Preview: My Daily Mail Hell | The School for Scandal

Bridget Christie

FORMER jobs are often fertile territory for stand-up comics and a stint working on the diary column of the Daily Mail has gifted Bridget Christie with a glut of colourful material to work from. From being given a lapdance by Peter Stringfellow to being strangled by Gene Wilder, her five years on the diary desk have provided the Gloucester-born comic with plenty of stories to fill My Daily Mail Hell, her show at this year's Fringe.

Actually, the show's title is misleading. The youngest of nine children, Christie was brought up in what she describes as "a very liberal, old Labour, working-class family"; a background that wouldn't seem to be the most obvious fit for the rather more right-of-centre Mail. Despite this, she reckons that her time at the paper was actually quite fun.

"I did have a good time," says Christie. 'The show is about the unusual situations that I got myself into. It was a world that I didn't really belong in.'

Acting, archaeology and, seriously, being a detective had always been much higher up Christie's wish list of careers than journalism. Working for the Mail came about through chance more than design. Christie had been sent to the paper by a temping agency as a typist, work which fitted in with her fledgling career in comedy. Her job was to find out what parties were on and who would be attending them. If there weren't enough proper journalists available to cover all the events then Christie would be sent out. She quickly discovered that she wasn't a natural.

"I was really crap," she laughs. "You just wouldn't believe how rubbish I was. I would meet these celebrities or important politicians and ask what they had had for tea. My colleagues wouldn't do that because their jobs depended on it. They had to report back to the editor with something they could use. It was a bonus if I got something."

Many of Christie's would-be interviewees told her to push off in no uncertain terms but the fact that she was so glaringly bad at the job actually worked in her favour occasionally.

"I came across as so naïve that I think I caught a lot of them off guard. A lot of them were quite nice to me and gave me funny little stories. I met Nick Robinson, the BBC's political editor. He has met some big fish in his time and I could have asked him anything.

"So I said, 'Hi Nick, it's Bridget from the Mail. Have you got any mad fans?' He said, 'No but someone keeps on sending me copies of my own face wrapped up in toilet paper. Does that mean I am a shit or does it mean that they are trying to protect me in some way by wrapping up my face?'" Needless to say, the front page wasn't held for that particular story but, while Christie may not have earned a reputation as an ace newshound, she did gain an insight into the tawdry world of celebrity PR.

"They court the press like nobody's business," she says. "They will call you up and tell you things that have happened and then complain if you get their age wrong or use a slightly unflattering photo or mention that they were a criminal five years ago. They try and have it all ways."

Christie gave up the job a couple of years ago when she became pregnant and is now married to fellow comic Stewart Lee. Since leaving the Mail, her comedy career has begun to take off and, among other writing projects, she is currently working on a treatment for a sitcom inspired by the Mitfords.

Historical figures have always loomed large in Christie's imagination. For the last couple of years, she presented Edinburgh comedy shows loosely based on the life of Charles II. This year, she is one of several comedians taking part in RB Sheridan's 18th Century farce The School For Scandal. An enthusiastic member of the Sealed Knot historical re-enactment society, she has always had a slightly oddball fascination for the past.

"In Paddington station yesterday, I saw a man with really long curly hair like something from the 1640s. He looked like he was in the English Civil War and that made me so happy.

"It's not just the 17th century that I like but I do particularly like that period because I've always thought that I looked like Charles II."

"I mean I look like him when he was 18," she adds just in case there might be any confusion. "Not when he was 55."

• My Daily Mail Hell is at the Gilded Balloon Teviot, Edinburgh. The School for Scandal is at the Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh. Both shows run until 31 August.

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