The Creative Land
Out On The Edge
Maclean's, July 1, 1994
Mary Walsh and Rick Mercer are Newfoundland comics who satirize Canada on a weekly basis in CBC-TV’s This Hour Has 22 Minutes. Walsh, 41, is a veteran of the CODCOtroupe, while Mercer, 24, has performed his own one-man comedy show across the country. Last week, they spoke with Maclean’s Senior Writer Brian D. Johnson.
Maclean’s: Comedy is one of our biggest exports. What is it that’s so funny about being Canadian?
Mercer: I don’t think there’s a lot funny about being Canadian. I think one of the reasons why all of those people are so successful is they know what’s really funny about being an American. We speak the same; we look the same. Yet we’re very different, so we have a good bead on America. And I think Newfoundlanders feel the same way about Canada. We’re similar but we have this attitude that we’re way out on the edge.
Walsh: We’re off the edge. We’re not attached. We didn’t even become attached until 1949 so we still carry all that baggage with us, having been a country—that sense of Canada being another country. There are Canadians and then there are Newfoundlanders.
Maclean’s: Do you define yourselves as Newfoundlanders first and Canadians second?
Walsh: I do, though I feel much more Canadian as I get to be more middle-aged.
Mercer: I’ve always felt very much Canadian and part of Canada. That’s probably my generation. But even if you’re traveling in other countries, you say you’re a Newfoundlander, and they look at you like they don’t know where that is and you say, ‘Oh, I’m a Canadian.’ If, like Quebec, we had seven million people here (there are 570,000), we’d have the exact duplicate of that situation. I’m sure we’d have a Bloc Newfoundland.
Maclean’s: Does Canada’s lack of cohesion make it a more interesting place to work?
Walsh: When CODCO started to tour Canada in the 70’s, I never had a sense that Canada was disconnected. Certainly, there was a strong sense of regionalism, but I always felt that Canadians were easily identifiable. They had a recognizable accent, and they all felt they were a lot better than us.
Maclean’s: Does Canada Day have emotional significance for you?
Walsh: I feel it’s wrong, the whole jingoism thing. I just think they laid it on in some sort of bad imitation of the Fourth of July. It’s so un-Canadian, Canada Day, it makes me uncomfortable. July 1 was never Canada Day. It was Remembrance Day, the day of the Beaumont Hamel disaster (a First World War battle in which the 1st Newfoundland Regiment was largely wiped out).
Mercer: It’s one of our greatest disasters and, you know, we love a good disaster. For Canada Day, everyone here in St. John’s is supposed to go up to Signal Hill at sunrise. That’s really hard to get together. Let’s face it, most of us aren’t going to get out of bed and crawl up to the top of Signal Hill when of course there is never a sunrise because there’s always too much fog.
Maclean’s: What about you, Mary, do you go running up Signal Hill?
Walsh: Oh yeah, right. Canada Day has only been a big deal in my lifetime since after my 20s. I suppose if it had gotten to me earlier, in my drinking days, I might have still been up on Signal Hill from the night before.
Mercer: Last year, Kim Campbell was up on Signal Hill, so she completely ruined it. There was this poor little choir of girls singing O Canada and stuff. Now, its like, I’ll never go up there again. I always end up watching television, that event in Ottawa. I’ve always wanted to be in Ottawa on Canada Day. It looks like that’s where it’s all happening.
Maclean’s: Would you really feel a stirring in your breast?
Mercer: Oh, it would definitely stir in my breast. I’m a suck like that. Free Willy made me weep. If I was on Parliament Hill and the Snowbirds flew overhead and people were screaming, I’m sure I’d feel a bit of a tingle.