Talking about Bettakultcha

– So Harvi, did you enjoy Bettakultcha?
– Didn’t enjoy being on the door so much, couldn’t see a bloody thing. And you weren’t much use . . .
– Well, apologies about that. Just thought it would be nice to help out that’s all.
– But, Philip, you were no help at all. You just stood there, wittering, blocking the light. . . you make a better door than a window . . .
– I got surnames from people . . . and pointed in the random direction of the guest list whenever I met someone I knew . . . that was useful, wasn’t it?
– May have been more useful if you didn’t mumble and mangle your words so much . . . can’t understand what you say half the time. I had to get everyone to repeat themselves. I did all the work, as usual.
– Fair enough, I can’t argue . . . But apart from my competence shortcomings, illumination limitations and enunciation issues, you had fun didn’t you? . . . I saw you laughing along. You were giggling like tickled toddler when Martin was doing his thing.
– Yes, I thought it was very amusing . . . but I don’t get it.
– What don’t you get exactly?
– Erm, the whole thing. How does it work? Why do people come? What’s that all about?
– Ah . . . they manage to get an audience, a loyal audience, one that’s growing – you were there at the end when people shook your hand and thanked you cos they thought you were partly responsible for the event and not just a box ticking door monkey . . . the guys must be doing something right.
– But that’s what I don’t get . . . what are they doing that’s so good? . . . why do people come along to watch . . . to watch . . . what I’m trying to say is why do people pay good money to watch people like themselves get up on stage, and just talk about any old nonsense? What’s the catch?
– Ha, there’s no catch . . . that’s the magic . . . it works because it’s a kind of collective creative collaboration . . . a celebration of popular ingenuity . . . a carnival of underground imagination . . .
– Have you quite finished? . . . Good. What you are saying, in essence, is that Ivor and Richard have stumbled on a clever way of getting people volunteering to entertain a crowd, and then they charge the crowd an entrance fee? Brilliant.
– Nothing so cynical! You’re right that the guys didn’t plan any of this when they started out and certainly didn’t think it would develop the way it has . . . but it’s a success because the format obviously brings out the best in a lot of people. Five minutes is long enough to be a challenge but not too long to be intimidating, and the slides add an easily grasped structure . . . the slides are scaffolding, help you build a convincing performance if you know how to use them . . . the technology is freely available and simple to use . . . it’s a winner.
– But still . . . ok, I get that . . . I’m just not sure why people do it . . . why do they get so many volunteers? Volunteers who obviously put a heck of a lot of work into their presentations . . . they probably work harder on that than they do at their actual work!
– Because people like showing off. It’s that simple. The majority of the presenters are extroverts who love being in front of an audience. You do get the occasional masochistic shy type who’s got a message and a mission to spread the good word, but mostly the ones up on stage are there to entertain. Nothing wrong with that . . . Extroverts tend to have more friends too, hence the audience.
– Suppose so. But that doesn’t explain why it’s so much fun . . . how come people enjoy it so dammed much?
– Think that’s the product of a happy synergy . . . bugger, did I just say synergy? Slap me hard and send me to bed without supper . . . What I mean is that because the audience is behind the event – in the sense of feeling a kind of identification – wanting to have a good time, willing the presenters to do well, wishing it all turn out for the best – it’s a formula that can’t fail.
– You make it sound like a collective hypnotist trick!
– Again, nothing wrong with that . . . the pain of a poor presentation is dulled by quick distraction, and the good performances are magnified by the outpouring of magnanimity in the room . . . everyone goes home happy . . . call it a trick but it’s one that’s been used since we sat around a fire in caves telling tall tales of how we brought down a bison with one well timed, heroic club to the back of the head.
– Ha, so you’re saying it’s neanderthal entertainment brought up to date with a bit of modern tech? . . . quite brilliant really.
– Perhaps . . . think that’s why they keep the audience below a certain size and regularly do those secret, smaller events too . . . appeals to the primitive in all of us . . . doesn’t harm that they don’t allow pitches . . . helps build trust and all that . . . so Harvi, when do you fancy having a go? . . . Surely you want to present again!
– Maybe I shall . . . certainly considering it . . . but right now, Philip, the pubs are open . . . and don’t we have a rendezvous with a bottle of red wine somewhere? . . .
– I’ll get my coat. Don’t forget your wallet . . .