But Also John Clarke

Director’s Note

When I was a kid, adults were always asking me what it was like to have John Clarke as a dad. Weird question, by the way. what’s it like to have anyone as a dad? but maybe what people actually wanted to know was: is that connection I feel to the satirist who helps me laugh at politicians real? dad thought a lot about his audience. he’d talk about it too. back when I was starting out as a writer, director and performer, I was careful to keep my work separate from dad’s, but we swapped notes on everything in our family, doing table-reads of scripts, editing each other’s work, asking questions. it was an accidental apprenticeship in a creative team of four.

in 2016, I recorded myself asking dad about his life and work. the following year, suddenly, shockingly, he died. in the wake of that shock, my partner found a document on dad’s computer called “for Lorin and Lucia”. it was the story of his life. my sister and I talked about the prescience of this gift to us. how had he known that having those details in his words would feel like a gift? when it came time to decide what to do with all these elements of dad’s legacy, it felt like he was helping me tell the story. all I needed was to get some of the funniest, smartest people in the world (his friends) to help me tell it. this film is partly my answer to that question I was asked my whole life (what was he like as a dad?) and partly my answer to the question beneath the question: yes, your connection to John Clarke was real. His relationship with his audience was something he treasured and protected and enjoyed.

But also? if you’ve never heard of John Clarke or Fred Dagg? this is for you. a fun, silly, smart, hilarious reminder that however disempowered we feel in a world flooding us with reasons to be miserable, there’s power in finding the fun wherever we are.

Lorin Clarke