The Mighty Boosh

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Boys from the Boosh
With their Lurex-clad, psychedelic silliness and anarchic punk humour, the Mighty Boosh have been catapulted from the Edinburgh Fringe to the BBC. Amy Raphael catches up with them to talk sudden fame, instant families and stupid haircuts
Sunday October 21, 2007
The Observer

Noel Fielding is sitting in a dark corner in a bright-red Joan Jett jump suit, staring absently at his odd socks. His feet are killing him. He only has a short break between takes but the knee-high, stack-heeled boots, made by the same designer who once worked for Marc Bolan, had to come off. 'God, I feel as though I'm in Sweet today,' he says, rubbing his toes and swishing his shoulder-length bottle-black hair. He may be in costume just now, but Fielding is nothing if not glam rock. He is, he later says, fascinated by his own image and what he can do with it. He is one of those people who openly admits that he always thought he'd be famous.

And maybe his time has come. It's 10 long years since south Londoner Fielding, now 34, and Leeds-born Julian Barratt, now 39, became friends after appearing on the same comedy bill at a pub in north London. Fielding had studied Fine Art at Croydon Art College while Barratt had dropped out of an American studies course at Reading University; both had fathers who loved Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, and who encouraged their sons to avoid getting proper jobs.

When they first met, Barratt asked Fielding if he had his hair on backwards (hair being a bit of a theme - the duo takes its name from Fielding's brother Michael, who as a child had really big hair which a friend called 'the mighty bush'). Barratt was also intrigued by the large gaggle of girls who went everywhere with Fielding. Both wanted to get their material heard; neither had found anyone to work with who remotely understood what was going on in their head. It was a huge relief when they chanced upon one another and decided to be the new Goodies.

Which, of course, they're not. What they take from the classic Seventies series is more the spirit of psychedelic, silly and surreal comedy. It's part of a lineage that includes The Goon Show, Tony Hancock, Monty Python, Vic and Bob. If Fielding is to be believed, the new friends went back to Barratt's place that first night and while the host played around on his Akai sampler, the guest made an eye patch out of a ping-pong ball. A decade on, the Mighty Boosh are on the verge of breaking free of their cult status and edging into the mainstream, but their approach to comedy hasn't really changed. Stage shows feature monsters made out of Jiffy bags; in the new series, Fielding briefly sports a Polo as a monocle. Theirs is a homemade, DIY, punk humour that knows few boundaries.

But while they can be ridiculously funny, Barratt and Fielding can also be tricky. Interviewing them in Edinburgh in 1999, I felt slightly awkward as, hungover, they talked the alienating language of a comedy double act unwilling to fully engage with an 'outsider'. On this cool, damp August morning they are filming the third series of The Mighty Boosh for the BBC in a vast warehouse on a disused MOD site in Surrey. Fielding is in high spirits; he keeps reappearing between scenes and chatting away about Suzi Quatro's new autobiography ('She's very sexy') or a recent all-night party where he met a cat called Steve. Barratt turns up at one point in checked shirt, cords and wellies, nursing a polystyrene cup of steaming tea. He vaguely nods but says nothing. He looks frazzled; his partner Julia Davis (star of Nighty Night) gave birth to twins Arthur and Walter just four weeks ago.

As Barratt wanders off into the shadows, Fielding does another take of a scene with an unbalanced tramp. After one series set in a zoo and a second in a flat in Dalston, the third has moved to a shop. This time, the insecure, anxious Howard Moon (Barratt) and the self-assured, narcissistic Vince Noir (Fielding) work in a second-hand shop owned by their shaman friend Naboo (played by Michael Fielding). If this sounds like a move towards traditional sitcom territory, it's not: Fielding may call it a 'psychedelic Open All Hours' but director Paul King, who has worked with the Boosh since the early days, insists it's more of a homage to Tim Burton, Dennis Potter and the film Delicatessen

