‘Speaking with a smile’ | Colin Fitz

As Comedy Knights celebrates its 10th anniversary, veteran comedian/radio presenter COLIN FITZ looks back at his own formative, comedic influences (some of which may actually surprise you…)

Colin Fitz
Colin Fitz

The title of Jo Caruana’s commemorative book - “You’ve been watching” - is a (no doubt intentional) reference to the 1970s British comedy-series, ‘Are You Being Served?’ Elsewhere, your repertoire seems replete with various other TV references from the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s: including Italian comedy (eg, Fantozzi); and even Japanese anime (Goldrake, etc). Basically, these are all a legacy of the rich pop-cultural diversity, that our generation was exposed to back in the day. How much of your own stage-persona would you say was actually shaped by those early television influences?

First of all: I’m really glad you asked that question… because not many people ever mention this. But in this respect, at least: we must be among the luckiest generations to have ever lived!

I mean… we had this whole melting-pot of incredible cultural influences, right there in our own sitting-rooms; and not only did we get to watch Japanese cartoons dubbed into Italian – and, later, American cartoons that were remakes of Japanese anime (like ‘Guardians of Space’, in the 1980s) - but we also watched them with our own unique Maltese sensibility… with its Arab roots; and with the massive influence of the British era. Not so much now, perhaps. But back then? Absolutely…

In the 1970s and 1980s, for instance, TVM would show all the latest British comedy – ‘Fawlty Towers’, ‘The Two Ronnies’, and so on – extending to ‘The Black Adder’ in the 1990s. And then, when VHS came in, we finally got to watch Monty Python (because those films weren’t allowed to be shown at cinemas, when they first came out.)

And to me, in the 1990s: discovering Monty Python was an absolute revelation. I remember renting a video called ‘The Quest For the Holy Grail’, and thinking to myself: “I’m not sure, ta. I don’t know any of these comedians… wait, isn’t that the guy from Fawlty Towers?”

And then, suddenly, this whole world of Monty Python opened up to me: around twenty years after everywhere else in the world…

So yes: undeniably, it was a massive influence on me, personally. And also, I would say, on other members of Comedy Knights: Pia, certainly; and of course, Alan Montanaro: who is known for doing all the ‘goose-stepping’, ‘legs-in-the-air’ stuff we associate with John Cleese…

I, on the other hand, am sometimes told that I remind people of either Eric Morecambe, or Ronnie Barker, or a combination of the two…

That’s high praise, indeed…

Yes, it is! Absolutely. But when I deliver a line, and give the audience a characteristic ‘blank stare’… that’s something I got directly from Ronnie Barker. But then, I also have a bit of the ‘Fantozzi’ in me: the sort of ‘gormless’ facial expression he puts on, whenever something goes wrong…

And even some of those Japanese cartoons found their way into the mix. The way, for instance, that ‘Ataru’…

Hang on: you mean ‘Ataru Moruboshi’?

That’s right: from “Lamu: La Ragazza Dallo Spazio”…

Crikey, that brings back memories…

Hux? But remember how Ataru would sometimes commit a faux-pas, around his girlfriend… and suddenly goes ‘DGNGNG!’ [Emulating ‘electrocution’ effect]? And you get this cartoony shot of him, stunned, with one leg up in the air, and snot dripping out of his nose? 

Obviously, I don’t do EXACTLY the same thing, on stage: but it’s all undeniably part of what shaped the way I generally act. And there’s a lot more I could add the list. Bud Spencer and Terence Hill were another massive, MASSIVE influence. And so, too, was Benny Hill – though he’s maybe not so ‘fashionable’, nowadays. But what Benny Hill excelled at - like so many other British comedians - was his sense of ‘self-deprecation’. That’s something I picked up from him, and others, too.

