Friday Night Comedy from BBC Radio 4 - The Now Show - 10th April ft Zoe Lyons, Scott Bennett and Jess Robinson

Episode Date: April 10, 2020

Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis get to grips with the continuing COVID-19 lock-down and disruption with sketches and guests.In the last of the current series, Zoe Lyons tries to gets things done, Scott Bennett speaks to us from his shed, and Jess Robinson invokes her blitz spirit.Also featuring George Fouracres and Gemma Arrowsmith.Song written and arranged by Jess Robinson and Alex Silverman.Written by the cast, with additional material from Catherine Brinkworth, Gareth Gwynn, Alex Kealy and Simon Alcock.Production Co-Ordinator: Caroline Barlow Engineer and Editor: David ThomasProducer: Adnan AhmedA BBC Studios Production

This is the BBC. This podcast is supported by advertising outside the UK. BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. and comedy coronacasters Jake Yap, John Holmes, Salma Shah, and Nat Tapley drop in on comedians who simply have nothing better to do than talk to us over their shonky internet connections. But in my kitchen, I have to be quite close to my daughter. It's quite hard. Here is Miranda's

guide. It's in a grey colour. I want to say slate. Can I say slate? No. I'll say it all again. Don't worry. Now wash your hands. A warm, we're all in it together cast, hooking everyone up, not in a Tinder way, social distancing, across the nation. Subscribe on BBC Sounds. Hello, I'm Steve Punt.

And I'm Hugh Dennis. With us are Zoe Lyons, Scott Bennett, Gemma Harris-Smith, Jess Robinson and George Fouracres. And this is... The Now Show! Thank you very much and welcome to hopefully the last show that we'll all be doing from home. Yes, in a week where the human cost of coronavirus is becoming all too horribly obvious and the Prime Minister himself remains in hospital,

we learned that the animal kingdom too is being affected. First, a tiger has contracted COVID-19 at the Bronx Zoo. How on earth? It caught it from one of the zookeepers apparently, which is amazing, because it would have thought that of all the animals in the world, the tiger is the one you would most want to socially distance from. A tiger has the virus. Now, how they know that, I'm not sure,

because the test involves taking a swab from the back of the throat. And I'm not sure a mask is going to provide much protection there. But however they did it, the tiger proved positive for COVID-19, although negative for children's literature. Once, a little girl called Sophie was having tea with her mummy in the kitchen. Suddenly, there was a ring at the door. Sophie's mummy said, Who can that be? It can't be the milkman because he's in self-isolation. It can't be daddy because he's already been out for his exercise.

And it can't be the grocer because I spent six hours yesterday trying to get a delivery slot, and when I finally gave up, I was still 17,000th in the queue. We'd better open the door and see. So Sophie opened the door, and there was a great big furry stripy tiger. Good afternoon, he said. Do you think I could have tea with you? Or better still, have you got any Lemsip?

I've got a persistent dry cough. Sophie's mother said... Get away from the door, Sophie! Get away from the door! And later they disinfected everything the tiger had been near. The tiger was later arrested for breaking lockdown and put in a cell with Joe Exotic. In more cheerful animal news, the coronavirus has been a positive benefit to two pandas at Hong Kong Zoo. Ying Ying and Lei Lei have finally mated for the first time in ten years,

thanks to the privacy they've enjoyed as the zoo now has no visitors, which makes you wonder why the zoo didn't think of that before. The mating plan just isn't happening. Anyone got any suggestions that might help? I know this sounds crazy, but why don't we get rid of the blokes banging on the glass of the enclosure while holding their phones up? Get rid of the blokes?

But then there'll be no-one to shout, Go on, my son! Apart from the 14 camera crews. Ying Ying and Lei Lei are now fully coupled up. It's interesting, though, that despite their difficulties in mating, they both insist on using their porn names. Their real names are Christine and Derek. So, coronavirus has had an upside if you're a panda,

which seems quite handy, really. Maybe pandas planned the whole thing. Yeah, we don't want to start any ridiculous conspiracy theory here, but why? Just tell me why is it called a pandemic? Eh? Eh? As conspiracy theories go, that's only slightly less ridiculous than the idea the outbreak was caused by 5G phone signals, on the grounds that low-frequency electromagnetic radiation may affect the immune system. The 5G theory wouldn't explain, though, why a. the virus is just as active in areas without 5G, b. why the