Taking a lunch break in his dressing room, Fielding sits cross-legged on a cheap sofa. He tucks into red jelly and ice cream and talks about how frustrated he and Barratt (who is next door, too busy creating music for the show to talk just now) are by the various labels assigned to their comedy. 'Most of all, we hate being called surreal,' he says. But despite his protestations, it's hard not to think of the Mighty Boosh as surreal: after all, they are undeniably bizarre and much of their comedy flows freely from their unconscious. Yet Fielding insists it's more fitting to refer to the influence of children's books: particularly Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are and Raggety, the spiky, scary forest creature made out of sticks who encounters Rupert Bear.

Fielding plays with his Lego necklace, pulling bits off and popping them back on again. 'I think our show is magical and fantastical. We tell very intricate, weird stories. Vince Noir is quite modern, a bit of an indie kid; Howard Moon is a bit Fifties and eccentric. We tap into youth culture - the Horrors make a guest appearance in this series - and we rely heavily on Julian's music and my animation.' He pauses and grins. 'It's such a weird shambles of stuff.'

So weird, in fact, that it almost didn't make it to television. Around 2000, Barratt and Fielding disappeared into development hell. They had done a sketch show for Radio 4, but no one was sure how to translate their act on to TV. That's until Steve Coogan, who had seen them in Edinburgh in 1999 when they were performing as Arctic Boosh, moved things along. His production company, Baby Cow, put £40,000 into a pilot and Coogan himself sold the concept to the BBC simply by saying: 'If we were young, we'd want to be them.'

The first series of The Mighty Boosh went out on BBC3 in 2004 and eventually transferred to BBC2. It was pretty much a word-of-mouth phenomenon: the Boosh had hip young fans and more than their fair share of groupies. Last winter, even Fielding and Barratt were surprised when they took their show on an extensive tour of Britain. 'It was like the Rocky Horror Show,' says Noel. 'Everyone was dressed up and there was so much screaming! We did five nights at Brixton Academy and we could probably have done more. It used to be really cool people that liked our show - freaks and artists. Now the people that bug me every day are cab drivers and chavs. We're no longer on the periphery. I wouldn't mind being really popular...'

I ask Coogan how he feels about his proteges finding mainstream success: 'When Henry [Normal, co-owner of Baby Cow and executive producer of The Mighty Boosh] and I approached the BBC about the Boosh, they were quite sceptical at first. There was a feeling that their comedy was too esoteric. But we felt there was a playfulness in their fantasies that transcended the sometimes oblique references. Monty Python often operated on two levels - sophisticated and silly - and the Boosh carries on that tradition.'

Part of their strength, Coogan feels, is their very distinct relationship. 'In some ways it is pure music hall. They have a sweet innocence coupled with a kind of rock-star cool. It's escapist and surreal, an appropriate antidote to the trend for super-naturalistic comedy we've seen recently, including some of my stuff. What Julian and Noel are doing doesn't seem at all derivative. It isn't the kind of comedy you arrive at through audience research, which is the best thing about it. They do it absolutely on their terms.'

Back on set, Julian Barratt appears in blue shorts, grey T-shirt, black flip-flops. He looks terrifying: from the shoulders up he has morphed into a fox. With the help of yellow contact lenses, a false beard, nose and teeth, he has taken on the demeanour of a feral animal. Fielding spots him and giggles. 'Look at you! Crack Fox has come for me!' But Crack Fox, it seems, is not needed just now: the scene he is to film with Vince Noir is delayed as adjustments are made to the set.

It is time to leave. Outside the hangar, as a weak sun pushes through the clouds, Fielding sits around with his long-term girlfriend Dee. Barratt sits slumped on the ground, leaning against a car. False teeth in hand, he looks less wild animal, more exhausted new father. 'Oh God,' he says, trying to summon up some energy. 'We didn't get the chance to talk... sorry.'