Then, there was the American influence: when I watched ‘Airplane’, at the age of around 11… and later, ‘The Naked Gun’ … it was like: ‘Wow! A whole new world of comedy just opened up, before me…’

But on top of all these international influences, I was also interested in the Maltese comedians: Johnny Catania; Joe Izzo; and especially, Charles Clews. I would listen to Maltese radio comedy shows a lot; and because I lived in Gwardamanga at the time, I sometimes went to the Radju Malta studios, to attend a recording of shows like ‘Saqsieni Ghoxrin’…

On the subject of the late Charles Clews: when I interviewed Toni Sant, he told me that Clews’ own main influences included the likes of ‘Laurel and Hardy’…

Yes, that’s another thing. Back in the 1980s, TVM would still show Laurel and Hardy films on Sundays… and even Harold Lloyd shorts, every day of the week! So in a sense, you can extend the influences all the way back to the 1920s and 1930s, if you like…

This brings me to another question: this cultural ‘melting pot’ you have so evocatively described, arguably doesn’t exist anymore. Younger generations will not instantly recognize names such as ‘Benny Hill’ or ‘Bud Spencer’– and even less, I would imagine, ‘Eric Morcambe’, or ‘Ataru Moruboshi’. Are you concerned that those influences may be ‘lost’, on a growing segment of Maltese audiences?

In the case of Comedy Knights: not really, no. Because while Pia and myself – and also Alan, obviously; and even Jo Caruana, who (while being one of the youngest of the group) is half-British – were all brought up on a diet of classic British comedy, and other shared influences… the same is not really true for all the others.

Wesley Ellul, for instance, is Maltese-Canadian; Marc Cabourdin is half-French; so they have influences of their own.  Chris Dingli and Steve Hili are both heavily influenced by British comedy: but more by the recent ‘stand-up’ phase, than by 1970s TV. And our youngest member is James Ryder: who’s a Tic-Toc generation guy. So – apart from maybe a few references from his dad – he wasn’t exposed to any of that stuff, at all...

.. but then, he brings the Tic-Toc generation perspective to the mix. So it’s not as though you NEED to be familiar with any specific influences, to enjoy the show.

Another thing is that our target audience – which started out as the Sliema middle-aged/elderly audience; and picked up younger people along the way – are precisely the sort of people who hark back to that era, anyway.  They expect comedians to act like John Cleese on stage: and go ‘berserk’, at the tiniest of things…

On that note: the Comedy Knights brand – with its (mostly) British influences; and tailored for a such a specific audience – hints at a sort of cultural ‘divide’ in the local theatre scene: between comedy for the English-speaking crowd; and then – separately – comedy for the much-vaster Maltese-speaking audience. First of all, do you agree with that (admittedly very generic) assessment?

Well, yes. Up to a point it’s inevitable, really. There are always going to be ‘different audiences’; not just when it comes to language, but also to age.

For example: when Stand-up Comedy was first introduced in around 2011, or thereabouts… it was mostly for very small, young-ish audiences, in very small venues – such as Muddy Waters in Balluta; or the Hard Rock Café in Paceville - and if it was mostly in English, it’s because the people who first started it up were mainly foreigners living in Malta; and their target audience included ex-pats, as well as English-speaking Maltese.

But the audience grew, over the years. And so did the venues: with stand-up acts now even being held at the Manoel Theatre…

So there’s an audience for all that; and there’s also an audience for [Maltese-language] shows such as ‘Zoo’ (which became ‘Bla Kondixxin’); and TV programmes like ‘Min Imissu’, or ‘Simpatici’… which - while not being my own kind of humour - I acknowledge as worthy additions to Maltese television comedy.

And in a sense: I myself have straddled both worlds. This year, I took part in ‘Il-Kbir Ghadu Gej’ [the Freddie Portelli-based musical]; and director Sean Buhagiar is very open to international comedy influences; but he also has a sensitivity towards Maltese comedy, as well. So ‘Il-Kbir Ghadu Gej’ was a mixture of both… and I acted with people from both ‘worlds’, so to speak. 

You also broadcast in Maltese on the radio…

Yes, there’s that too…

Which, if you don’t mind, brings me to a slightly more personal question. Which of those two worlds are you more comfortable in? I myself, for instance, was brought up in an English-speaking environment; with Maltese as a second language. Was it the same in your case? The other way round? And either way: how did you acclimatize to both worlds, so successfully?

Let me put it this way: the first school I went to was St Joseph’s in Sliema: where we were told, ‘Don’t speak Maltese; you have to speak in English’. For secondary school, I went to the Junior Lyceum in Hamrun… in 1984: the year of the [teachers’] strike.

