Thom Beckett

Last night, my wife and I went to see My Favorite Murder live at the Hammersmith Apollo (blah blah “Eventim” - it’s still the Hammersmith Apollo to me). Before I get on to reviewing the show proper, I’d like to comment on how strange I still find it that podcasts sell out places like the Hammersmith Apollo. It still only feels like a few years ago that when I mentioned a podcast the next part of the conversation would have to involve a discussion about what a podcast was, and how to get it. Granted, that time is actually over a decade ago now, but I’m getting old. It’s great that these shows have found an audience in the way they have, but I still find it weird.

Despite being a drag-along (their term for the partners of people who are brought along to live shows by the person who actually listens) I’d been well aware of the show for some time. Another feature of the podcast boom we’re living in is that, whereas I used to check out pretty much any podcast that anyone recommended, nowadays I spend more time begrudging unsubscribing from podcasts I rather like because I don’t have time to listen to them. True crime is not really a passion of mine. I have a passing interest in it, but not enough to try and squeeze the show into my listening habits. I came to the show having heard a couple of excerpts from my wife, but not really knowing much more. I mean, I’m not an idiot, I can work out what a true crime comedy podcast was likely to entail, but I hadn’t listened.

The format was what I expected. The presenters, Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark, were seated on stage, explaining the details of two murder cases (in this case both from the early 20th century) and joking about them. Put like that, it sounds tasteless, I accept, but it really wasn’t at all. There wasn’t anything mean about the show at all. The jokes mostly came at the expense things like of the ineptitude of the murderers and around the fringes of the story. I would also add that I fully accept that anything can be the subject of humour. The main issue is that the darker and more controversial the topic, the more skill is required of the comedians. Luckily, Karen and Georgia are hilarious.

I was expecting to have an enjoyable time, but to feel a little left out, knowing from experience that long-running podcasts build up such a history of in-jokes and stories that to someone late to the party they can be almost incomprehensible, let alone funny. That, though, was not my experience at all. I could spot the odd in-joke, and I’m sure there’s stuff I missed, but overall it felt much more like a comedy gig. All the more impressively, though, it was clearly almost entirely improvised. In (what I’ll call for now) “formal” comedy, improvisation on stage is often carefully coordinated prepared material. Take Eddie Izzard, for example, who can role out a show that feels like it’s been made up on the spot, but in fact is carefully prepared, with the “improvised” beats crafted into the show. My Favourite Murder quite clearly wasn’t like that. It was made up on the spot by two funny women.

In the show, they had a handful of notes about the murder in question, and had gathered some photos of the people involved. One shared the case, while the other commented, and then they reversed roles. At the end, in the “Hometown Murder” section, someone from the audience shared a murder from their own town. For us, Alice from Basingstoke, shared the case of Richard Markham, which I have to admit had passed me by when it occurred in 2003. For someone thrown up on stage in front of a massive crowd, she did an astonishingly good job telling the story.

Overall, it was a great experience. I’m not sure I’ve heard a louder crowd at the Apollo and I’ve seen a fair few gigs and comedy shows there. Communities that rise around shows like this can feel a little like a cult, and this shared a few of those features, but I came away glowing with the warmth of an excellent show and a uniformly lovely crowd.