I meet Barratt and Fielding again last month on London's South Bank. It's warm and all the cafes are packed. They eventually settle on a balcony overlooking the Thames. We sit on very high stools at a small table, which forces an unwanted intimacy. Initially it's not unlike the interview situation in Edinburgh all those years ago, but this time they quickly apologise for being exhausted after seven gruelling weeks spent bringing series three to life.

Fielding, in black skintight trousers with white spots, glam punk T-shirt, silver snake necklace, silver pointy boots, a trashy PVC coat with furry collar and outsized black sunglasses, is still recovering from a bout of flu. He yawns, twists and turns on his seat. Barratt, wearing black shorts, Birkenstocks, a stripy red and blue T-shirt and an open checked shirt, is slightly perkier but clearly exhausted by filming and fatherhood.

I ask how the rest of filming went. Fielding pulls a face: 'It was atrocious.' Barratt smiles benevolently at his partner: 'It was good but it was hard, the hardest yet. Although it was the third series, there was no more money. We seem to have stretched goodwill from the crew to breaking point.' Fielding hugs his battered doctor's bag to his chest: 'Until you get ratings, the BBC doesn't understand. They came to see us live last winter, saw everyone screaming and said: "It's like the Beatles. It's amazing! You're getting less money!" The fact is, we will never be as big as Little Britain. Having said all this, the BBC never interferes, which is something.'

Fielding suddenly leaps off his stool. 'I've just seen a man in a Boosh T-shirt!' As he hangs over the balcony, gesturing frantically, Barratt shakes his head. 'I'm quite happy sitting here. Obviously Fielding likes to attract even more attention to himself...'

If you'd never seen them perform together, you'd be forgiven for thinking that these two are an unlikely double act. Yet virtually every comedy duo in history has been the odd couple off stage, and the Mighty Boosh is no exception.

Fielding likes to be noticed - hence what he refers to as 'the stupid haircut' - and embraces celebrity. 'I go to lots of gigs, hang out with bands, party hard. I don't think it's possible to have a better time than I've had this year. It's like my birthday every night. I DJ with seven girls, I hang around the Hawley Arms [in Camden] with Amy Winehouse, Russell Brand and Donny Tourette.' Another celebrity friend is Courtney Love. 'I went to her house at New Year and then we went to the Paramount party. I've never seen paparazzi like it. There must have been 500 photographers. It was quite a buzz, because we're never going to have that.'

And Barratt looks positively relieved. He is far more private: when I comment on his new haircut, he says bashfully: 'My girlfriend did it last night.' When asked about his new young family, he says: 'It's a whole new thing for me. Something changes inside...' He starts squirming. 'I don't know if I want to talk about it publicly. My relationship with the press is different now; it's not just me any more.' He won't even talk about where or when he met Julia Davis; he is keener to discuss his relationship with Fielding.

He traces two circles on the table with his index finger. 'There's a kind of imaginary Venn diagram of our interests: we have a very shared middle ground that's a lot to do with comedy and music and visual language. Noel then does his own thing, hanging out with the latest band. I'm always initially very cynical: who are these people, they look ridiculous.' Fielding smiles and Barratt continues. 'Usually I end up getting on with them quite well.'

Part of what works for Barratt and Fielding is their open relationship. Both regularly do their own thing, whether it be stand-up, art (Fielding), jazz (Barratt), acting in Nathan Barley (both) or The IT Crowd (Fielding). They like to invite friends, family and pop stars to appear in The Mighty Boosh (this series sees cameos from The IT Crowd's Richard Ayoade, Gary Numan, Fielding's girlfriend, both sets of parents). The more ad hoc it all seems, the better - although on occasion it can seem overly self-referential. When I visit director Paul King in the editing suite some time later, he says that the show 'needs to look homemade' and is delighted that there isn't a single proper actor in the whole show. 'It's vital that Noel and Julian appear to be pissing around, having a laugh.'

