Lou Sanz – Please Don’t Use My Flannel For That: A Memoir

Lou Sanz
Please Don’t Use My Flannel For That: A Memoir

While most 18-year-olds were bludging through uni or being trashy in Europe Lou Sanz had already sold a film script to Hollywood and by 19 she was on her way to Tinseltown. However, instead of Hollywood glamour her new life involved drug dealers, cowboys, a one-breasted Spanish woman, and havoc-causing cheese allergies. This story has become Please Don’t Use My Flannel For That: A Memoir. It’s been to Melbourne and America, and now it’s coming to Sydney as part of the Comedy Festival.

While the material for her show sounds sensational in its own right, it’s 31-year-old Lou herself that’s the most intriguing part of the package. At the ripe old age of 20 she gained a full scholarship from Colombia Tristar to study at AFTRS; she acquired a Masters degree without a BA; she only has pre-paid text on her phone; she gives away presents from her parents; coffee is out because otherwise she’ll wake up in the middle of the night crying; she has a memory like steel trap.

In terms of her sense of humour, Sanz sees it as quite niche. “I couldn’t leave film school and start writing for well-known shows because I was dark and quite perverted. There’s still no forum for that to happen.” (Instead, she writes the outrageous but very funny blog, The Problematic World of You (Lou)).

Please Don’t Use My Flannel For That is a chance for Lou to play with unfettered comedic reign, and she describes the show as “funny, dark, and excruciating”. When I ask her if she draws a line for herself in terms of what she covers, she comments that, “Rape jokes seem to be du jour and I don’t like that; unless of course it’s subversive and they turn it into social commentary. Otherwise it’s too hard to stomach. But in the end I don’t think you can ever go too far.”

For some comedians, being offensive is their M.O., but with Sanz it feels like any offense is in an unintentional byproduct. Her anecdotes contain a certain childlike innocence. “Last weekend I was on this boring date. So I lied and said I got a text telling me I had to be somewhere. You know like everyone does. When I returned from the bathroom my date was holding my phone and calling me a liar. And I thought, how am I the bad one here? He’s holding my phone.”

Published in The Brag, on April 16, 2011


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