All in the family
WORDS Michael McVeigh
Fiona O'Loughlin grew up telling and re-telling her family's funny stories. Now she makes a living from them.
Every family has one, if they're lucky. They'll be the person at the
centre of the table, keeping everyone in hysterics as they tell the familiar
story about that holiday from hell all those years ago, or the Christmas
dinner that almost wasn't, or the time when Grandma got in trouble at
the supermarket.
Fiona O'Loughlin's stand-up comedy career began in this setting, at the
family dinner table.
'I was just sort of, unofficially, the keeper of stories in our house',
she says. 'It was always, "Oh, Fiona, tell them about the time Justin
was electrocuted".'
Growing up as one of seven children in the rural South Australian town
of Warooka gave her plenty of material to work with. The large family
also meant there were plenty of people to practise her storytelling skills
on.
'I know a lot of big Irish Catholic families gather around the piano',
she says. 'We didn't really have that going as much. Our culture really
was our kitchen table. And taking the piss out of each other.'
Over time, Fiona has managed to build up a loyal following. She's so open
about her family life that you can't help but think of her as a long-time
friend. It's a relationship she cultivates during her shows, saying things
like, 'Now, I'll tell you a bit about the kids, I know you've been worried
sick about them since the last Festival.'
It took time, but she's now far more comfortable sharing intimate details
of her life with complete strangers. She says it's a bit like therapy,
except in this instance the audience pays her to talk.
'I didn't know that you could do that when I started stand-up', Fiona
says. 'I love set-ups and gags, but it never really felt that natural
to me. I just felt funnier telling real stories.'
She often gets people coming up to her and relating their own stories
to hers, and a lot of people wonder if the stories she tells could really
have happened.
'I definitely exaggerate', she admits. 'To me, it's just painting a picture
with a broader brush. But every story I tell is based in truth. And some
of them are right to the letter-they really did happen.'
Although Fiona grew up wanting to be a performer, her career took a while
to get off the ground. She became a nurse when she left school, married
a dental technician, and moved to Alice Springs where she had five children.
The stand-up career began much later in life.
'This side of me just sort of came out. I couldn't shut it up', she says.
Fiona says she feels she's communicating to a particular cultural group.
Much like Italian, Greek or Jewish comedians can highlight aspects of
their cultural lives, Fiona says there's a particular Irish Catholic audience
that really relates to what she's talking about.
'I get a big Catholic base, there's no doubt about that', she says. 'Because
that's where it's set culturally, in a Catholic environment.'
Growing up, Sunday Mass was an important part of her family life.
'We were...you know that saying, 'More Irish than the Irish'? I think
it's coming from an immigrant family. It was almost our way of paying
homage to the terrible things that had gone on in Ireland', she says.
'I couldn't believe it when I was about 19, and some Irish cousins came
out. We were getting up-you see no one in our family ever said, "I'm
not going to mass." I'll never forget these Irish cousins, one of
them woke up and said, "Jesus, do you people still go to Mass?"
I wanted to stab her in the eye. We did it for you.'
Being so open and real on stage can sometimes strain relationships, Fiona
admits. 'Sometimes I come off stage, I'm like, "Oh my God, did I
really say that?" It's like a truth serum, that microphone.'
'I actually remember loathing my brothers and sisters, to the point that
I really hated them when I was a kid, and I talk about that', she says.
'I guess it's always got a soft end-I do love them now, I just hated them
when I was ten.'
On stage, Fiona saves the worst for herself. As a mother, she jokes, she's
about as lazy as you can get, admitting that she doesn't do any housework
between the hours of nine and four. 'I just don't see the point without
an audience.'
In reality, Fiona says she sometimes worries about the effect her lifestyle
might have on her two youngest children. She's away sometimes for months
at a time, and although she tries to bring her children along when she
can, there are long periods where she's away from home.
'I worry about the little ones a bit. Because the older ones had me home
a lot more. I didn't really throw my hat in the national ring, oh, really,
it was only six years ago. So they had a more normal mother.'
A lot of comedians find humour in religion, and Catholicism has been the
butt of many jokes over the years. But for Fiona, religion mostly provides
a setting for the stories.
'I'd still class myself as a practising Catholic. I'm not coming from
a place where I'm rejecting it. I do find that sort of comedy very funny.
But that's not my bag, you know.'
There's a self-deprecating aspect to Irish Catholic humour that Fiona
says must be a cultural thing.
'My mum and my mum's friends didn't have...well, self-help wasn't around
then', she says. 'I think they did it through laughing and telling stories.
I think it makes people feel better too.'
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