How a joke makes everything better

Humour educates, heals and is a vital way to survive everyday life, says Brisbane comedy writer Angelina Hurley.

FUNNY business: Angelina Hurley. Picture: Mark Cranitch.

ANGELINA HURLEY

Comedy writer, 52

Ascot

My [late] dad [Ron, 57] was very, very funny; all my rellies are. My uncles and aunties crack me up, so humour is a massive influence in my family. Mum [Colleen, 70] is the third-youngest of 11 siblings, so I’ve got dozens of cousins and every one of them has got a funny bone in a different way.

Comedy is a big part of our [indigenous] community, but not as predominant or well-known in the mainstream. Telling yarns and funny stories is the most important thing whenever we get together, for whatever reason. It’s always a part of a gathering. Always.

Humour is so cathartic. It holds truth and addresses serious issues in a way people can’t get offended by. That’s its power and its purpose – to educate, I think. It’s everything from a healing to a means of survival. When people get really upset, it doesn’t matter what race you are, if you have a laugh, you always feel heaps better. Something funny happens every day, everywhere, that makes me giggle. It’s important for your sanity. There are a couple of people on Twitter this morning, commenting on news items, who made me giggle, and a stand-up comedy show of [American comedian] Chris Rock’s last night made me laugh hysterically. You know the old cliche, you’ve got to laugh at life!

My brother Simon, 51, a film producer in Melbourne, and I grew up in Vulture St, South Brisbane, and moved through a few schools. Dad was a well-known artist. His most famous series is about [1930s Aboriginal cricketer] Eddie Gilbert, which the Queensland Art Gallery owns, and the totem poles at Kangaroo Point Cliffs are his as well. He’s got works dotted all over Brisbane. We used to think we had to live up to Dad’s legacy growing up, but we’re in our own lanes now. Dad was very much, “Just do what you know and do it well; be happy with what you do”, and that’s what we do.

I loved doing art but we just used to do it, never thinking we wanted to be visual artists or anything. It was a big influence on us, but it was more about finding our niches. I started off in education and high school teaching in art, to working in government bodies and arts organisations, until I found my real passion. It wasn’t until later on in life I realised I really loved writing so, yeah, I do that. For my Doctorate of Visual Arts, Film School, Griffith University, I’m writing a script for a six-part TV series. It’s about reconciling and making the most of Australia from an indigenous perspective. There’s a deadly amount of indigenous comedy on TV now, which is great, but there’s never enough. It’s my dream to get this show up.

I’ve lived in Ascot more than 20 years. Around home, I’m terrible. I glue myself to my computer and I’m always thinking I should be doing something. I like to think I’m a gardener, but I’m not. That’s my mother. She’s a really good craftsperson too; she can make anything, absolutely anything. Can you make me cake? She’ll make you a cake. Can you make me a dress? She’ll make you a dress. She’s got all those old-school skills. I used to make my own clothes in high school – not because I couldn’t afford to buy clothes, but because I loved doing it – but I don’t have a sewing machine anymore. I love cooking, everything from salads to curry, old-school meals like damper and roast. My vice is a sweet tooth. I could spend all day cooking desserts. My signature dish is the pineapple meringue tart we used to ask Mum for as kids.

I don’t do as much yoga as I should, but I take the time to drive out of Brisbane and go anywhere for a swim whenever I can. It’s important to get into nature and out of the city. It makes you relax, it’s healing, it brings you back down to earth, and it refreshes you. I do like being isolated too – especially when you go freshwater swimming in the bush; it’s nice to be surrounded by silence and all you can hear is nature.