residents of wuhan weren't also suffering from every other illness the immune system protects us from and c why kevin bacon is risking being sued by the entire planet for flogging us 5g every time we turn on television it's not just business and schools that have gone online there are now plans to make parliament online too with with MPs remaining in their own homes. At last, after years of argument, a chance to get Parliament out of London and put it nowhere. There is a small worry about the reliance on technology, with fears that MPs in rural areas may experience a time lag of a second or so, or in Jacob Rees-Mogg's house, 150 years or so. Quite how common's procedure will be affected by having to debate via video conferencing is uncertain. Apart from the Speaker having to say

The Member for Bassetlaw has joined the debate. All the time. It may also affect the time-honoured parliamentary insults. The phrase, sit down, sit down, will be followed by or push the camera back, I can't see the top of your head.

Parliament may have to be suspended every time someone's teenage son begins downloading a 60 gigabyte update for Call of Duty. And the State Opening of Parliament will continue, but the Queen's speech may be construed as promotional material for the government, in which case Her Majesty will be required to start with... My Lords, Ladies and Honourable Members, you can skip this ad in five, four, three... And then the whole thing begins.

The Queen, of course, has been busy this week, having made a very well-received speech from Windsor Castle to the nation. Yes, unfortunately she made her broadcast on a Sunday evening, and if you're watching on BBC One on a Sunday evening and you see someone in a posh room surrounded by antiques, it's a bit confusing. I kept expecting a bloke in a bow tie to surrounded by antiques it's a bit confusing. I kept expecting a bloke in a bow tie to come in and tell her what price the lamp might fetch at auction. The key message of her speech was we'll meet again and it went down very well partly because with both her heir and her prime minister having contracted the virus her words were clearly

heartfelt and partly because she's getting tired of having to knight people with a two meter long sword. Still her majesty is probably pleased to hear that Ascot is planning to go ahead, but behind closed doors, and this may happen with football too. Several massively profitable premiership clubs had to hurriedly backpedal this week after announcing that taxpayers would have to pay 80% of their non-playing staff's wages after they put them on furlough. This was pretty much the only football action going on this week, so sports stations like Five Live had to adapt their coverage fast.

Well, it's a lovely spring day here at Anfield, not that that makes much difference because we're indoors for this clash. On one side of the conference call, the Chief Financial Officer of Liverpool Football Club, and on the other, ground staff united, hoping for a solid defensive performance today. What do you make of it, Ray? Well, Geoff, the finance department

will have been in training all week for this call. They know what they need to do, but I'm just not sure they're going to be able to get past these non-playing employees today. And they've kicked off. And the crowd sound effects go up in volume. Well, there's no ticker-tacker from the chief financial officer.

He's gone long. That's an 80-page document they've just emailed over. And it looks like the club have scored a massive own goal. A lot of people have failed to set an example this week. Scotland's Chief Medical Officer, Catherine Calderwood, resigned after admitting that she had broken her own lockdown advice by visiting her second home on two consecutive weekends. She initially claimed that she was checking on it

as it would be unoccupied for a while, which sounds reasonable. How is the cottage, do you think? After a full 48-hour check, I'd say it's as comfortable as ever. We should check it again next weekend. Needs regular checking. And she wasn't alone. New Zealand's health minister was forced to apologise for taking his family to the beach,

which isn't somewhere any politician can really justify going to, except possibly one. Let me explain, officer, that as a result of this virus, I am on the beach to see whether we should fight it here. And later, I am off to Gatwick to check on the landing grounds. and later I am off to Gatwick to check on the landing grounds. But the politician with the least understanding of the importance of setting an example is surely Donald Trump, who drove home his own government's medical advice that everyone should wear a mask by saying... I think wearing a face mask as I greet presidents,

prime ministers, dictators, kings, queens, I don't see it for myself. I just don't. Forgetting, of course, that none of those people will be travelling anywhere and he won't be greeting any of them with only one, maybe, possible exception. Good afternoon, Mr President. I thought I would pop over to check on you and to make sure you know the importance of following advice. I'm Catherine, by the way.

