mostly david ephgrave

My mood has been very low over the past few weeks as I try to express and process the scale of unaccountability of a relative who's caused so much pain for years, yet won't acknowledge or understand it. What's horrible is they've crossed so many lines throughout my life that amount to emotional abuse, but their disordered mindset won't let them recognise this. They seem to believe that any negative comment about them is unjustifiable even if you can prove it, and can't process criticism healthily, yet they'll act disrespectfully and dishonestly all the time expecting no ramifications. And they won't do anything you ask, however small, to put things right and make you feel better. The most destructive thing I'm coming to terms with is how they have no concept of how they compromised my childhood, and therefore impacted my adulthood too. I've spent years in therapy adopting strategies to cope with my past and process the dichotomy of a pers

Trump's right about one thing: if you inject yourself with disinfectant, you won't die of coronavirus. I just watched a three-minute chunk of his recent COVID-19 task force briefing, in which he expounds his homespun, yet dangerous theories, then when called out by a journalist on the risk his riffing presents, jumps straight to his fake news bullshit and, frankly, I'm terrified. I know we know he's a fantasist with little aptitude for connecting his brain to his mouth before speaking, but for fuck's sake. He's the president of the most powerful country on the planet, and yet his recklessness doesn't border but crosses over to insanity, and this arrogance and ignorance could kill. Three years he's been office now, and it's beyond a joke. He's unstable, and he certainly isn't a genius. I wouldn't be surprised if someone cuts up his dinner for him, and forks it into his tiny, tiny mouth with a cry of, "Here comes the Air Forc

Today I was question master for a pub quiz that took place, not in an actual pub, but online, amongst a few friends and family. I'm usually reluctant to take part in such things, more through anxiety than not wanting to join in. You'd think my being an actor would cushion the panic, but it doesn't; perhaps I'd feel more comfortable with a proscenium arch above me, though this might look a bit pretentious. I expect that's why my wife asked me to ask the questions, as she knows I prefer to have a job than just be left open. It's not that I don't enjoy these social situations in reality, but put me onscreen without a purpose and my capacity for awkwardness is in full flight. And luckily I still had the questions to hand for a quiz I hosted previously, so all I had to do was update a few answers for 2020 to be ready to go. And in the end, it was a lot of fun. We hosted it via the video conferencing app Zoom, which led to a multi-split-screen of 24-l

Today, Glyn's and my sketch show 'Doggett & Ephgrave's Comedy Shorts' became available to watch online in its entirety for the first time since we shot it, back in 2011; after all, what's nine years between friends? While the film's by no means perfect, it documents one of our most productive periods, in which we wrote, shot and edited the 25-minute short in three weeks, in time to be shown as part of The Comedy Project's 2011 season at the Soho Theatre in London that April. The filming itself took about a fortnight with nearly every second of each day accounted for, and the editing took us right through to the early hours of the morning of the day we premiered it. We originally intended to host that night's show too, but we bowed out so we could keep a low profile in the lighting box because we were frankly exhausted (though I was still riding the audio levels throughout, so no punchlines were missed). The sketch show was a massive exer

We've had so many lovely messages from everyone who's donated to protect Mostly Comedy through its enforced break. At the point of writing, fifty-eight people have contributed to the fund , raising £1340, which is enough to pull us through the current crisis for a good few months at least. Without it, the risk of closure pressed worryingly, which put me in the frightening position of losing my income overnight. As it stands, I won't be paying myself for a while, but I can at least reimburse a few of the running costs I've been covering from my pocket. But it isn't just about the money, though that's important. It's the evidence of how many people care about the club and would be upset if it went. We knew it was popular as it usually sells well, but as it's grown and its audience has changed through the years, you start to assume it's just a commodity that serves a purpose at time-of-use and that's it. And if it closed, people would make

One thing I'm trying to do while in lockdown is get my voice back into shape. My voice goes through phases where I'm either actively keeping it ticking over with daily warmups because I'm using it regularly (like when I was playing Buddy Holly) or not touching it save a quick once-over before a one-off gig. I know the latter's inadvisable as it's expecting too much at little notice - particularly when I'm suddenly trying to hit top As in the Mostly Comedy theme, for example - but I know I'm not the only singer guilty of it. At least I'm not as bad as bands in the 1960s who'd class a coffee and a fag as sufficient prep. As a former actor/muso (and you'd best take that 'former' with a pinch of salt) I've found myself occupying a strange hinterland between real band-member and musical theatre performer as regards limbering up, where I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. Believe it or not, I'm a trained singer (la

If you're finding the coronavirus situation difficult, that's okay; It's not easy, by definition. At the moment, there are so many triggers to panic; if you're not worried about you or someone you care about getting ill, you're probably concerned about food or money. We've never had circumstances like this in living memory, so there's no precedent to reference; the nearest comparison is probably the second world war, but that's only glancingly similar. In the past few days, my plans for 2020 were upturned, with my main work focus - taking a new show to the Edinburgh Fringe - excised from the diary, with the other two festivals I'd been down for at least postponed if not cancelled too. On top of this, my day job - Mostly Comedy - is on indefinite hiatus, with a JustGiving page offering a temporary lifeline, but the longterm gameplan's concerning; the money we're raising will cover some of our running costs, but I'll be unpaid unt

For the second time in a year, I've turned to JustGiving to help me through a financial plight; last time it was to contribute to the funding-hole left for Edinburgh when my dad's estate was frozen after he passed away; this time, it's to bolster Mostly Comedy through the coronavirus situation. Like so many industries, the COVID-19 pandemic has thrown live events into crisis. Suddenly, the future of venues & gigs looks worryingly unsustainable. Sadly, that's the case for Mostly Comedy too. Glyn and I run the club as self-employed performers on a low income. As it stands, Mostly makes just enough money to sustain each consecutive event and our running costs, but its survival relies on (1) the gigs going ahead, and (2) our taking little money from it. And when the money isn't there, we plug the gap. Until our shows can continue, the club has no money coming in (our ticket provider holds all funds until a week after each show). Meanwhile, our running c