The Mighty Boosh is very good at removing the barrier between the artist and the audience: many of its fans watch thinking: 'I could do that.' Yet with a little pushing, the couple admit they work bloody hard. 'I look as though I'm partying all the time, but actually we've worked virtually every day for 10 years,' says Fielding. 'It's a cycle,' adds Barratt. 'Slog, focus, panic. You work hard as hell and suddenly it gets you down. It all appears very trivial and you start thinking that perhaps you should be helping people instead, being less egocentric.' Fielding nods enthusiastically: 'By running a butterfly sanctuary in Peru.'

Given that they almost always do interviews together, I ask if I can talk to them separately. I suggest a Mr & Mr interview where they are tested - informally, of course - on their relationship. I'm surprised by their relative enthusiasm. Barratt offers to go first; Fielding slopes off to make a phone call. Within moments, there's a startling transformation. Barratt perks up. He relaxes, his shoulders drop. He even makes proper eye contact for the first time.

Julian, tell me five things about yourself, four of them true. I love jazz. I would have been a musician had I not got into comedy. My dad is a fisherman. I used to draw penises on my history books at school. I've never been scuba diving.

Tell me five things about Noel, four of them true. Noel is a girl. He can't drive. He is an extremely good football player. His nose has been broken. He didn't drink once for three years.

Who's the funniest? Noel. Although I think he finds me quite funny. He likes to make people laugh; I do too, but I'm also quite happy to make people uncomfortable. I've done interviews in the past where apparently I didn't give the journalist any eye contact. I'm a bit shy, yes. I've thought about refusing to do any press at all. All those questions you were asking us earlier... I felt slightly thwarted and crushed by this weight of having to be funny because I'm a comedian. Fielding does it much better; he rises to it.

Who's the weirdest? [Laughs; pauses] We've both got pretty idiosyncratic taste. Noel's gift is his ability to see his weirdness in the guise of a small child telling an adult a story. His weirdness has a friendly face.

Who's the sexiest? Fielding.

Who's the most rock'n'roll? Um... er... I suppose Fielding is flying that flag at the moment. I don't know that I've ever really been rock'n'roll. I like the countryside. I like chopping wood. I'd like to be a carpenter...

Who is the most boring? I've got a lot of friends with whom I discuss jazz.

Who's the most neurotic? Me. I can have a sleepless night worrying about a joke.

If you fight, does one or both of you sulk? We both sulk. We can get fired up quickly. Noel tends to say what's on his mind; his subconscious is very close to the surface, which is part of his gift as a comedian. I bottle everything up and then explode. Most comedians are borderline psychotic. It's what makes their work interesting.

Fielding approaches, looking hopeful. He is, it appears, anxious not to be left out. Barratt lies down in the shade, talking on the phone. Fielding takes a photo of him on his own mobile: 'Huckleberry Finn'. He whizzes through the questions then asks if he can do them again; he wants his answers to be as good as Barratt's. He also, interestingly, performs better alone. Even the yawning stops.

Noel, tell me five things about yourself, four of them true. Jesus! I'm Jesus. I like clothes. I'm tired. I'm trying to reintroduce a sense of magic, of the fantastic into society. I have an affinity with animals.

Tell me five things about Julian, four of them true. Julian wants to make a film. He's a father. He's often funny but doesn't know why. He's obsessed with logic, which he often uses to portray absurdity. He's made of coins.

Who's the funniest? Him. Physically and on a basic level, he's funnier.

Who's weirdest? I have the weirdest ideas. I dress more strangely. My stand-up is more ridiculous and silly; it has no foundation in reality whatsoever. Julian can seem quite offish when you first meet him. People find him offensive, rude, short-tempered, impatient. But he's not really. It's just his natural state; he's quite preoccupied and twitchy.

Who's the sexiest? [Laughs] Julian. I hope I'm sexy, too... Sometimes I look in the mirror and see a woman. My nose has never been broken, but it's a fucking weird shape.

