Ben Elton: the comedy giant who deserves his place on the pantheon

We’ve just finished Ben Elton’s new autobiography What Have I Done? If you’ve not listened to it yet, please do yourself a favour and grab the audiobook (as regular podcast listeners will know, we’ve previously suggesting doing the audiobook version when it’s a comedian’s autobiography – Elton makes the case for us, such is the characteristic passion, zeal and enthusiasm of his delivery).

It’s Elton in full flight: reflective, ferociously razor-sharp and read with the kind of comic timing that reminds you why he’s one of the undisputed greats. And as we listened, laughed, and occasionally winced (the kicking he’s taken across the best part of 50 years is, frankly, too much - the left-leaning Mirror once said that he should be shot!), one thought kept coming back: this man absolutely deserves to be carved into the granite of British comedy history.

Let’s be clear. Ben Elton isn’t just a successful comedian. He’s a bona fide polymath. A pioneer. A one-man cultural movement. His fingerprints are all over the past four-plus decades of British entertainment — and yet, somehow, he’s never quite received the unqualified reverence he deserves.

The CV That Won’t Quit

Start with the sitcoms. The Young Ones didn’t just break the mould — it smashed it to bits and pogoed on the shards, giving birth to a whole new era of alternative comedy. Blackadder is for many the finest sitcom this country has ever produced, and Elton’s writing helped elevate it from historical farce to comic masterpiece. How many sitcoms do you know that were so good, history teachers at secondary schools would wheel in the bulkiest TV you’ve ever seen, to screen Dish & Dishonesty (from Blackadder III in order to explain rotten boroughs) or Goodbyeee (from Blackadder Goes Fourth to convey the horrors of war)... This may well have just been a state-school thing, we grant you.

There’s Upstart Crow, which proves he’s still got it — a Shakespearean sitcom that’s clever, silly and sneakily profound, proving he can still master the period joke.

Then there’s the stand-up. Elton was the face of Channel 4’s ground-breaking Saturday Live, the show that helped launch alternative comedy into the mainstream. He didn’t just tell jokes — he delivered blistering, machine-gun monologues that tackled politics, culture and hypocrisy with a fury that felt fresh and utterly necessary. What's more, he could also do brilliant broad stand-up ("Double seat, double seat!").

Elton was the angry young man in a sparkly suit, and whether you loved or loathed the look, you couldn’t ignore the seismic impact. Of the many top-tier comic talents on that show, Elton is the one who became – as he says – the overnight star. His BBC stand-up show - The Man From Auntie - was similarly superb (the Invisible Demon routine is a classic).

And the novels? Sixteen of them. Satirical, dystopian, romantic, political — often all at once. Dead Famous, Gridlock, Blast from the Past, Time and Time Again — each one a reminder that Elton’s brain doesn’t switch off. He’s an ideas generator, always writing, always pushing boundaries.

Let’s not forget the musicals. We Will Rock You might have baffled the critics, but it sold out theatres globally (still does, in fact) and became a phenomenon. The Beautiful Game tackled sectarianism in Northern Ireland with heart and honesty alongside Andrew Lloyd Webber (the cast also boasted a then-unknown Hannah Waddingham). He’s written plays (Gasping, Popcorn, Silence), directed films (Maybe Baby), and even returned to stand-up in recent years with the kind of high-octane energy that would exhaust comics half his age. That’s not a career; it’s an industry.

So Why the Kicking?

And yet — despite all this — Elton has taken a kicking for the best part of five decades. Why?

Is it the confidence? The refusal to play the self-effacing Brit? Elton has never been shy about his success, and in a culture that often prefers its geniuses humble (or at least pretending to be), that’s a risky move. It’s not just confidence; it’s an almost American self-belief. And more on that in a bit...

Is it the politics? As he says in his new book, he’s been labelled everything from “too left” to “not left enough,” depending on the decade. He’s been accused of selling out, of being too angry, of being too earnest. And yet, as What Have I Done? makes clear, he’s always been politically engaged — not dogmatic, but curious, passionate, and unafraid to challenge the prevailing orthodoxy.

Is it the sheer volume of work? In Britain, we sometimes mistake prolific for pretentious. Elton doesn’t dabble — he dives in headfirst. And when someone excels in multiple fields, we get suspicious. Surely no one can be that good at that many things?

But here’s the thing: he is. 

And the work speaks for itself, decade after decade. Yes, there have been misfires along the way. But even Crystal Palace have been known to lose the odd match (imagine how much it hurt to type such a thing!).

If He Were American…

This is just a theory. And, as former Palace manager Iain Dowie used to say: “Ifs and ands are pots and pans.” But, surely, had Ben Elton been American, he’d get more love. The same has previously been said of Sir Paul McCartney for similar reasons: the US have always loved Sir Paul's ambition, work ethic, earnestness and prolificacy. Here, and he's previously been dismissed as a bit naff. Sacrilege!

In the US, success is often seen as proof of talent. In the UK, it’s sometimes seen as a reason to sharpen the knives. “Who do they think they are?” Elton has never quite fit the mould of the self-deprecating comic (in the way, say, Eric Morecambe, Les Dawson, Romesh Ranganathan and many more have). He’s sharp. He’s prolific. He’s unapologetically himself. And for that, he’s been both adored and attacked.

Our Salute

At Always Be Comedy, we believe in celebrating the greats — and that includes the ones who don’t always get their due. Ben Elton is a comedy giant. A writer, performer, director, novelist, playwright, and activist. He’s made us laugh, made us think and, having read his book, made us fully appreciate what an often unsung hero of comedy he is.

So here’s to Ben Elton. For Blackadder. For the stand-up. For the novels, the plays, the musicals, and the moments that will live on in the memory (watch the "Double Seat" routine and try not to think of it every time you get on a train). He’s earned his place on the comedy mountain — chiselled in granite. Sparkly suit optional.

And if you think this entire love letter to Ben Elton was actually a cheeky plug as to who is the guest on tomorrow’s episode of the Always Be Comedy podcast… well, we couldn’t possibly comment.

Spoiler: let’s be absolutely clear. It’s Ben Elton. 

All episodes of the Always Be Comedy podcast are available wherever you get podcasts. If you're yet to listen, perhaps start with Josh Widdicombe on episode one. It's a belter. And please be sure to enjoy Ben tomorrow! (or whenever you're reading this)