It was there that I learnt to speak fluent Maltese: to the point where, today, I feel it’s almost as good as my English. But if my English is slightly better… it’s mainly because of all those TV programmes we’ve been talking about: all those comedians, whose speech-patterns I would impersonate, and try to imitate in daily life.

That – more than family, or school – was what made English my ‘first language’. Let’s just say that I had a sheltered upbringing; and rather than play football out on the street, I would sit at home and watch a LOT of (mostly British) TV.

In any case: English was very important to me, when I started working. I always wanted to work in radio; and out of all the job opportunities that suddenly opened up [with broadcasting pluralism in the 1990s] the one I applied for was at Frank Salt’s Island Sound… specifically, because it was going to broadcast in English.

Eventually I started doing occasional plays in Maltese; and then – after spending some time in the UK, and returning in the early 2000s – the first job I was offered was as a radio presenter with Radio 101. Which meant I had to go back behind a microphone: this time, presenting in Maltese…

Was that a daunting prospect, at the time?

It was a bit, at first. I was sort of ‘thrown in at the deep end’; so I had to learn on the job, pretty damn quick. To give you an idea… on my early broadcasts, there would be gaps of dead-air lasting three or four seconds, while I’m sitting there thinking: ‘X’inhi il-kelma ghal ____?’

After a while, though, you get the hang of it; and today, I think I’m considered a fairly ‘decent’ Maltese-language radio presenter: even if I am sometimes told – when speaking Maltese to people, face to face - that my accent, or delivery, ‘sounds exactly like on the radio’…

… which I find sort of ‘offensive’ myself, to be honest. But never mind…

Hang on, that’s an interesting point you raised there. You mean to tell me that people actually expect you to sound different ‘in real life’, than on the radio? And on that subject: do you yourself see any difference between your own natural state, and the persona (if any) you adopt while speaking on air?

There IS a slight difference… but only a very slight one. You do have to structure words in a certain way: for instance, you always have to try to end your sentences with a certain… ‘oomph!’, if you know what I mean. Or to somehow forge a link between what you’re saying, and the next song, or interview, or whatever…

.. and you also have to make sure, on the radio, that most of time – unless you’re talking about the funeral of the Pope, of course – you’re ‘speaking with a smile’. There has to be an uplifting tone to your voice, at all times.

But I tend to do that in my daily life, anyway. I’m quite a jolly fellow, when all is said and done. So what you hear on the radio is… me, basically. Except that, on the radio, there’s a slight ‘calibration’: my voice will be deeper, and my sentences a lot more structured… but I’m certainly not going to speak to you one way, to your face; then go on air, and suddenly start speaking completely differently.

So it’s not like the job of an actor, then: you don’t just ‘slip into a role’…

That’s an interesting way of putting it. On that level… well, yes, I suppose. On certain programmes – like if it’s a ‘party set’; and I have to play the part of a ‘cool DJ’, that matches all the ‘cool songs’ I’ll be playing… then perhaps I’ll end up saying things I wouldn’t normally say, in everyday conversations. (Like: ‘Feel the beat, man!’ That sort of thing...)

Other than that, however: no, it’s still just me you’re listening to. If I’m not feeling well, on a particular day… I’m going to just blurt it out, at some point during the show.  And while I might phrase things differently, on air: I’m still not going to say anything into a microphone, that I wouldn’t also say in real life.

Having said all that: I want it to be put on record, that I’m also the happiest I’ve ever been, to now be working at Campus FM. As people know, I’ve worked on quite a number of stations in my time: Island Sound, Radio 101, Calypso, XFM… but moving to Campus FM - for me, at this stage in my life - was like ‘finding my niche’. Not only is it wonderful to be working at University; but I’ve been given space to produce entertaining music programmes – which is what I’m probably best-known for – and also, to do ‘discussion/interview shows’ of my own.

In short, I’m going to be 50 next year; and I think I’ve found this ‘alignment’ in my life, where I wake up in the morning… and actually look forward to going to work.

And I just want you to put that on the record for me, if you don’t mind…