Welcome to 2020, the first year to be sponsored by Satan himself. Here’s what the old devil’s got to say for himself… Later on in lockdown, Satan was summoned once again, to answer your burning questions… And finally – even the Dark Lord feels a bit down in the dumps sometimes… For more of this sort of nonsense, please follow the Richard Dadd comedian Facebook page!
The more observant among you might have noticed a global pandemic has been causing a spot of bother lately. Back in March, finding himself in lockdown, and with all his stand-up gigs cancelled, Richard turned to desperately recreating the West Midlands comedy scene in his bedroom… It took several long months, but finally the lockdown restrictions started to ease. Richard was finally free to go out into the world and make contact with his fellow local comedians. But what he found were just the broken shells of people – worn down by isolation and a lack of gigs, they had all but lost their minds… Spare a thought for the next rambling mad man you encounter shouting in a park. Once upon a time, he might have been an obscure local stand-up comedian.
Back in the days of the Gulbenkian Podcast we recorded a 30-minute interview with comedy legend Andy Hamilton. Unfortunately, only a couple of minutes of this material was ever used, so the majority of this interview has gone unheard UNTIL NOW! So let’s take a trip back in time to the Gulbenkian mop cupboard and join me and Andy as we chat about comedy writing; the differences between TV, Film and Radio; his memories of Douglas Adams and Geoffrey Perkins; his sitcoms Outnumbered, Drop the Dead Donkey, Old Harry’s Game and much more…
At last! A brand new short film from Richard Dadd and Dan Fryer: The Outer Circle. This one has had an unusually long gestation. In 2016, we began work on a TV pilot for a proposed series called The Mixed Bag, which was to be a showcase of comedy, music, new writing and short film focused on the West Midlands. Among the many things sketched out for future episodes, I proposed a dramatised short story about a man who spends his days stuck on the Number 11 bus, unable to make progress in his life as he goes round and round forever. But it soon became clear the pilot wasn’t going to lead to a series, so I started thinking about recycling the story as a short film. Our plan was to keep the production as small and basic as possible. We shot on location in Birmingham, with Dan acting as a one-man film crew, while Richard and local actress Catrin Huitson provided things for him to point a camera at. The excellent music was then composed and performed by Natasha Davies, a local musician Richard discovered playing at The Spotted Dog pub in Digbeth. Getting the edit completed...
Should’ve mentioned this a while back, but the old webakestuff Twitter account is now the Richard Dadd Twitter account. So if that sounds like something you might enjoy scrolling through on the loo then head over to: twitter.com/webakestuff Also, if you like lurking in rooms above pubs you might find Richard doing stand-up comedy these days. Probably best to check his Twitter feed for news on that sort of thing. Meanwhile, the first new Bakery film in an absolute age is due to be completed soon. It’s a 10-minute piece filmed in Birmingham, and is the first short film collaboration between Richard Dadd and Dan Fryer since The Last Bookshop. It will contain the words “circle” “chocolate” and “gondola.”
Dearest fellow bakers and baker-fans, chef Dan and chef Gate (that’s us) have recently embarked on a new project. It’s called Live Stock, and it pretty much does exactly what it says on the tin: we’re bringing stock to life, by putting our faces on it. We’d love to hear what you think of it. Let us know on comments or however you like. Social media, email, text message, fax, telegram, smoke signals and interpretive dance are all accepted. The films are below… Enjoy!
Happy New Year everyone! My first act of 2017 was to scatter the accursed ashes of 2016 into the winds of time via the medium of a parody song. Basically, my dad was amusing himself over Christmas by trying to rewrite Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start The Fire” to incorporate the ever-expanding list of celebrity deaths in 2016. Now I am no singer/songwriter, but as the death toll rose, I couldn’t help getting drawn into the gravitational pull of this ludicrous creative endeavour, until I ended up rewriting most of the song myself. I have put FAR too much hard work into this… Fun fact: there is one person who appears in this list who also appears in the original song. Clue: it’s not Paul Daniels.
Our completed TV pilot has now been delivered to the channel for them to consider. To celebrate this milestone, here is another screen-grab to tease you. Will The Bakery soon be embarking on production of its first ever TV series? Watch this space… UPDATE: After delivery of the pilot, the channel revealed their business model does not include paying producers for their content. As we had been consistent all along that our pitch was a business one, the series will unfortunately not be going ahead.
This is an image from it. And that’s all we’re telling you for now.
Remember being a kid? Remember spending all day drawing? Sprawled on the carpet with a biro, a pad of paper and a glass of squash – and letting your imagination take you to the farthest corners of the Universe. Drawing on rainy Sundays. After school. On the 6 week holidays… I was an indoors boy. Not for me the footballs and recreation grounds. No. Outside my front door lay only suburbia. The real adventures were to be found within the pages of my notepads. I can remember the genuine thrill I got from buying a tub of 50 biros from Woolworth’s. That’s right. A thrill. Fifty biros – that would keep me going for ages! It’s hard now to explain my excitement about biros. Now I’m an adult, I have tragically morphed into the kind of tedious dullard to whom biros are merely a tool for filling in forms. Biros are for addressing envelopes. They are for writing birthday cards. They languish in drawers with screws and buttons and receipts. But in those days, biros were reservoirs of stories and pictures. All I had to do was take off the lid, find some paper, and let all the stories...