Who's the most rock'n'roll? Me. My mum and dad had crazy parties throughout the Seventies. They listened to a lot of Jimi Hendrix, Mick Jagger, Led Zeppelin. There was a lot of drink and drugs around. So I'm more rock'n'roll by nature. I go out and don't come back for days.

Who's the most boring? [Laughs] Julian. My great fear in life is of being boring. He's like a teacher; he reads dry books, smokes a pipe and wears corduroy.

Who's the most neurotic? He's the most neurotic person I've met apart from my girlfriend.

If you fight, does one or both of you sulk? We very rarely fight and neither of us sulks. Never. Did he say we both do? [Looks genuinely horrified.] This is fucking brilliant.

Barratt returns to the table, smoking a cigarette he talked a tourist into giving him. To distract from the lack of agreement on sulking, I ask if it seems like a long time since they first met. 'I suppose we've changed quite a lot in 10 years,' offers Fielding. 'I was quite cocky back then; I thought I was supersonic.' He pauses. 'I couldn't tell you what life was like before Julian. He made me. Out of scraps.' Barratt joins in: 'In Pakistan.' Fielding starts giggling. 'Why is that so funny? I love that word: Pakistan. So when you made me in Pakistan, what was going through your mind?' Barratt smiles. 'Cheap labour. I thought we could get 10-year-olds in factories to write our jokes.'

Perhaps the last word should come from Steve Coogan, who saw something in these two comedy punks when few others could. 'The Mighty Boosh is a party you are invited to where Julian and Noel choose the music and dress code, and you end up having a better time than you thought possible. It's proof you can be sexy and funny. I try to soak up as much reflected glory as possible.'

· The third series of The Mighty Boosh starts on BBC3 in mid-November (see www.themightyboosh.co.uk). An exhibition of Noel Fielding's art is showing at Maison Bertaux, 28 Greek Street, London W1 (07985 395 079), from 13 December

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Noel Fielding: The comedian is returning to his first love - painting

The venue for his first exhibition? A cake shop, of course...
By Nicholas Barber
09 December 2007
Noel Fielding: The comedian is returning to his first love - painting Noel Fielding's paintings are just as surreal as his comedy

A few weeks ago, the first episode of the third series of The Mighty Boosh pulled in a million viewers, making it the most-watched programme in BBC3's history. The stars, Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, were"really chuffed", says Fielding. "The BBC sent us champagne, and we went out and got absolutely wrecked." But a Little Britain-style promotion to BBC1 isn't likely, even if the duo's DVDs are bestsellers and their live tours sell out to fancily dressed students. "When I watch BBC1, I realise why we're not on it," reasons Fielding. "It's a pretty strange, quirky little show."

That's putting it mildly. The Mighty Boosh is a sort of sitcom that revolves around a classic sitcom act. Fielding, 34, bounces with Tiggerish enthusiasm, while Barratt, 39, is his crotchety, perpetually disappointed foil. Ratcheting up the laughs, Barratt and Fielding's characters go off on bizarre yet low-budget adventures to caves and desert islands populated by mermen and yetis. It's The Goodies as reimagined by Reeves & Mortimer, or vice versa.

The duo write the show, as well as providing songs and animation and designing weird creatures, some of which have Polo mints for eyes. Where does all this stuff come from?

In an effort to find out, I meet Fielding at a patisserie in Soho. He's not hard to spot. Like a technicolour version of his friend Russell Brand, he has a permanent grin, Mr Punch profile, and the shaggy hair and dress sense of the New York Dolls: this afternoon he's wearing a floppy black cowboy hat, long black coat, red Mighty Boosh T-shirt, tight polka-dot trousers and silver shoes. While Barratt is a publicity-shy family man, Fielding is an extrovert tabloid fixture who immediately starts talking about his mate Johnny Borrell from Razorlight, and about how Frank Zappa's daughter knitted him "this really long amazing cape". You don't interview him as much as dip a bucket into his burbling stream of consciousness. The only way he can relax, he says, is by painting.

