We sat down with Hasan to talk about his show, Death To The West (Midlands) . This story involves Big Tescos, why Saddam Hussein would have loved Drayton Manor, and – amidst a search for those pesky weapons of mass destruction – finding self-acceptance.
·Death To The West (Midlands) walks a fine line between satire, identity politics, and personal storytelling. What was the first moment or memory that sparked the idea for this show?
I was the only Muslim at my village’s primary school. After 9/11, someone asked the teacher: “Why did they crash the planes into the two towers?”. They replied “I don’t know, ask Hasan”. This show’s for you, Mrs Smith!
· You describe growing up in post-9/11 Britain with an Iraqi background – how has humour helped you process, or maybe even reclaim, some of the more absurd or painful experiences from that time?
Iraqi humour is so dark, I think because of the immense tragedy, brutality, and horror that characterises recent Iraqi history. Clichéd as it sounds, it’s a coping mechanism. The darkest story I’ve ever heard is one my Dad told me from his childhood in Baghdad. It’s unspeakably awful, but he delivered it as a joke. And even at the time, it got a laugh from me, so of course it’s in the show.
· There’s a unique energy in mixing Brummie charm with sharp political critique – how does your regional identity shape your comedy and how it lands with different audiences?
Brummies are so humble and funny, it’s such a wonderful place to grow up as an aspiring comic. Comedy is an industry that humbles everyone, it crushes and spits out those with any arrogance or pride about them. Brummies don’t do pride, hence why there’s so many brummy comedian role models to look up to: Jasper Carrott, Lenny Henry, Joe Lycett, Lindsey Santoro.
Doing our accent on stage, it buys me instant acceptance in some quarters. Audiences outside the capital are quite relieved I’m not some posh boy from north london when i start speaking fluent brummy.
· You’ve spoken out about the lack of diversity in the Footlights and sparked real change. How did that experience affect your confidence as a performer and your sense of purpose in comedy?
The biggest thing it did was give me a thick skin. I went from being a student comic to being quoted in The Telegraph, with people in the comments section saying “has he tried being funny?”, “woke mob have ruined comedy” etc. Brother, I beg you, come to a cambridge footlights show and watch some of the horrendous sketches I had to sit through at uni, you’d turn woke before the interval.
Your show is both personal and political, but also deeply funny – how do you decide what to include or leave out when drawing from your lived experience?
The hardest thing by far about this show has been deciding what to cut, there’s so much material about my dad especially that didn’t make it, he’s such an interesting and unintentionally funny character.
When i was 13, my Dad told me that “Shakespeare is an Arab” (pronounced “Shakhis-beer”), because, and I quote, “have you ever heard of another English person called “Shakespeare”.
I told my English teacher at school this, and the rest of the class immediately burst out laughing. Mr Burns saw I was close to tears and said “Uh… well, Hasan, I don’t think that’s quite right, but his wife was Spanish!”. Imagine, that story did NOT make the show’s final cut. Just buy your tickets now, for God’s sake.
· You’ve already had a sold-out run with 2 Muslim 2 Furious. What’s it been like stepping into your first solo hour – and what do you hope audiences take away beyond the laughs?
2M2F is so much fun, we’re doing the sequel at this year’s fringe too: “2M2F: Go Halal or Go Home”. That show, we hope, made people think “oh, they’re just like us”. I hope my solo show makes people think: “these arabs and brummies aren’t so bad after all…”.
Ticket and info:
https://www.pleasance.co.uk/event/hasan-al-habib-death-west-midlands