SHARING HIS STORY AND HIS STRUGGLES
Comedian wants to help banish stigma surrounding mental illness
It may seem somewhat incongruous that comedian Christophe Davidson has been selected to be the spokesperson for the Au Contraire Film Festival (Oct. 25 to 28 at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts). The festival, now in its fourth year, showcases films that challenge the myths and perceptions surrounding mental illness.
Davidson, a former Montrealer now living in Toronto, is a rather droll observer of humankind and all our inanities. He has parlayed his take on the human condition into acclaimed gigs at Just for Laughs, Toronto’s JFL42, the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and tours of Australia, the U.S. and Canada.
But though friends and colleagues might have assumed Davidson was generally a happygo-lucky wit, he has had his fair share of demons with which to contend, and which he has largely kept secret. For the first time, he wishes to address them, at Au Contraire and in advance of World Suicide Prevention Day on Sept. 10.
Not only has Davidson had to deal with severe depression and bipolar issues, he is still trying to come to terms with the suicide of his father last year.
“My issues and then my father’s suicide were overwhelming and very scary, to say the least, but I’m really looking forward to this opportunity to talk about it,” says Davidson, 35. “I’ve dipped my toe in the water at the odd comedy stage, but it didn’t seem right. It’s very hard for a comic to pull that sort of situation off onstage.
“I had really avoided dealing with all that, but now I feel ready to open up about it and legitimize my presence at the festival.”
Davidson, the first Au Contraire spokesperson, will deliver a monologue on the opening night of the festival. He will seek to break down barriers surrounding mental illness, all the while trying to crack up the audience. No small task.
“When I was asked to be the spokesperson, they only knew part of my history. I told them they actually hit the jackpot with me — that I was crazier than they had even first thought,” he jokes, before summoning that adage about comedy being defined as tragedy plus time.
“I have yet to really attempt to speak about this even in a storytelling way. My issues played a very significant moment in my life, but it’s something I haven’t shared publicly until now. It will be difficult, yet it will be honest and candid. But it will be more of a monologue than standup.
“What’s most encouraging, though, is that the stigma of mental illness is slowly receding.”
It was before Davidson toured Australia four years ago that everything started to blow up. He was on a stopover at an airport in Singapore and, for no particular reason, he began doing frantic tai chi exercises for a half-hour — which may have amused some, but alarmed security officials. When he refused to stop, authorities rightly suspected something was amiss.
“It was classic delusions, hallucinations and psychosis,” he recalls. “There was a loss of ego, almost a death of sense of self.”
When he returned to Toronto, he was diagnosed by one psychiatrist as suffering from a Bipolar II episode, involving hypomania, psychosis and depression. Davidson was also advised that the episode would more than likely recur. But through various exercises, eating regimens and family support, he has been able to avoid a repetition.
“I was fortunate that I only needed about three doses of an anti-psychotic medication to get my feet back on the ground, and that I didn’t have to follow through on a whole series of complex medications which are often prescribed for this sort of mania.”
His father’s suicide last year took its toll. Particularly troubling for Davidson was that he never suspected his dad was in such dire straits.
“It came completely out of the blue for me. I knew he worked a lot and didn’t sleep enough and that he was feeling low about his relationship with his wife, my stepmother. It came out later that he had talked to one of my uncles about suicide before and that he was being medicated for depression. The bottom line is that he should have been monitored a lot more closely.”
Davidson sorely wishes he had been aware of his dad’s depression and could have been there for him.
“It sounds almost cliché, but those who are suffering from depression have to alert people,” he says. “If I had had any idea about where my father was at, I would have dropped everything to go to support him. There’s a lot of ‘would have dones.’
“We never had a lot of time to talk about my episode after it happened, but he did mention to me that when he was around my age, he, too, experienced that sort of mania. That has certainly given me pause, and I’m trying to be aware of where my mind goes now and what I could have inherited. All the same, I feel very fortunate that I have so much support. There are too many people who don’t.”
Davidson started pretty much at the bottom in the comedy business: cleaning toilets and mopping floors at the downtown Comedyworks. He had originally gone to the club to perform at an open-mike night 15 years ago, but was offered a maintenance gig rather than a standup one.
Davidson probably could have avoided the toilets had he followed through on his first career choice: film, which is what brought him to Montreal from his native Toronto in the first place. He is a graduate of Concordia’s film production program. His very first attempt at the university, a black-and-white short called My Film, won the award for best film comedy in his year.
Davidson’s graduation film, the whimsical short One Hot, Rotting Zombie Love Song, went on to win an award at the Fantasia festival and the award for best fiction film in the student competition component of the Festival des films du monde, among a slew of other prizes. That film led Davidson to believe he could make it as a comedian.
He persevered, performing regularly at open-mic nights around town while supporting himself as a mixologist at Grumpy’s. It took five years, but Davidson was eventually able to make his mark and to survive on his comedy smarts alone.
“What I’ve really come to realize is that my being able to laugh is just so important to moving forward, as it is in giving others a chance to laugh, too.”
It sounds almost cliché, but those who are suffering from depression have to alert people