Everybody hates Jim Jefferies
Sick, repellent, and an accident waiting to happen
Australian-born comedian Jim Jefferies has been called “Britain’s most offensive stand-up comic” by Q magazine, a reputation that’s reinforced not only by his material—which makes liberal use of topics like rape, incest, abortion, and his own bout with what he lovingly terms "dick cancer"—but his ever-growing list of enemies. The Christian Voice has called Jefferies “sick and repellent,” he’s engaged in a very public feud with Sharon Osbourne after insulting daughter Kelly during 2008’s NME Awards, and, most famously, he was punched in the head while doing a 2007 show at the Manchester Comedy Store, footage of which has topped 300,000 hits on YouTube. These incidents have arguably given Jefferies his biggest Stateside exposure—that, and the recent première of his new HBO stand-up special, I Swear To God. In advance of his four-night stand at Comedy Works—which starts Thursday, Jan. 7—The A.V. Club spoke with Jefferies about the pressures of being a jerk, how he feels about having douchebags for fans, and why comedians who try to make a point are all wankers.
The A.V. Club: Which was a bigger boost to your career—getting punched or the feud with the Osbournes?
Jim Jefferies: The punch to the head. The Osbournes thing, in all fairness, I manufactured that a lot more. Every time they sent me an e-mail, my management was very quick to go, “Really?” But yeah, I don’t think Sharon Osbourne is that bright. She is ruthless. It’s funny, because I bumped into Kelly Osbourne at an airport the other day. I had to keep behind the pylon. [Laughs.] Then we ended up on the plane together. Just for the record, she was in economy and I was in first class, because HBO was paying.
AVC: You’ve also been beaten and robbed, and dodged bombs in Iraq and Afghanistan. Do you ever feel like a target?
JJ: A little bit. I do think that in all my travels in all these weird countries, and after being punched, and with all these people who wait for you after a gig to have a go at you, that it’s only a matter of time before I get seriously injured. I’m not going to start talking like I’m John Lennon or anything. But if you keep gigging every day and upset enough people, and get on enough planes and drive enough miles, some accident somewhere is bound to happen. Kind of sad, really.
AVC: Is there any discernible difference in the ways American and British crowds respond to you?
JJ: British crowds are a bit more rowdy. There’s an image of Americans that you yell a lot more—all that “Woo! Yeah!” stuff. But that’s not true. And in American clubs you have waitresses serving you at the tables, which is odd. I find that very distracting. So I don’t have problems with American crowds—just the logistics. Also, I find that Americans, if you say something they don’t like, will complain at the end of the show. If British people don’t like something, they’ll stand up in the middle and let you know—or maybe even punch you.
AVC: Do you feel a lot of pressure being called “Britain’s most offensive stand-up”?
JJ: There’s a little bit pressure, but it’s weird because I’m not even that offensive. People want to label you, and I’m happy to have that title because it sells tickets. But what happens when we put that on posters is that sometimes people are just a tiny bit disappointed, like, “Awww, I thought I was gonna be more upset.” Which is a bit frustrating, because it’s like, did you come along to laugh or to be grossed out? There are some people—especially 18- or 19-year-old lads—who just want to see me say “fisting” and “cunt,” and they want an abortion joke followed by a joke about rape, and then one about raping the aborted baby. If I can write a good joke about that, then sure, I’ll do one. But that’s not the be-all end-all.
AVC: You have drawn criticism for attracting crowds of what the British call “chavs,” but over here we just call them “douchebags.” How do you feel about having them for fans?
JJ: [Laughs.] Look, it’s like when I went and saw AC/DC. It would have been a good concert if it weren’t for all the scumbags, but that didn’t mean that AC/DC didn’t rock the fuck out of the place. And most of these people aren’t 24-hour meatheads. It’s like, you might have a guy in your office who seems completely normal, but he goes to fetish clubs and dresses in rubber on the weekend. You’ll see some guy who’s like, “Do a fucking pedophile joke! Do some rape jokes!” and then you meet him afterward and he’s like, “Yeah, I got two kids and I work for the bank.” I dig that people go to the shows for some kind of release.
AVC: You’ve made a point of saying that your comedy has no point, but some critics have tried to assign that very point to it—that it’s meant to be cathartic. Do you think of it like that?
JJ: No, I don’t think most comedy has a point. I find comedians that try to have a point to be a bunch of fucking wankers. All these comics trying to talk about politics, they all end up sounding the same. It’s always just someone going, “Wasn’t George Bush a knob?” Yeah, he was a knob, but that’s the whole thing with comedy—I’m not converting anyone. George Carlin never converted anyone to atheism. All he ever did was confirm it to other people who were already atheists. I can get up onstage and say, “The government’s shit and God doesn’t exist,” but I’m already speaking to people who agree with me. No one has ever changed their mind because of what a stand-up comic’s said. All comics do is we say something slightly more eloquently than you can. That’s why people come up and go, “You say what I’m too afraid to say.” No, it’s not that you’re afraid to say it; you just don’t how to put it in good words.
But this whole idea of “I’m changing opinion through my jokes” is a lot of fucking rubbish. My primary job is to make people laugh, and if they walk away saying, “That was insightful,” then I’ve lucked out, but it wasn’t my intention. It’s mostly young comics who haven’t even been paid yet who come up with, “I’m gonna change the world, man. I’m saying stuff the government’s not going to want to hear.” Like they’re really worried about you, fuckface. You and your leather jacket and long hair—how about you do the dishes? Wash yourself first, then try to change the world. You know, Bill Hicks has a lot to answer for. [Laughs.]
