Comedy
Interview
Eric Rushton is a defender of a Wetherspoons breakfast
The comedian on why he’ll happily choose a Spoons meal and how getting stuck in a lift with his personal trainer might be a great opportunity
The first thing audiences will learn about Eric Rushton on his Innkeeper tour: he landed a pretty coveted role in his school nativity. However, he believes that the story has other unsung heroes.
“The first two innkeepers are more underrated. They go to one, they’re like, “Absolutely no chance, no room in here.” They go to another, “No mate.” The third one they go to is like, “No, but you can use the stables or whatever.” The third one is the one people remember, but the first two are actually better because they’ve got boundaries. They’re just like, “Absolutely not. I’m running a business here.””
Innkeeper is Rushton’s biggest tour yet. Despite the great reviews, however, he’s still learning to shout about his success.
“It feels a bit like bragging. Even when I’m like, “The tour’s going well,” I’m like, what a dickhead. If I was just talking to my friend and about how the tour was going, I’d probably focus on the negatives first. But you can’t do that in an interview promoting it, can you?”
Instead, we’re focusing on Wetherspoons food, Oasis, and nightmare first date scenarios. What else are you going to do when you’re stuck in a lift?
Who would you most like to be stuck in a lift with?
Is it bad to be stuck in a lift with your hero? You might give a bad impression. One of my heroes is Larry David, who wrote Curb Your Enthusiasm and Seinfeld. I don’t know how different his on-screen persona is versus off-screen – it seems similar from interviews and stuff like that – but he’s very irritable. He complains a lot, which I love, but it might crush me mentally, if I’m the person he hates in the situation, and then I see he’s written something about being stuck in a lift, and it’s about this annoying guy he was stuck with. That could really hurt me. How long am I stuck for?
Would it change your answer?
Maybe. Half an hour is a good amount of time – but then maybe, if it was actually longer, you’d get past the awkwardness, and you’d stop being self conscious after a while, you’d actually have a really deep chat. For the first half hour I would get only surface answers to things, but then if we were stuck for, like, four hours, he’d be telling me stuff he’s never brought up in interviews.
Then on the other hand, one of my friends. Finley Christie, who’s another comedian, we’re really good friends. I think he’s quite a positive person as well. He wouldn’t really panic in the situation, and we’d just keep it light for a few hours.
Then a third option – it might not appear so yet, but I’ve started weightlifting. I’m getting into it. I started in January with a personal trainer. I have one session a week, and then I do a couple on my own. Maybe I would be stuck with the personal trainer. He would give me a free session with some bodyweight exercises. We could do some spots. Can I choose whether he, like, just happens to be holding dumbbells as well? So there’s weights in there with us? And also in that time I could get a lot of insights about nutrition and what protein I need.
Have I got Wi-Fi in this lift? Because then maybe I just want to be stuck with ChatGPT. I feel like I need more information. What sort of building am I in?
Let’s say a standard office building in London, fairly high up.
Probably no Wi-Fi. Does anyone ever want to be stuck with a group? What if I’m stuck in the lift with Diversity, the dance troupe, and they just make a new routine in the lift with me as part of them? I would love to learn to dance.
Who would you least want to be stuck with?
A bad one would be – but this could also be great if it works out – a first date from a dating app. Like a hinge first date. Maybe that’s what you’re in the lift for. Say you’re going up in the lift to the bar, the date has arrived with you in the list. It’s your first meeting. If it’s a three, four-hour situation that could really make or break. That could either be the best person to be stuck in a lift with or the worst. The best if it turns out to be the love of your life. The worst probably if it’s anything less than that, even if they’re just all right.
What’s the weirdest interaction you’ve ever heard of the famous person?
I didn’t even interact with him – and he won’t even remember this – but it made me think how weird it would be to be in his situation. I was on a train, and there was a bunch of comedians on this train back from a comedy festival in Wales. James Acaster was there, and he had so many people shouting him, like, “James, tell us a joke! James, be funny!” That’s a situation I would hate.
What’s the last gig you went to?
I went to see Oasis in the summer in Manchester. They were incredible. I love Oasis, and never saw them live before that. It was just a beautiful moment. The only negative was it was incredibly hot. It was during a heat wave. I was really enjoying it but half dying as well.
Maybe they’d be great to be in the lift with, both of them. But then that could also be the best or the worst, because they’re I love them, but they can be kind of arrogant, which is funny, but then it might be like the Larry David thing, where take the piss out of me, and I feel bad. Also they could start scrapping.
What’s your most controversial food opinion?
I like eating at Wetherspoons. And most people would think that’s horrible food. I’ll have a spoons breakfast. I had brunch the other day brunch at a fancy, hipstery cafe, and the beans were just weird, and the sausages were weird, and I’m sure it was for more refined palates, but to me it all just tasted a bit weird. And it was about 15 quid. Give me a five pound spoons breakfast. I would genuinely prefer that. I’d be having a better time.
What’s the worst advice you’ve been given?
I’m quite suggestible. If someone gives me advice, I’m bad at ignoring advice, which I think is a bad thing. People are already giving you suggestions in comedy, and no one really knows anything, but I’ll really get in my head like, “Oh, does everyone think I’m bad because I do this thing?” I think you should just ignore most advice and try do what you like doing and enjoy it and work really hard. Obviously, there is good practical advice out there. But any artistic advice, unless it’s from a really trusted person, just gets me in my head. So basically, the worst piece of advice I’ve had is any unsolicited advice I’ve ever had.
Do you have any superstitions?
I go through streaks of wearing the same clothes for my gigs. If it goes well and I’m trying a new jacket out, I’ll kind of feel like that jacket the secret to the gig going well, when really it’s probably nothing to do with it, and then I’ll wear that jacket all the time.
Something else I do which is a bit cringe is if I’m scared of a gig, I imagine the world’s ending tomorrow, and this is the last chance to go out and have some fun.
What did your 12-year-old self think that you’d be doing now?
I think I was very interested in comedy from an early age, but not necessarily performing. I used to watch a lot of sitcoms. I thought maybe I’d grow up to be a comedy writer.
I also used to be the kid that sold sweets on the playground. Real entrepreneurial. I used to love watching The Apprentice, so around 12 I thought I’d be a businessman as well. No particular industry, just selling stuff. I told off a couple of times about my sweet business, but I was a good student, so they kind of turned a blind eye a little bit. I’d be going into school with three full bags of chocolate bars and Coke and Lucozade Sport. I made 50 quid profit a day at one point.
Eric Rushton’s Innkeeper is currently touring – find tickets here
