Stephen K Amos on laughter, royals and the magic of the room

Saturday, 4 April 2026

Stephen K Amos is one of the headliners of the New Zealand International Comedy Festival, with his show Now We’re Talking. A warhorse on the international comedy circuit, the 58-year-old Londoner is also known for UK TV ( Have I Got News for You), and his BBC radio programmes like Life: An Idiot’s Guide and upcoming Me, I Blame the Parents. Over the phone from Canberra, Amos talked to Alexander Bisley about the science of laughter, Pope Francis flooring him, and why the British Royals are funny.

What do you hope people in Wellington might take away from your May show, Now We’re Talking?

Well the first thing they’ll take away is big, strong, aching jaws and bellies from the laughter that will ensue. I’m also hoping that they’ll get a little insight into what laughter is all about and why laughter is important and why talking is important and why listening is very important. Part of the show is about the science of laughter. What it does to our brains. And yes, it’s not a TED talk. It’s funny.

If I give too much away, it’ll ruin the show. Essentially, the magic of laughter is the mirror neuron. When you see someone laugh, you will laugh, unless you’re, of course, made of stone. I talk about the different effects that laughter has, the chemicals that are released, and what it does to us. And if you think about it on a basic human level: Babies learn to laugh before they can speak.

Isn’t it incredible? It’s incredible when you think about it. And then the world arrives and we all get cynical. But yeah, let’s not forget the laughter.

We’re internet-inundated with funny clips. What's the pitch for getting people to haul themselves out and come see live comedy?

Nothing beats live comedy. When you see stuff on YouTube, that’s been edited, reshot, redone, relit. On stage in the moment with the show, it’s all immediate. If stuff happens in the room that’s funny, we can run with it. It’s about a shared human experience with other people, not just yourself at home watching clips. Other complete strangers all laughing at the same thing. That’s the uniting thing. If you can make new friends, that’s even better.

Jemaine Clement’s worst job before he became a successful comedian was working as a door-to-door orange juice salesman. How about you?

I love Jemaine. One of my worst jobs was selling household cleaning products door-to-door as a young man. There’s nothing more depressing than trying to go unsolicited to somebody’s house and selling them something which they undoubtedly already have in their houses. Or I was selling chemicals, telling people that their houses stink. People would literally shut the door in my face.

How was it meeting Pope Francis (as part of BBC's Pilgrimage )?

It was extraordinary. I didn’t want to do it, it wasn’t planned. I have reservations about certain elements of the Catholic Church as an organisation. But a couple of people I was with, they said, go for it, why not? And I thought, yeah, I’ll go meet him if we can ask questions. They said, you can ask questions. And I did. Some people in my family are quite religious. It was quite a moment.

“As a gay man, I don’t feel accepted,” you told the Pope. He replied progressively and acceptingly, noting the importance of “heart”, “We are all human beings and have dignity.”

He floored me. I was like, wow. It made me very emotional because I went there expecting a different answer, just to placate me or whatever. He didn’t have the question in advance. His response really made a difference. It didn’t make me become a Catholic, but it made a difference.

One of your entertaining bits is about meeting the Royals, like Prince Harry. “How’s I supposed to sound massa?”

I can’t blame him for wanting to get away from the media in the UK, wanting to protect his wife and his kids.

I’ve met most of the Royals. I’ve never met Prince Andrew. I do remember all the headlines from back in the day about him being Randy Andy, all sorts of things. Of course, he’s going through his own situation at the moment, oh dear.

Are the Royals funny?

I personally think the Royals are funny. I did a joke: “Oh, I can’t wait to get on TV, but apparently, according to the BBC, I’ve got to wait for Lenny Henry to die.” Prince Philip comes up to me after the show and he goes, “Oh, you’re the man who wants Lenny Henry to die. We can arrange that.”

I mean, if you imagine these people, meeting people and shaking hands every single day, how boringly tedious that must be. So you must have to do something to elevate your day or to make it amusing. King Charles has a very well-renowned sense of humour. For his 60th birthday, he requested a comedy show in a big Wimbledon theatre, which I was on with Joan Rivers and Robin Williams. It was incredible.

Seth Rogen once told me you can make a joke about anything as long as it’s funny.

I would agree with that. I don’t think any subject is off limits. I think any good comic should be able to tackle any subject. How it’s executed, on the other hand, is a different matter. If you’re one of these comics who relies on cruelty or making people feel just horrible, then that’s shock value, not comedy.

Sex is another subject you enjoy in your show?

Yes, well, most people know what that is. That’s how we all got here. I don’t proclaim to be an expert. But if we can make jokes about anything, well, why not sex? The myth of Brits being repressed is slowly dying out as a myth. Because of the world we live in, the access to all sorts of things online, it’s all getting calm now.

You’ve been around the world. Have you ended up on a stage where you felt notably uncomfortable?

I have actually, yes. I was asked to do a show in a country somewhere, let me just say that. I didn’t know until I got there that this was a private show booked by a very senior member of a certain royal family. Yeah, it was the most awkward thing ever. I felt literally like I was summoned to be the court jester. I was told that if he didn’t like the comic, he would give a subtle signal to the organisers and then they’d flash the lights to tell you to get off.

This conversation has been lightly edited and condensed

Stephen K Amos, NZ International Comedy Festival, Hannah Playhouse, May 8, tickets: iticket