As it happens, that's what we're here to discuss. Fielding's debut art exhibition is about to open in a room above the patisserie. "I know people want me to have an exhibition because they like the Boosh, but I decided it should in somewhere small, so the pressure wouldn't be so massive. I was thinking, maybe I should have done it anonymously. I was thinking of calling myself the Jelly Fox, and having some sort of armour on so no one would know who I was."

Fielding needn't worry. Judging by the few works already at the patisserie, and a few others he shows me on his cameraphone, one thing is obvious: the boy can paint. What's more, his offbeat, pop-art pictures are seriously commercial. They'd sell as fast as the patisserie's hot cakes whoever the artist was. The fact that it's a television star with famous friends will only bump up the prices.

Fielding always wanted to be a painter. He didn't get "sidetracked into comedy" until he was studying fine art at Croydon Art College, and had to create a performance piece based on a book. He chose the Bible. The piece began with Fielding hanging from a crucifix, and suitably sombre music playing. Then he leapt off the cross to "Jumpin' Jack Flash" and squirted holy water at his fellow students from a water pistol. "Everyone thought it was the funniest thing ever," he says, with chirpy honesty rather than arrogance, "so I thought maybe I should do some stand-up. I did my first three gigs in character as Jesus, because I didn't know whether I'd be funny as Noel. Then I thought, 'Jesus is a pretty powerful character, how am I going to follow that?'"

Encouraged by Harry Hill and Phill Jupitus, Fielding developed his own brand of fantastical rambling, and soon met Barratt, who liked to take off on similar flights of fancy. "I thought, this guy's very interesting and talented – great performer, good music and pretty cool – Julian went to drum'*'bass clubs, he knew about youth culture. When we found each other, we thought, we need to do something that will make our friends laugh – cool people, people in bands. That's why we started our own comedy nights, because at that time Jongleurs was weird. People would be drunk and have a meal while watching you. They just wanted straight jokes. There was nothing there Julian and I could be part of."

In 1998, they went to the Edinburgh Fringe with a show that was different from everything else: an hour-long absurdist pantomime, with music, costumes and home-made props. They won the Perrier Best Newcomer Award. The following year, they were nominated for the main Perrier Award, and they've been exploring their own wonderland, and growing their audience, ever since. Next year, their tour includes a night at Wembley Arena, they're planning to do some TV in America, Mark Ronson has offered to produce their album and they have an idea for a film. Fielding is also a regular on Never Mind the Buzzcocks and The IT Crowd, but hopes to take a year off soon to focus on his painting. Which brings us back to the exhibition.

The paintings haven't been hung yet, so the gallery owner leads us to the basement where a few of them are stored. A friend of hers, the actor Bernard Hill, wants a sneak preview, too, so we process downstairs to a room cluttered with books and folders, with a red velvet couch against one wall, a stuffed toy deer propped on a shelf and a washing-line draped with chefs' uniforms hanging at eye level. The manageress picks up one of Fielding's paintings, which features a crocodile in a hat shouting "Show me the money!" Stylistically, it's somewhere between Henri Rousseau and Tove Jansson, creator of the Moomins. "There's a story to this one," Fielding says. "It's like a psychedelic Jungle Book." Then a glazier knocks on the door.

Somehow or other, then, we're in the basement of a cake shop between a minicab office and Jeffrey Bernard's favourite pub. The manageress is kneeling on a table, ducking under a washing line, holding a painting with one hand and shouting instructions at a glazier who's standing beside a cuddly Bambi, while a glam-rock comedian is telling one of the stars of Lord of the Rings about how a French documentary crew was filming the crocodile when it ate the director and stole his hat. So that's where all this stuff comes from. The Mighty Boosh don't make it up. It actually happens to them.

