Karl Pilkington stares balefully at my tape recorder. ‘How long have you got on it? Six hours! Bloody hell.’ The unexpected star of The Ricky Gervais Show is fretting about why The Spectator wants to interview him. ‘I don’t understand why I’m in it. I normally read magazines which do things in little bite-size bits, like, how they’re making cows with more muscle. Bits of info like that that might come in handy.
‘I like to learn stuff cos I didn’t do well at school. I think it’s better this way round cos when you’re a kid you want to play out on your bike.’
If Karl Pilkington did not exist, it would take a genius to invent him. Which is ironic, because this is precisely what some critics seem to think has happened.
The official version of his rise to something like fame is this: Pilkington was a producer at Xfm radio when he was chosen to work on a show with Ricky Gervais, creator of The Office, and his sidekick Stephen Merchant. In between pressing buttons, he opened his mouth and Gervais fell in love with the torrent of comedic drivel that poured out. Last year the threesome began a series of podcasts for download through the Guardian website. They entered the Guinness Book of Records for most downloaded podcast of all time (an accolade they joked was like winning ‘Best Invention’ for the wheel). The routines, which they insist are entirely spontaneous, revolve around the deadpan naivety of Pilkington as he relates his favourite facts and sayings — ‘you never see an old man eating a Twix’; ‘people who live in glass houses have to answer the door’ — to the delight of Gervais and Merchant, who mock him mercilessly.
His pronouncements on the world are, by any standard measurement, hopelessly misconceived — ‘gay people go out too late at the weekends’; ‘Chinese people age overnight’ — and yet it feels as though the deepest truths are lurking within them. It is all too much for the conspiracy theorists who believe Karl is a creation of Gervais, an actor relaying a script.
I broach the possibility that he does not exist straight away and am greeted by a look of hurt so childlike I immediately want to retract my question.
‘I’m sick of that. What is it that I’ve said, what is it that I’ve done in a world that’s really mental that’s making people think he’s making me up? If they knew Ricky, they’d know he’s too lazy to do that.’
I put it to him that if he does exist, he is a comic genius. Gervais himself has called him the funniest man on the planet.
‘It’s good that people like it. I suppose all important things start off like that, you never know where it’s gonna go. The wise men taking those presents to Jesus probably didn’t think, “I’m gonna be in a book here”. They were just in the right place at the right time. That’s what I’m like.
‘I’ve been put in some place where I’m allowed to say what’s going on in my head and I bet everyone’s having the same sort of thoughts.’ This is unlikely. Most people nowadays tend to think big, whereas Pilkington has hit upon the art of thinking small.
He declares himself nonplussed about subjects such as the economy or Iraq. However, he is deeply concerned that there is a lot of ‘doubling up’ with animals: ‘If I was Noah I would have gone, “Hang on a minute, I’ve just seen something that looks a bit like this.”’ He is preoccupied with the world of insects because ‘no one’s keeping an eye on what they’re up to’.
You get the feeling the world the rest of us inhabit has let him down. He voted once, but shortly afterwards got hauled in for jury service. ‘There’s no way the bonus of ticking a box was worth spending a month in a court room. I’m not doing that again. There’s too much voting going on. Vote now, vote for this, vote for that. It’s like a sofa sale at Christmas.
‘Make it more of an event. On our estate it was like a proper day’s work. People would come in the pub and say, “I’ve been voting today, I’m shattered.”’ He feels the news would be better if it was presented a week late ‘when the edge has been taken off’.
Politicians are simply not on his radar. ‘When I’m looking online I’m looking at cod disappearing.’
I tell him there is a brand of politicians, traditional Tories mainly, who talk about nothing but fisheries policy. He looks inspired. ‘Do they?’ Then he shakes his head. ‘I sometimes wonder how we’re short of cod. There’s gonna be a load deep down that are hiding. But it’s a good reason to put the price up and it means a load of people will have haddock. They should tell people they’re running out of all sorts. Make ’em panic a bit.’
Did he see the recent reports that shellfish are going to be extinct? Like lightning he snaps back: ‘Not my fault. I’ve never eaten any of it.’
I ask if his pronouncements — for example that eating ten bananas in a row will kill you — are evidence-based? ‘If you sit in a bath of pineapple chunks, it can kill you. That’s well documented. It’s an expensive way to go cos pineapple chunks are pretty dear.
‘But there’s too much fruit. I saw one the other day called starfruit. I’m 33, where’s that been?’
Pilkington’s humour is gentle, but also bleak. One of his favourite riffs is about a woman on the Manchester council estate where he grew up who pushed around a pram containing a bucket on which had been painted a face.
He rails at the fact that it cost £60 to put his dog down — ‘we could have done that’ — and has a penchant for bodily deformities. ‘Maybe that’s the way we’re meant to be going, with multitasking. But as soon as something’s born that’s odd they go, “Sort it out”. We’re not being left to grow. There’s more of it happening, especially in China. The amount of kids with four legs.’ Is he sure of this? ‘Yeah. I’ve not seen an English lad with four legs.’
He defends a routine about pygmies on the basis that, ‘Pygmies exist, don’t they? If I was a little fella, there’s no way I would want people to say, “Don’t mention it”.’ He breaks off to ask, ‘A pygmy is a small person innit? How small? We haven’t got any in this country, have we?’
He used to get complaints on Xfm and says he learnt his lesson. ‘The trick is to generalise, go for groups of people.’ He is obsessed with animals and thinks nothing deserves to die horribly, even if it is making a nuisance of itself.
‘Why are we getting annoyed with badgers? We shouldn’t go into the woods, that’s where they live. It’s the same with people with guns on council estates. Don’t go in there and interfere. That’s where they live.’
Pilkington is a relentless torrent of ideas, until you ask what he plans to do next. Belying the classic melancholy streak of the funny man, he opines that while his fans want more of him, ‘You can let people down, can’t you?’
He gave up his job as a producer on Xfm ‘cos I hated it’ and now feels that he is at a crossroads. ‘I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I’m not important, am I? I’m not doing anything that makes a difference.’
It probably doesn’t help that his da d thinks he should get a proper job while his mum and girlfriend didn’t listen to the podcasts, the latter ‘cos she’s got sensitive ears’.
His relationship with Gervais seems to be the linchpin of his life. They phone each other twice a day. ‘He normally calls up to make sure I’m up. Then he’ll just say stuff, like “Did you see the news?” or “I’m just massaging the cat, it’s a bit stressed out”.’ I might call him up and say, “What you doing?” He’ll say, “I’m a bit busy. Can’t talk now.” It might even be when I’m on holiday. Then it’s costing more.’
If Pilkington is dragging his feet, Gervais will get his comic juices flowing by playing parlour games. The other day he challenged him to muster celebrities in a balloon to take to another planet ‘cos the earth’s blowing up’. By way of a twist, someone had to get thrown off.
Pilkington assembled Jamie Oliver — ‘Well, he doesn’t faff about, does he? With Ramsay it’d be, “Stop messing about with the pasta, just give it us, we’re in space”’ and Patrick Moore — ‘cos he’d know the way’. So who got thrown off?
‘To be honest, it was me. I managed to pick a load of really good people and I was a bit weak.’ Of all the strange stories and amazing facts he has thrown at me, Pilkington’s own lack of self-belief is the most curious thing by far.
Ricky Gervais Presents The World of Karl Pilkington is published by Fourth Estate. Melissa Kite is deputy political editor of the Sunday Telegraph.
