Andrew Hamilton, comedian, 38: Q&A
Four months in remand was more than enough time for the Sydney comedian (and former drug dealer) to ask himself what he wanted to get out of life.
The title of your new book is The Profound Benefits of a Stint in Prison. In a nutshell, what are they? I went to prison to be punished, and instead I got tested and asked myself the question, What do you want to get out of life? That was a question I hadn’t asked myself for a very, very long time. I remember standing in the yard at Long Bay, and a guy walked past me and I could hear him say to his mate, “Everyone should go to jail.” I could see he was having a similar experience to me, which was that sometimes in life you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
In June 2021 your home was raided by NSW Police, you were arrested and charged with drug supply offences and spent the next four months on remand in prison. That’s a fair sign that it was time for a career change… Well, don’t get me wrong, it was absolutely not funny at the time. But it has been fertile ground for some of my best jokes that I still use today. That whole moment of frantically flushing drugs down the toilet and running and hiding behind my bedroom door, even though I was fat and couldn’t fit behind the door. When I started to write jokes I was like, OK, all of this is hilarious.
You write in the book, “Bad guys go to prison, but I didn’t feel like I was a bad guy.” Do you still feel that way? I’d be in the yard of a massive security prison, and guys would ask, “What are you in for?” When I said I was in there for dealing magic mushrooms these guys would laugh in my face. When I was selling drugs, it was to people going to parties and on camping trips and the most destructive things in my life were alcohol and gambling. So for me, it didn’t gel.
What role did laughter play when you were locked up? I started to write prison food reviews to entertain myself, and then two things happened. The first was I had all these moments where things were funny and I laughed, and I realised how amazing it felt. When you’re in jail, it feels like it shouldn’t be a place where laughter exists. And second, it triggered memories of when I would go to stand-up shows and write down joke ideas on my phone. I never explored it any further. It wasn’t until I was sitting in prison that I thought, “Well, if you could start again, what would you do?” The only answer was stand-up comedy.
You had a stint as a restaurateur in the 2010s, making pizza for both humans and dogs. Was this an idea you had when you were high? I had this mountain of cash, you know, so I could afford to come up with a dumb business idea and turn it into a reality. I still had a lot of pride in it. I wanted the restaurant to be successful. All the media at the time focused on the fact we had pizzas for dogs, but what got glossed over was that the human menu was fantastic. I was very strict with our pepperoni pizza. It had to have sufficient “pep coverage” – at least 23 slices of pepperoni on every pizza as a rule. A lot of science went into that.
Where do you get your funny streak from? My Mum is funny. My Dad, not so much. My Mum has got that way of seeing the humour in any situation, which is something that certainly transferred to me. It’s a kind of optimism, isn’t it? Having a sense of humour, particularly when things go to shit. With the book coming out she’s been debating with me who she wants to play her in the movie of my life.
Meryl Streep? No, I said Jacki Weaver like in Animal Kingdom! But Mum reckons she’s too old.
The Profound Benefits of a Stint in Prison is out now
