Friday nights.

What’s your battle-plan when you go into a combative room like that?

I’m lucky from that perspective, because if you’re a gay guy, you are, not at an advantage, but you come at it from quite an interesting perspective because I can flirt with straight guys.

So the status dynamics are different for you?

Yeah, in quite an interesting, fun way. And I can get away with it. So my dynamic will be to play off that. 

A lot of the time, depending on the night, I’ll get there for the start of the gig and try to notice something about someone in the front row that deserves to be commented on. Because I think the bar for crowd work is so much lower than material right? If you can just think of something funny to say about someone in the front row, you normally do really well.

It shows you’re present in the room?

You can get people on board so quickly, then that gives you a bit of breathing space for material.

You appear very confident – is that confidence something you feel when you’re on stage?

I feel confident when I’m onstage, definitely. I think that’s just miles under your belt. I don’t feel that confident in myself as a comedian offstage, when I’m thinking about myself or my act. I think that’s relatively common though, loads of people are ridden with self-doubt in the industry. And then there’s those handful of sociopaths who never had a shred of self-doubt.

What mistakes did you make early on in your career?

Very early on, I did 45 minutes at the Brighton fringe. I didn’t even have a five really. Steve Bennett turned up and reviewed it.

I read that review, and thought I wouldn’t bring it up in this interview because it’s not very nice…

Looking back now, it’s a hilarious review. To be honest, almost all of what he says is completely true. I should not have been doing 45 at that point.

You need to tread that line between pushing yourself and not rushing yourself.. There’s a kind of golden area in the middle that you want to land on.