Robin Ince on performing to critics who don't quite seem to get it. Lazy fools say that Americans do not understand irony. You only need to look at the best of their TV output to see what rubbish this myth is.
Of course, some Americans don't get irony, but as I have discovered, Edinburgh audiences and critics can have an even bigger problem with it.
I have now had three reviews that have taken my show entirely at face value, believing that I am showing off about being in The Office and about all the people I have worked with.
Actually, using the basis of my own career, I came up with this splinter of my personality who is a boastful idiot who clings to the idea that his minor involvement in TV makes him better than everyone else whilst underneath it all he feels slighted, demeaned and destroyed.
I thought the first clue was the title "The Award Winning Robin Ince Star of the Office Series One episode 5 (first bit)". The second clue, I thought, was the photo I used for the poster which has me in The Office but with a flash going off in my face, so you can't even see any facial detail.
Perhaps that was too subtle. So to make sure the concept is clearly understood I stride on stage and say, "Welcome to the award winning Robin Ince, I AM the award winning Robin Ince. Over the next hour we will be looking at my frankly phenomenal career television over the last 5 years.
"Don't worry I will be talking about all the things you want me to talk about, yes sir, I will be talking about my appearance Ian Wright's Spy TV with that penguin, yes madam, I will be talking about where I get my ideas from for Channel 5's 101 Worst Celebrity Moments and of course I will be talking about what many people consider to be th greatest two minutes and 43 seconds of TV sitcom ever, my appearance as Stewart Foot."
Now by this time, I would hope that people understand that this is not really me bragging and the idea that audience members should have any knowledge of this part of my career is preposterous.
Instead, people, including critics, genuinely believe that I am showing off. I then have moments of confused tantrums, gleeful lauding it over (fictitious) old schoolmates whose lives are now rubbish and have freaky children, before finally going mental yelping about how I have sold myself out by sucking on the money cock of writing links for Andy Crane or appearing on talking heads shows about nothing, while at the same time punching a melon that represents Vernon Kay's head.
Eventually I pulp it with my fist before looking shocked and then bursting into Mustang Sally. Lights out. The end.
I am so confused that people take this all at face value.
I realise now that I should have called myself Billy BitPart and worn a silly wig and buck teeth. One critic complained about how I clearly thought I was better than everyone else.
Near the beginning of the show I check with the audience to see if they are better than me. The questions include: "Who here has been on a digital TV chat show and been asked to hold Nelly Furtado's sweater?" ...Ooh that's me again. "Who's been given a lift to Maida Vale station in Claudia Winkelman's car?"
I am frustrated and shocked that so many people genuinely believe I am bragging.
Oh well, maybe I never knew just how brilliant I was. Oh and also, I don't genuinely believe that I invented The Office.
