Two Stand-ups Sit Down to Write a Play                                               Home ... at last

What happens when two stand-up comedians turn their pens to a theatre plot instead of a punch line? If you attend summer’s Fringe entry, Playing With Matches [2008], you’ll find out. London comics Tim Condon and Paul Merrifield were encouraged to put their heads together by Merrifield’s incisive wife, Sophie. “Hey,” she said. “Why don’t you two idiots write a play?” In comedy, that kind of comment is high praise. “Preview audiences have been laughing all the way through,” says Merrifield. “We’ve had complete strangers tell us they’ve heard good things about our show, and are excited to see it for themselves.”
They meet
Two years ago, this odd couple – Tim and Paul, not Sophie and Paul – didn’t know each other. Following a play's closing night at the Arts’ Project, Condon crashed the cast party hosted by the Merrifields. Tim and Paul spent more than an hour ignoring the other guests as they shared notes on comedy. A few weeks later, Condon responded to a posting online for comics looking to travel to Hamilton venues. He did not know he was emailing Paul. It seems these two idiots were destined to meet, and maybe this Fringe show is the reason.
They write
Merrifield, a right winger (not the hockey kind), and Condon, a leftie, don’t agree on much as far as politics go. Condon hugs trees that Merrifield would rather cut down. The irony is that by day, Merrifield tends the grounds at London’s beloved Springbank Park. “London hates sunshine. What’s with all the stupid trees?” he rants. “Sure, trees are pretty … until they fall on your power lines!” Condon sees the humour, although he disagrees, which is a core requirement of most comedians. “You have to be comfortable as Devil’s Advocate. Comics know that everything is flawed. Leno goes after Democrats and Republicans in the same monologue. Creating this play let me see things from the other side of the fence.”
They get a woman
Midway through the process, the duo discovered something missing from their play – a legitimate female 'voice'. Enter Sandy Ross, a woman who earns her daily bread writing business copy. More than up to the challenge, Ms. Ross takes the piece to even higher heights, providing among other things insight into the depilatory habits of the fair sex. We won’t ruin the very funny gag about what happens when leg bleaching turns ugly. She also tries to take credit for a lot of the unrefined language peppered throughout the script. “Don’t let the dimple fool you,” she winks. 
You enjoy their Fringe folly
Playing with Matches, which opens Aug. 2 and runs through Aug. 10, takes shots at everything: from sex to Canadian icon David Suzuki. “We think this play has something to offend everyone,” Merrifield quips. Condon adds: “Some comedian once said that if you’re not offending someone, you’re probably not very funny either.” This love story offers new ideas and twists on some old themes. Oh, take note that it contains some language that would make George Carlin blush. Actually, the writers have included only three of Mr. Carlin’s Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television, none of which are of the compound variety. As this play's Narrator says, “Those of you with sensitive ears may want to stuff your programs into them.” That said, this play is about more than a few words you can’t say on TV. It’s a look at life through a different lens, and there’s a love story at its core like none you’ve seen before.

by Tim Condon