The one-liner comedian and Mock the Week panellist hasn't had the easiest year. Back in April, Milton Jones was embarking on his HA!MILTON tour when he had a sudden prostate cancer diagnosis, forcing him to postpone his stand-up dates for surgery. Thankfully, in August, he announced he was cancer-free and resuming his current set of shows across the autumn. Following the live filming in London, Daily Express sat down with the youthful-looking 61-year-old to talk about his comedy career, how his Christian faith and sense of humour helped him through cancer's darkest days and a surprise second illness.
How early in your life did you realise you were funny?
I bumped into someone in the street recently from primary school who said, 'You didn't say much, but when you did it was quite funny.' I wasn't aware of that at the time. I was aware of being quite timid and not saying much. Originally, I wanted to be an actor because comedians when I was growing up were more like big guys with bow ties who told mother-in-law jokes. It wasn't until Saturday Night Live and things like that came along that suddenly it was a whole different thing, and what they used to call Alternative Comedy, which now, of course, is just comedy. That was interesting to me because I was still trying to be an actor, albeit a comedic actor, and I turned to stand-up because I reckoned I could get producers and directors to come and see me perform, and then maybe take me on. So I wasn't thinking of comedy as a job, but gradually it turned out, no one else wanted me to be an actor. I literally didn't have anything else I could do. So, I just had to keep going with stand-up. It wasn't until I sort of stuck my hair up and wore a silly jumper - when it was kind of going over to my acting side and I was playing a character - that it began to work. That was 30-35 years ago, and I'm still trying to become an actor.
How did one-liners become your thing?
I think looking back, I was so terrified I needed to get to the joke as quickly as possible so that people would laugh. And so if you put a lot of those together, you end up as a one-liner person. I mean, I'm not a storyteller, naturally. I'm just not. But you sort of try and do what you think you would find funny. And I just found myself writing jokes and crossing one or two words out just to make it even smaller. In retrospect, I think what I do is put cartoons in people's heads with surprise endings.
Aside from comedy, you're known for being a practising Christian. Did you grow up with faith?
My dad taught us to pray kneeling beside our beds, but it would always end up in a pillow fight, and that was the two sides of their parenting. Kind, gentle people with a strong faith, but they're always up for fun and silliness, and I like to think both wore off on me and my brother. I never believed that this was all an accident. It was just kind of 'What is God like?' Sort of holding the two truths of, 'I believe this is true and God is real, and I accept what Jesus has done for me, but I really don't understand a lot of it either.' There's a whole mystery element that, even as old as I am now, I possibly have more questions than I did at the beginning. But I still believe it, and it's way bigger than I thought it was as a child.
You're considered something of a clean Jimmy Carr. How do you navigate the world of stand-up, which isn't exactly known for its prudishness?
So let's be clear, not all laughter is good, in that it could be bullying, or it can be shock for the sake of shock, and not attached to a joke, actually. But sometimes Christians come to me and say, 'Oh, it's really lovely how you don't swear.' Well, that sort of makes me want to swear, in a way. But I think sometimes it's a cultural thing. A swear word in London might be an adjective in Glasgow. And, I mean, I don't do blasphemy. That I'm not going near because I don't out of respect... Comedians play with the truth often, and the truth overlaps with my faith. You know, I'm interested in what the truth is about, not only God, but living and life. I talk about death a lot, but I think it's in a Tom and Jerry sort of a way. I put an atmosphere out there that raises people's spirits in a positive way.
You've had a difficult year health-wise but thankfully are now cancer-free. How did your faith get you through the darkest days?
When you're diagnosed with cancer, God is the first person for a lot of people you go to saying, 'What's going on? Please get me out of this hole.' What's strange is there were no symptoms at all, it was just a random test. When doctors told me, 'I'm sorry you've got cancer', I was like, 'No I haven't.' With no symptoms, I thought, 'Well, what else have I got?' I can't pretend it was anything but frightening initially - especially telling your children. You feel like you're physically hurting them. And there was a bit in between where they weren't sure whether it had metastasised and spread. In the middle of the night, that's when you're sort of drowning in worst-case scenarios, even though you know other people have been in worse situations, but when it's you. And I literally haven't been in a hospital before or been ill in any way. I was praying and turning to God and saying, 'Look, this isn't what I was planning.'
The first thing I thought was that my days could be numbered here. But the first thing I thought when I was given the all clear was that my days ARE numbered and they're still numbered. And it was a massive wake-up call because you know in theory that everyone dies. But then, when you're looking down the barrel of a gun, suddenly it comes home, big time. And there were moments in the difficult phase where I felt God's peace. But then there were other moments where I was struggling, and not so much for what happens after death, but the process and the fuss and the you don't want to be a burden to your family or suffer loads of pain, actually.
Another thing is that you feel like, "I don't want to leave the party early. I want to see my grandchildren, or whatever it is that is up ahead. It was difficult. As I expected, my family and everyone around me were really solid people. And everyone was like, 'We're here for you.' As an introvert, I find that quite difficult because I'm suddenly the centre of attention and I found that uncomfortable. But at the end of the day, and I kept having to do this rather than doing it once, I'd say, 'I'm in your hands, God. And I'd rather not leave the party because I've got some things I'd like to do, but, I relinquish whatever it is in the future.'
After being declared cancer-free, you said you faced another health predicament?
There was another mix-up that was actually more dangerous than the first thing. A couple of weeks later, I had trouble breathing and was rushed to the hospital with a massive pulmonary embolism, which is clots on the lungs and heart - a rare side effect of the operation. Then the NHS sorted me out, and since then it's all been about trying to return to fitness. Not 100% yet, but back at work and getting there!
Has surviving cancer changed your perspective on life at all?
I never felt at any moment on my way out. I could have been, perhaps I never felt it. But I always felt there was more to do. I'm now more focused. I've stopped doing a few things or even seeing a few people, actually. My days are numbered. Who knows what the future holds? I just need to do things in the order of how important they are, instead of just seeing what happens during the day. I just realised how close to the cliff edge I am a lot of the time without really taking it in. And also, I suddenly realised how many other men had been through a similar thing. It's the second biggest killer for men.
It helped reprioritise everything, and made me think what actually the really important things are. And for me, the most important thing, ultimately, although I don't feel this every second of the day, admittedly, is to have a relationship with God and to carry on making sure I'm doing what He wants me to do. My relationship with God has deepened. I think when you have a near miss, you suddenly drive a bit more carefully and appreciate the things that are worth appreciating.
How did humour help you through the darkest days?
I'm surrounded by people who just make dark jokes and that's fine. That's what I'd do. One comedian said to me, 'Can I have your jokes?' Far better that than people tiptoeing around you. It was really interesting to watch the doctors because they clearly knew their stuff. Some of them were really good with bedside manner and some were terrible, just really awful saying things like 'Well, you may survive'. I'm sure they didn't mean it like that, but it didn't feel that good. People say, 'Oh, what a brave thing to be a comedian, standing up in front of people.' But the worst thing that can happen is no one laugh. However, if you're a doctor and you make a wrong decision, then it's a whole different kettle of fish. Those people who work in that field are the real heroes that make people's lives continue, let alone be better.
You're back touring throughout November. How are you finding the rigour of a one-man show?
My stamina is getting there. I used to do quite a lot of running and stuff. I could only run about a mile at the moment. My strength is not the same. I think I get slightly more tired in the evenings, but hopefully I could get that back. The first few shows I did back, I was exhausted after. I felt like an old man. But it's getting better, so hopefully I can reverse time.
Milton Jones is on tour with HA!Milton until 29th November and tickets can be booked here.
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