{COMEDY} Vir Das
JOSH A Harvard graduate and gross- out film star, Vir Das is a household name in India. Jay Richardson met him on his home turf before he tests himself at the Fringe
India is
A s the most populous and one of the fastest growing democracies in the world, embracing unprecedented change, not least in its demand for English-language comedy. No one sells more tickets globally than Indian-Canadian comic Russell Peters, while The Comedy Store’s year-old branch in Mumbai hosts some of the UK’s best headliners and local acts up to five nights a week. Next year’s Fringe promises an influx of comedy and theatre from the sub-continent, but at the vanguard is Vir Das, whose Walking on Broken Das arrives here for nine nights. ‘Edinburgh is a chance for me to pit myself against what’s out there, to see where I stand,’ the Harvard graduate explains. With a stand-up and character act initially developed in American strip joints and on cruise ships, he’s already toured England, Australia and Asia extensively. ‘A lot of people do comedy about India but they’re not from India, it’s a Kwik-E-Mart perspective. I want to provide a genuine view and maybe one on how we see the West. Did you know Indians are the only people who
L A V I T S E F 36 THE LIST 11–18 Aug 2011
can lovingly beat the shit out of you at drinking?’ Although supported by Rohan Joshi, he appears as his own opening act, a mystic with flowing hair delivering one-liners on Indian stereotypes: ‘to get the elephant in the room out of the room’. Nevertheless, it’s ‘a very personal show, in that I talk about
my grandmother, my grandfather and the first time I had sex.’
One of the first Indian stand-ups to tour theatres, I saw the 32-year- old perform his 60,000-plus selling show, History of India, at Mumbai’s Sophia Bhabha Auditorium in early July. Charting the ancient, Indus Valley civilisation’s path to contemporary political corruption, indicting The East India Trading Company and Liz Hurley along the way, this ambitious, cheek mic-presented lecture was inspired by Eddie Izzard’s theatrical shows and remains the only occasion I’ve stood for a national anthem before a gig.
Three days later, terrorist bombs ripped through Mumbai, a terrible reminder of the nation’s difficult ongoing progress. But that week, Das’ life was already changing dramatically. His role in a cult Bollywood comedy had transformed him from a comedian and promising actor, with bit-part appearances in ITV sitcom Mumbai Calling, to a bona fide film star, unable to walk his British bulldog, Mr Watson, without being stopped for photos. Like Zach Galifianakis, who cancelled his 2007 Fringe run, Das postponed his Festival debut last year to shoot a contrived caper in which three friends stumble into deep shit. Internationally, Delhi Belly