That wasn't the only example of Trump's medical expertise this week, though. He's also constantly plugging, on the basis of one small unofficial study in France, a little-studied anti-malaria drug as a cure for Covid-19. It's called hydroxychloroquine, and he's bought 30 million doses. Even though the evidence is something quite atrocious, turns out he's got a small investment in the manufacturers. Hydroxychloroquine just proves his science knowledge hopeless. This week, we're once again joined remotely by our guests as they send us their audio dispatches.

First up, we have Zoe Lyons. Up until a couple of weeks ago, there would have been very few people who would have been able to accurately answer the hypothetical post-dinner party question, so how would you cope in a global pandemic? One remarkable exception, perhaps, is the 104-year-old Italian supernana Ada Zanusa, who recently recovered from COVID-19, having also lived through the Spanish flu outbreak. Perhaps a perfectly balanced mixture of that Mediterranean diet, sun-leathered skin and a generous daily shot of grappa have made her virus resistant. Because she has not kicked one, but two pandemics squarely in the butt and lived to tell the tale. Unlike Nana Ada, we won't all get this virus, but it is no exaggeration to say that the mental implications of lockdown will have left no one unaffected.

lockdown will have left no one unaffected. And like the vast majority of people, I am totally prepared to make the necessary adjustments to life to protect others. But I've got to be honest, I've really struggled at times to get my head around this new world we all temporarily have found ourselves in. We are all now having to deal with and process massive dollops of unexpected disappointment. Like the time I stood in a fresh dog do on a moving train and was left wondering how and why did that just happen? There isn't a person in the country that hasn't experienced some form of mental blow over the last few weeks. And of course, disappointment won't kill you.

Although the first time you experience it properly, it can be a bit of a shock. I never forget my parents telling me we were going on our first foreign holiday. My excited, great expectations brain immediately thought, Disneyland. We're definitely going to Disneyland. This was the early 80s when there wasn't much transatlantic vacationing, so I had aimed pretty high. We didn't go to Disneyland. vacationing, so I had aimed pretty high. We didn't go to Disneyland. Instead, we drove to Brittany in my dad's rusty Fiat and spent a challenging week in a mouse-infested rum-down cottage. My mother refused to get undressed at night because of the marauding horde of squeaking rodents. I got pinned to a fence by a terrifying Alsatian, barking at me aggressively in French,

offence by a terrifying Alsatian, barking at me aggressively in French, only to be rescued by an equally aggressive yet toothless farmer, also barking at me in French. Now get off my land! Driving home to the UK, a suitcase flew off the car rack and a lorry drove over our possessions, so yeah, not Disneyland. There's the postponed weddings, trips away, visit to loved ones, the car getting its MOT. I don't know why, but I always really look forward to that. And then there's the other disappointment that comes as an unexpected side effect of this disease. The disappointment I've had in myself. For years I've said, oh, if only I had the time, I'd get so much done creatively. Yes, I am a creative. I have over a hundred felt-tip pens in my study.

I would absolutely bash out a novel, maybe two. I might try composing an opera or some form of multi-layered folk ballad. Perhaps knit a landscape in the style of Flemish medieval painters. Well, now I have nothing but time on my hands and it turns out it wasn't time I was lacking, but rather talent and discipline. I've even considered taking up French, Italian and Spanish, which I did rather successfully, I'll have you know, in the form of Beaujolais, Pinot Grigio and Rioja, and now my wine rack is as empty as my mind. It's become glaringly obvious that unlike the plague quarantine Shakespeare, I'm not going to produce a classic during this period, but instead I have found myself attempting push-ups in the living room while smoking a cigar and wearing my pyjamas. The pressure to be productive

and failing was making me feel down. So I've decided to do the only thing that you can do sensibly in a pandemic, and that is roll with it. Do what you can. In the last week, I've spoken with strangers on the phone, helped people get their prescriptions. I've connected at a safe distance, of course, with my neighbours, and I've even done a spot of delivery driving with veg boxes. Yeah, you heard me. Veg boxes. I might not have written that book, but I am using the ones that I have at home

to stand on and clean the tops of much-neglected shelves. These tiny, tiny endeavours have helped me massively to feel much more positive. At least now I can answer the no-longer hypothetical question, so how would you cope in a global pandemic? Not very well, initially it turns out, but I am adapting, learning, feeling my way through this situation. We all will have our low moments, but I've also found real moments of joy in the muck. I realise this is not Disneyland. This is not what any of us bargained for. It's okay to feel disappointed. We have all had to adjust our expectations. But that week in France was the