Fielding's work will show at Gallery Maison Bertaux, 28 Greek Street, London W1 (020 7437 8382), from 13 December to 29 February

Surreal things: Noel Fielding's favourite fantasist painters

Henri Rousseau
I like that Rousseau had never been to the jungle, but cobbled together jungles by going to botanical gardens and using his imagination

René Magritte
Magritte is one of my favourites, because his paintings are a bit like poems, aren't they? You don't really know what's going on

Willem de Kooning
I love the way he paints. It's so tactile it gives you the feeling he's really attacked the canvas with the paint. It's quite amazing

Roy Lichtenstein
I had no time for him at college. But thenI started painting and doing speechbubbles and thought, actually, he's quite good, I can see why he was doing that

Dexter Dalwood
He was my teacher at college. He'll do really big paintings of Graceland or Hitler's bunker, and all these rooms that he's never been to, but he's imagined

------------

anyone who likes Magritte is ok in my book.

[6ULDV8]

Thank you for those two.

I am finding Boosh 3 a bit harder on the funny.
That's to say they are trying harder & that makes the show harder to laugh at...

It could be the people behind the camera pushing them, it all just seems a lot more structured & that 'free-flow' appears to be watered down if not lacking.

But one thing is for sure, Fielding's appearances on game shows are a must for anybody, he's been great on "Never Mind The Buzzcocks".

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For myself I was drawn in a huge amount by the first series then didn't like the second, so after that I was a bit retiscent, but this third series has been great.

anyway, here's another feature about Fielding's art.

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He's a Mick Jagger of comedy ...
sweet but unbelievably mischievous and naughty, like a very cheeky puppy
Sam Jones
Friday December 14, 2007
The Guardian

One of the earliest meetings between Russell Brand and his friend and fellow comedian Noel Fielding was as whimsical and rambling an event as one would expect. A few years ago, before either was particularly famous, the dandyish, kohl-adoring pair met at the NME awards. "I was working at MTV then and still using drugs," recalls Brand. "We had an amazing conversation talking about Rasputin and about eating Refreshers made of black onyx."

Over the past decade Fielding's ability to hopscotch his way through the realms of the fantastic, nonsensical and downright bizarre - fluid enough to keep pace with the thrusting and parrying of even the most addled of minds - has made him one of Britain's most recognisable cult comedians. But he may be about to shrug off the cult tag thanks to his multimedia assault on the world of art and entertainment.

The Mighty Boosh, the sitcom he writes and acts in with his comedy partner Julian Barratt is back on BBC3 for its third series, an exhibition of his paintings opened yesterday in a gallery above a Soho coffee shop, and he and Barratt guest-edited an edition of the NME last month. Fielding, who is 34, has also found the time to fill in for Bill Bailey as a team captain on Never Mind the Buzzcocks for three episodes.

As significant was the pair's recent appearance on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross, whose leather sofa appears to be a portal to genuine celebrity. Nor does it hurt that - in contrast to Barratt, an altogether quieter man who recently had twins with his partner, the actor Julia Davis - Fielding seems forever to be out and about with the likes of Brand, Courtney Love, and Johnny Borrell of Razorlight.

Despite his social circle, though, Fielding remains best known for his comedy, especially the Mighty Boosh, which he describes as "a psychedelic Open All Hours". (Barratt prefers "Mr Benn with beats".) The pair won the Perrier award for best Edinburgh newcomers in 1998, and five years later Fielding received the Time Out outstanding achievement award.

Henry Normal, who founded Baby Cow productions with Steve Coogan, remembers falling under the duo's spell almost at once. "Steve went to Edinburgh and saw them and when he came back he told me he'd seen the best thing there," he says. "I saw them the next year and we chatted to them and took an idea to the BBC." Baby Cow bankrolled the pilot, which eventually gave rise to a series on BBC3. "When they do a show they build a world that you want to be part of. It's like a party - you just want to enjoy that world and be at that party."

