An interview with Christopher Hall
Why Christopher Hall Still Loves the Noughties
interview + written TAGEN DONOVAN
Christopher Hall has a fondness for the peculiarities of human behaviour. With a background in dance and musical theatre, he has developed an almost forensic eye for the mannerisms that distinguish one person from another. Behind his impressions is a genuine curiosity about people; he seems to take as much pleasure in getting to know them as he does in bringing their idiosyncrasies to life, often finding an entire character in the smallest of gestures.
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
Steeped in the cultural glow of the noughties, Hall's sketches have found an audience who recognise something of themselves in his characters. Nostalgia, however, is not the main character. Much of Hall’s material begins with an observation or passing thought, left to marinate through improvisation until he discovers what he calls the destination of the joke. Getting there, one suspects, is half the fun. With Pizazz, his latest live show, the observational lens turns a little closer to home. Drawing on his own experiences, Hall brings the spontaneity of his sketches into the less predictable territory of live performance, where each room brings its own particular energy. The audience becomes his scene partner; an unexpected turn one night may well become part of the performance the next.
Christopher Hall is on tour with his brand new show Pizazz until 18th November 2026. Tickets available HERE.
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
Tagen Donovan
Before comedy became the path, where did you grow up and what were you drawn to? When did performing start to feel like something you might actually pursue?
Christopher Hall
I grew up in Essex and Cambridgeshire with a 2 year period in Philadelphia where my little sister was born. I was always drawn to dancing and performing, I knew every ‘Steps’ dance routine and would entertain anyone who would sit still for long enough to be coerced into being an audience member. After a couple of phases of wanting to be a teacher or a vet, I made the decision to try and give dancing a shot at around 15.
Watching your skits, there seems to be an encyclopaedic understanding of people and their mannerisms behind them. Which details in people tend to stay with you?
I’ve always enjoyed and loved perfecting impressions. I love finding the affectations and intonations that make someone somebody. I’m sociable and enjoy being with and getting to know people so reading them and finding out what makes them tick and connect is something I think I have always been good at. There’s so much humour in big out-of-this-world characters but possibly even more in the everyday, as that is the common human experience that we can all share.
You trained as a dancer and musical-theatre performer long before moving into comedy. How much of that training still sits in your body when you perform now?
I carry a lot of my training with me. I am very physical on stage and often have choreographed movements to accompany certain bits and punchlines. It also helped with my endurance during festivals like Edinburgh and Melbourne, doing numerous shows in close proximity.
When something you’ve observed starts to become a character, how much are you consciously shaping and how much comes instinctively?
A lot of my material starts as improvisation. I can take something from real life and mull it over in my head for a little while, but the best thing to do is give myself a starting off point and then just keep filming until I find the destination of the joke.
You can move from yourself into a character and back again almost instantaneously. What’s actually happening in your head during that switch - are you thinking ahead, or does it happen before you’ve consciously decided to do it?
There’s a certain amount of preparation that happens before but then in the doing is when the character comes mostly. I’m very practical in my learning and creating so performing the character, even if it isn’t perfect at first, is the best way to realise it. When it’s there, it’s there and it can happen pretty instantaneously.
Lockdown gave you an unusual kind of creative freedom: you were making things before anyone really knew what to expect from you. Do you ever miss creating without an audience in mind?
Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think it would be nice to put a new idea out without so many eyes watching, but I’m very lucky my audience have been very loyal and supportive. Even if the whole follower count doesn’t love a particular video, someone out there always seems to, and I think, ‘well Claire, this one was just for us’, and I move on to tomorrow’s idea.
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
There’s an immediacy to your video sketches. How important is preserving that spontaneity when you’re editing and putting them together?
I think it’s good to evolve what you put out but always keep a hint of what made you unique in the first place. I am always trying to find new elevated ways of creating and entertaining, but sometimes coming back to my original style is a great way of grounding and giving a nod to your long-standing original audience. The beauty of spontaneity and immediacy I believe is it spurs great creativity. The idea is quick and you can exercise it and release it into the wild, and that makes room for the next one. It’s a muscle that you need to use. Sitting on ideas and not nourishing them is a way to a writer’s block.
Your comedy often returns to the cultural touchstones you grew up with. What is it about that period that keeps pulling you back - and what from today do you think we’ll be nostalgic for in twenty years?
I think nostalgia is a wonderful way to connect with your inner child. The comedy and culture that shaped me as a child will always be special. I think as well the nineties and naughties were peak monoculture, something we have less of these days, so it’s a brilliant way to unite people, of my age and above. I’m not sure what will be nostalgic about the 2020s in 20 years. I feel we still talk about the C-word and 2020, ‘did that really happen?’, so maybe we’ll be telling the young’uns about that, although I hope there’s something more interesting. I find it quite hard to pinpoint as it feels life and culture and trends are changing and evolving quicker than they ever have before. I’ll personally always think about The Girls Aloud Show Reunion Tour of 2024 with fond memories.
Online, you can construct exactly what the audience sees; on stage, you surrender some of that control to the room. Does that unpredictability become part of the comedy?
Absolutely, the audience is my scene partner at a live show. I take a lot of inspiration and energy from the different crowds. It’s what makes live performance so special!
You’re about to take Pizazz around the UK, performing the same show to very different rooms. How might those different audiences shape the show as the tour unfolds?
Different material can work better in different rooms and cities. Something that really resonates with a London audience might not work in other cities. The more playful a show is, the more asides and tangents I can go on, and the more adlibs could make it into the show permanently as we go, so it's really exciting. The show is never perfect or completely finished, it can evolve as the tour unfolds.
For someone whose comedy is so often built around observing other people, Pizazz turns some of that attention back onto yourself. Was that a comfortable place to look?
It’s definitely comfortable, I don’t mind revealing details about myself to the audience. All the stories in this show are often me in a situation with my friends or family, so they are still observational. The trick is taking a personal story or private joke and making it funny for everyone in the room.
We’ve talked about nostalgia and looking back, but on a more personal level, what have you found yourself unexpectedly sentimental about?
I definitely can get sentimental for a time without as much technology, and without as much streaming. Physically owning your CDs and books and DVDs I think is more special and I knew every lyric, scene and word of my favourites. These days I’m finding I can have less of a connection to artists and their work as everything streams in and streams out of a device.
If Pizazz is, in part, a snapshot of life in your mid-30s, what about the world around you now do you think will give the 60-year-old Christopher the most material?
Who knows. Hopefully he’ll be around then and still able to get on stage. Surely he’ll still be getting into ridiculous situations with his friends and able to rinse them for material. I’ve done material about being a guncle, o maybe there’ll be some great-guncle jokes in the pipeline!
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
Christopher Hall
/ by Olivia Spencer
talent CHRISTOPHER HALL
photo OLIVIA SPENCER
editor TAGEN DONOVAN