one family holiday that we all remember. And we can all laugh about it now. And who knows, when this is all over, I might even write a book about this or write a song or express it with some sort of freestyle colouring in or a musical, perhaps some Indonesian shadow puppetry or Mongolian. That was Zoe Lyons. Now, listeners have been sending in things that they've overheard or read recently. And thanks this week to Alexandra, who says that when out on her daily permitted walk, she overheard from two metres away a passerby saying... We're really lucky though, actually, because we got through COVID-1 to 18 with barely any impact at all. It was bound to get us eventually. Yeah, it's not a franchise, you know. And Anthony is worried that a lot of traditional

proverbs and sayings will be out of date in the new post-lockdown era and suggests some updated ones, including... Two's company, three's not allowed. A little of what you fancy is all that's left in the supermarket. And laughter is the best medicine, because all the others currently have supply problems. All good suggestions, I think, because, as many commentators are predicting, things will never be the same after all this.

Some things are already changing. Keir Starmer is now leader of the Labour Party, and the question now is can he unite the followers of both Jeremy Corbyn and Tony Blair? And it looks hopeful as he's got the policies of Corbyn combined with the not being Corbyn of Blair. Things are changing in America too with 78-year-old Bernie Sanders suspending his presidential campaign meaning 77-year-old Joe Biden will take on 73-year-old Donald Trump. Which means that should they visit Britain, neither of the possible US presidents would be allowed out to the shops. It's not just politics, of course.

The world of business is also already changing, with the crisis doing what crises often do, by hugely speeding up things that were happening anyway, but very slowly. People have been talking about video conferencing and remote working for years, but suddenly everyone's adopted it overnight. A mass adoption the scale of which we haven't seen since Angelina Jolie last visited Cambodia. Fast forward a few years and all meetings will finally be virtual. Our famously low British productivity

will be the norm as everybody literally phones it in. And this will be the case with many types of meetings. In the future we'll know when a new Pope's been elected by the plume of white smoke pouring out of an 80-year-old Cardinal's laptop while they try to host a conclave on House Party. What else might change? Well, the crisis has totally reversed who's in the public eye, with celebrities trying vainly to get public attention, while scientists and medical experts are all over the media.

Generation C, the children of the coronavirus era, could grow up watching shows like Strictly Come Diagnosing or Britain's Next Top Epidemiologist. Contestants, your challenge is you will each be asked the same question by Laura Koonsberg over and over again until you lose the will to live. Whoever lasts the longest wins. Things will also change in our daily lives for some time to live. Whoever lasts the longest wins. Things will also change in our daily lives

for some time to come. I reckon that handshakes, for example, have probably had their day, which will cause problems for Freemasons who won't be able to recognise each other. Anything involving physical contact with strangers will have to be rethought. Airport security, for example, will need to find an alternative to the pat-down. Okay, sir, step to the side for me, please. If you could just stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, arms out to the sides. That's it. Now, you promise you haven't got a bomb?

What? No. Promise? Not even up your bottom? Yeah. I mean, I promise. Really, really, really promise? Yes. Cross your heart and hope to fly? Yes. Even some of the simplest things in life

may never be quite the same. Birthday parties may suffer. So why don't you blow out the candles? One, two, three. Right, who wants a slice? No, I'm fine. There will be good things of course. For example, when you've spent three months going no further than a few hundred metres from your house, holiday plans don't have to be exotic to feel exciting. So where are you thinking of going this year? Well, we were looking at East Croydon. Oh, nice. Yeah, it'll be great to have a break from West Croydon.

For me, there are certainly going to be many personal changes. For a start, I'm going to keep washing my hands at every opportunity, in spite of the consequences. With constant washing, my hands are ageing at twice the rate of the rest of my body. Although as an actor, it opens up the world for me, because at the moment, my hands and my body can audition for completely different roles.

My body for sitcoms, my hands for the remake of The Mummy Returns. But I'm going to carry on clapping for the NHS and their workers on Thursday nights, mainly because they absolutely deserve it for their amazing work throughout this crisis, but also because clapping may bring some circulation back to the desiccated skin of my hands. Anything else for the post-virus future? Yep, I'm going to wear a mask to make sure that everyone keeps their distance from me.

