Mandy Nolans Soapbox: Unbranded

I’ll admit it. I was a Russell Brand fan. I thought he was funny. I thought the sexually rampaging lothario image was just a clever comedic persona. I thought he satirised the privilege and legacy of rock stars. I thought it was a joke. Turns out, that is the joke. It’s real. It’s the Jimmy Saville secret. 

Satire isn’t satire when it’s not satire. It seems Brand may have been just another predator hiding as they say, in plain sight. Yes, he was clever. But not for the reasons I thought. And I was fooled. A feminist groomed into thinking he was a harmless flirt. That because he wore eyeliner and heels that he was somehow less of a threat. Even he says in an interview that women think he’s gay, and then he’s in and next minute it’s: ‘pregnant’ ‘pregnant’ ‘pregnant’. 

I can’t believe we laughed at that. That I laughed at that. Comedy is a powerful and intoxicating tool. Charisma combined with humour is a Triple-A pass that gives men like Brand access to areas that should have been denied. 

I thought he was funny.

Most of my comedy colleagues couldn’t stand Russell Brand. He wasn’t revered in our industry as a comedy great, more of a comedy grate. So this week, when The Times released the story of his alleged sexual assaults there was more of a sense of, yup. We saw it. We knew it. We were just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

But I wasn’t convinced. I read his book. I saw one of his first shows in Australia. Then a more recent tour, after he’d morphed from comedian to wellness guru and truth seeker. It was in that show that I felt things weren’t quite right. I’m a comedian. I know how to twist the narrative. I know how to bring people on the journey. I know the feeling of the seduction. Of how to make a room love me. To leave with a feeling that they know me. And Brand knows that at a mega level. It would be hard not to go mad with the power. Not to groom your audience into not just buying your tickets, but your story. 

At the last show I saw, Brand was less funny. In fact he wasn’t funny at all. He was banging on with the ‘we are all one. There’s no disconnection. It’s not individuals, it’s all of us. We are one’. I live in Mullumbimby. Oneness is old news. Not to this crowd. It was a revelation. Brand would bang out some culty oneness stuff and then he’d show a video of himself being ‘unfairly’ treated by the press. While he was telling us ‘we were all one’ he only talked about himself. 

That annoyed me. As a comedian all I could see was that the show didn’t match the premise. And it was boring. For me that was the moment the mystique wore off. I wasn’t being cultivated. Halfway through the show I went to the toilet. There was another woman at the sink washing her hands. I said ‘Are you finding this hard?’ She was like ‘Yep, he’s a raging narcissist.’ 

I left thinking the same, wondering what happened. Now I know. 

He was creating his victim narrative, and selling tickets to his defenders.

So this week I felt groomed too. 

I’m tired of these stories. Of alleged abuse, and rape and entitlement. Of powerless women being disbelieved when they call out powerful men.

Yes this is a story about truth tellers.

Women. Maybe it’s time the world started believing us.