Comedian and actor Omid Djalili, 56, on abusive trolls, a painful run-in with Oliver Reed and why he left for the countryside.
Did you try Zoom gigs during lockdown?
I resisted but then I realised that during the pandemic it was our modus operandi and started doing more and more of them. I even did a Zoom gig in Dubai.
I used to end them by taking the computer into the toilet. I’d then push the flush and say, ‘And here’s the sound of my career…’ It was the most glorious way to end a show.
Were you ever worried that your career really was heading down the toilet?
Initially, I tried to do comedy in different ways. I set up an Instagram account and made videos but then, after a few months, I thought I might have to retrain in something.
I was in the middle of thinking what that might be when I realised there was a whole audience out there who don’t know me and that’s the Persian speakers.
I used lockdown to brush up on my Persian and then did a Persian language talk show and a Zoom stand-up gig in the Persian language, which I’ve never done before.
The talk show went out on MBC Persia. A lot of people watched it and I’ve now got my own show for BBC Persian.
Do you have to be more careful what you say nowadays?
The whole thing of saying anything you like and there being no consequences is ridiculous.
A friend of mine recently texted me a joke that began, ‘Paddy, Jock and Taffy walk into a pub…’ I wrote back and said, ‘You can’t send me jokes like that.’
Those jokes went out 20 years ago.
Your latest venture is called The Good Times Tour. Are you feeling very positive or is the title ironic?
It’s fluctuated. One moment it was a genuine thing, and then we went into lockdown and it was ironic… and then it was positive again.
But mainly it’s the joy of being back on stage. And people seem really excited to see some comedy.
Either I’ve become very funny or people are desperate to laugh again.
Do you get much abuse from trolls online?
All the time. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. They’ll say derogatory things about Muslims and I’m not even Muslim, or they’ll say, ‘Why don’t you go back to Iran and do your comedy there?’
I get it almost daily but I’ve learnt to block them. I’ve blocked about a thousand people.
Are you just as funny at home?
My eldest daughter, who is 28, said to me recently, ‘I really miss when we’d all be on the bed and you’d pretend to be sucked into a vortex.’
I’d fire myself out backwards on to the bed and disappear. It used to make the kids laugh.
Now my comedy has become more serious they do miss the stupid things!
Why is your comedy becoming more serious?
The world is so divided and I’ve realised the one thing that brings people together is a shared sense of what is funny. It’s the one time that people agree.
Why did you recently move from London to Suffolk?
There’s no traffic here, the pace of life is easier and I’d got to the point where I wanted to see a bit more countryside and have less stress.
It was a lockdown move and it’s been brilliant.
I’ve adopted Ipswich Town as my second football team. They invited me to speak to the crowd at half-time.
The Super Bowl got Eminem, Snoop Dog, Dr Dre and Mary J Blige. Ipswich got the guy who had his knackers put in a vice by Oliver Reed in Gladiator.
That sounds very painful!
I’m only in Gladiator for four minutes. I played a slave trader who sold Russell Crowe to Oliver Reed, who grabbed my nether regions and said, ‘You sold me queer giraffes and I want my money back.’
It’s the only comedy moment in the film.
You’ve been in quite a few films including Notting Hill, Mamma Mia 2 and Sex And The City 2…
I have this niche career as an ethnic scumbag specialist.
People say to me that I’m an Arab scumbag specialist and I say, ‘Excuse me, in the James Bond film The World Is Not Enough I played an Azerbaijani oil pipe attendant, which was a major departure in my career!’
Is there anything left on your bucket list?
I don’t think about dying but I do have a five-year plan. The first stage was to get my own show up and running, which I’ve done, and then, when my profile is higher, I’d like to do my own sitcom called Inside The Ethnic Bit-Part Actor’s Studio.
I’ve also got an idea for a $100 million film about the early history of the faith.
These are passion projects.
What’s your favourite way to unwind?
I love putting my feet up on a Sunday, having a nice Sunday dinner and watching some football with a chip hanging out of my mouth.
Nothing relaxes me more.
Omid Djalili is touring Good Times throughout the UK. For tickets, see