That sounds like a good idea. It's going to be of Michael Gove. distance from me. That sounds like a good idea. It's going to be of Michael Gove. Next, we go over to stand-up comic Scott Bennett in Nottingham, and he's determined to make sure that despite the pandemic, the show goes on. Let me tell you where I am, listeners. I'm here in the only place I feel safe at the moment, my shed. I've been self-isolating since way before it was trending. Although I didn't call it that, I called it hiding from my responsibilities. The shed is quite compact, about six foot long by four foot wide, about the size of a downstairs toilet in the north or a one bed flat in central London. On the 14th of March BC, before corona, I did my last

live stand-up gig. Now I can't get on stage, so like everyone else, I've decided to start working from home. And I'm not the only one. Loads of comedians are doing this. There's Robin Ince doing his stay-at-home festival, panel shows over Skype, and comedy clubs are plundering their archives to stream footage from past shows. Each week I do my own live stand-up gig to a webcam here in the shed for the people on Facebook. It's essentially a cross between Bay Station and B&Q. In Italy, they sang songs from the balconies.

It was tender and it was beautiful. Here in Nottingham, you've got a Yorkshireman bellowing punchlines in a wooden bunker at the bottom of his garden. The response has been amazing. I've been on BBC News, Sky News, Five Live. Over 20,000 people have watched the first show as it was streamed live. It seems one man's pandemic is another man's career break. Somebody even asked me who I got to do my PR. PR? I didn't plan this.

I didn't think forget live at the Apollo. I want to be the acceptable face of the coronavirus. I think people were looking for a distraction, which comedy certainly has the power to be. Roy and Margaret, my parents, also feature. My dad plays the ukulele and my mum sings. Listening to them do a rendition of The Urban Spaceman with my mum playing the kazoo was the first time since this crisis began when I realised just what a long haul this would be. But it's been amazing to see how my parents have embraced technology. Before the pandemic, they were useless. My dad bought himself an iPad so he technology. Before the pandemic, they were useless. My dad bought himself an iPad so he could video call the kids.

But he never got the hang of it because he would always ring us first, half an hour before, to see if we were prepared for the FaceTime. It's not Glastonbury, Dad. Just have a go. And he couldn't use the camera. For weeks, we'd been video called by a fridge freezer. There was nothing there. Then all of a sudden, this I would just come creeping into view. Here's grandad. How's that little granddaughter today? Terrified, obviously. It's not even half six and she's just been FaceTimed by the hills of eyes. She's never going to sleep again. It's all changed now though. I've got my mum inviting me

to a three-way video conferencing session on Zoom. Dad's in the spare room with a headset on, streaming a live vlog to his followers on Twitch. This has to be the best era for a crisis like this. This virus may be keeping us apart, but technology is bringing us together. Our family is adapting well to life in quarantine. I've got two children, Sophia who is four and Olivia who is eight. I mean, I say she's eight. She's three when we go swimming. I'm not an idiot. Four on a bus, five on a train. She hasn't got a clue how old she is. She's so confused. Every birthday is a genuine surprise for all of us. We imagine to keep them entertained. Thankfully, they've got the internet and box sets on demand. Imagine trying to do this in the 80s when I was a kid. Four TV channels and a six-hour Monopoly marathon.

That's not isolating. That's just a Sunday. But I felt something these past few days that I haven't experienced in years. Boredom. Last Tuesday, all I did was griddle some aubergines. That was it. A whole day. That was my only achievement.

I needed the toilet, but I decided to hold it in just so I could have something to look forward to on the Wednesday. I can't wait for Friday. That's the day I finally get to top up the bird feeders. But in the midst of this trauma there are things to celebrate. There's a real sense of community now. People are pulling together. We have a WhatsApp group in Nottingham where people shop for those who can't get out. Everyone is very reasonable on there. You just have to have a think about what you ask for. You can't have people risking their health just to pick you up some fresh peppercorns. We're in a state of national emergency, Malcolm. I think you might have to accept that your food may be slightly less seasoned from now on. I'm really missing my job. I've done shows every weekend for nearly a decade

and I feel lost without it. I miss the hen parties and the stag nights, the punters on their phones and the drunken heckles from the shadows. I even miss that now too. I can't keep doing jokes for my wife in the shed. It's not normal. If you carry on like that, you won't have a career or a wife. After all this is over, I think we will all need a laugh. Comedy is going to be in such high demand and I can't wait to be back on the front line in that comedy club where I belong. But until that day comes, I guess this shed will just have to do.

Scott Bennett there. Now, during the lockdown, we've all had to resort to food and drink from the back of the larder. And we've asked listeners this week, what is the most desperate culinary concoction that they have had to resort to so far? Ketchup that went out of date in 2015. It's getting darker colours and I think I've discovered the origin of brown sauce. Now, this one's really odd. My partner has an Alpen curry recipe. He cooks Alpen curry powder and water in a microwave. It's as grim as it sounds, which I can believe. Not as grim as this.

We've found that LemSip adds a delicious depth of flavour to chicken that little else can achieve. It also helps with the hangover from all the daytime drinking. This one here from Australia says, in Australia there is a section in the freezer called the mystery meal section. Honestly, I have no idea what I've been eating for the last couple of weeks. That's an Australian accent, was it? It was. It was.

And this one, what's the most desperate culinary concoction you've resorted to so far? It just says, swan. But please don't say anything, because I'll be moved off the berth of my narrowboat. So thanks to listeners. For those, we will be passing them on to Heston Blumenthal. We will. Now, finally, it seems that everybody from the monarch downwards likes to compare our current situation with the Second World War. Although obviously, being British, we like to compare any situation with the Second World War.

One result of the Queen's broadcast was that Vera Lynn's Will Meet Again suddenly shot 830 places up the iTunes chart to number 22 and Coral have it 2-1 to be the biggest song of the year. This news has Jess Robinson swinging straight into action. Well, we're three weeks into lockdown and the unthinkable is starting to happen. People are actually missing their working lives. But as Her Majesty reminded us all on Sunday,

now is the moment for some Blitz spirit. You will eventually escape your families again. You will return to your offices again. And yes, you'll commute again. You'll be squeezed into that train with your face in a fellow traveler's armpit. Thin, slimming, sordid. You'll be hot and coarse and late in that way you love to hate.

But until that day, let's make the most of it. Take it away, the Andrex sisters. Oh, set up your laptop in the downstairs loo and zoom, zoom, zoom. No matter if your partner wants to work there too. Sure, there's loads and loads of room. We're all in this together. Flush away the doom and gloom. It's one big party in the downstairs loo

Let's zoom, zoom, zoom Anyhow, it'll soon be time for your fortnightly shopping trip Good luck with that Best of luck as you head into town Let's hope there's something still left on the shelves Keep your distance

and keep your head down In the shops it's everyone for themselves Keep on smiling, everyone's for piling And frankly I no longer give a damn There'll be plenty of stuff to go round As long as you like condensed milk and spam Yum, yum Quite right

And now for the highlight of one's afternoon Listen for his fan a-comin' down the street And now for the highlight of one's afternoon. Listen for his fan a-commin' down the street And look out the window for a special treat So dedicated to his task And you feel like you know behind his little face mask There is a smile sublime who makes you sing in rhyme It's the Cutie Pie Delivery Guy from Amazon Prime What a way to pass the time

Dreamin' bout the Cut beauty guy, delivery guy from Amazon Prime. The Now Show is brought to you by BBC Studios Productions in association with Relaxo, the soothing drink for people who can't get their audio software to work properly. It stars Steve Pott and Hugh Dennis, who are currently not appearing in Vaudeville or indeed anywhere. It featured George Voiceman, Foraker's, and leading lady of laughter, Gemma Arrowsmith, along with those sultans of stand-up zoe lyons and scott bennett musical maestros were jess robinson and alex silverman the script was written by the cast with additional wisecracks from gareth gwynn

catherine brinkworth simon alcock and alex healy the head honcho was adnan ahmed till next series this is the now saying, stay tuned and stay safe. Basically, we're just sick and tired of the same old relationships we see on TV, rom-coms and social media. So we're chatting to fellow comedians and fellow couples to go beyond the identikit image of romantic relationships and discover the how and why we stick with the people we love. So come over, take a listen and subscribe to You'll Do on BBC Sounds.