Fielding, he adds, is a perfect host. "Noel is a beautiful, gentle, creative soul. He is also a brilliant graphic artist and painter." Stuart Murphy, who is now the director of the Twofour media group but commissioned The Mighty Boosh when he was controller of BBC3, views him as "a Mick Jagger of comedy ... he is utterly sweet but unbelievably mischievous and naughty, like a very cheeky puppy."

The Rolling Stones comparison - which Fielding, with his trademark, crow-black thatch of hair, skinny frame and pronounced androgyny does nothing to dismiss - is more physically apt than psychologically accurate.

Brand, who will again team up with Fielding for the annual Channel 4 Big Fat Quiz of the Year, argues that his talent is more noteworthy than his looks.

"When I talk to him it's insane because his facility for language and imagery is inspired. He is a very talented artist with his tongue or with his brush. Painting comes very naturally to him. I will be going to his exhibition and may even make a purchase."

According to Brand, Fielding is "largely" the same person in public and in private and does not seem to fit the stereotype of the troubled artist, depressive comedian or rock hooligan: "He's certainly never burdened me with his problems." Nor is his personal life as chaotic as it first seems. When not at gigs, pubs or parties, he lives in north London with his long-term girlfriend, Robots in Disguise singer Dee Plume, who has made several appearances on the Mighty Boosh.

The Stones aside, Fielding often finds himself compared to various members of some of the most famous British comedy ensembles of the past 50 years. The Goons, Monty Python and Vic and Bob crop up frequently. Murphy likens the Boosh to the Goodies - "larger than life and childish in a really good way" - but Normal sees parallels with a rather different double act.

"I don't see them as being particularly British," he says. "I think the nearest thing they are like are Bob Hope and Bing Crosby in their Road to ... movies, where you watch it and they both have charm and you think that either one of them can get the girl ... I think Noel is Bob."

Fielding's artistic side - he studied fine art at Croydon art college - is currently finding expression in the series of colourful canvases on show in Soho, which bear the idiosyncratic title Psychedelic Dreams of the Jelly Fox.

Murphy, however, thinks the comedy and the painting could be just the tip of a hefty creative iceberg.

"Noel could so easily do what Baddiel and Newman did and sell out Wembley in a rock'n'roll way," he says. "I don't think he'll be a Hollywood actor, but I can imagine him doing something different, like coming back with a rock band or writing children's books."

The CV

Born London, May 21 1973

Education Croydon art college, Buckingham Chilterns University College

TV credits The Mighty Boosh, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Nathan Barley, Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, The IT Crowd

Film Plunkett & Macleane (1999)

Awards Perrier best newcomer winner with Julian Barratt (1998), solo Edinburgh show Voodoo Hedgehog nominated for a Perrier (2002), Time Out comedy award winner for outstanding achievement (2003)

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Five up for Mighty Boosh
By Andy Welch
Manchester Evening News

THE Mighty Boosh, also known as Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, are sitting outside a cafe, dissecting the day's news by reading out prominent headlines from a paper. "Laptops are free, look," says Julian, somehow managing to make an advert seem much more amusing than it is.

The duo, who play three shows here in 2008, formed their comedy partnership after Julian offered Noel a chance to perform in one of his live shows, are taking a few days off after completing the third series of their highly acclaimed TV show, The Mighty Boosh. After a string of successful live shows around the country, they created a radio show for the BBC in 2001. Set in a bizarre zoo called Bob Fossil's Funworld, each episode saw their zoo keeper characters Howard Moon and Vince Noir get into various surreal scrapes - such as having to scour the Arctic to recruit more animals for the zoo and a hair-raising encounter with dangerous Cockney, The Hitcher.

A number of the storylines were re-used for the first Boosh series, which won a devout following when shown in 2004. Despite average viewing figures, largely due to a constantly changing time-slot, a second series arrived a year later. By that time, Howard and Vince, along with talking gorilla Bollo and mystic Shaman Naboo (played by Noel's real-life brother Michael) had escaped the zoo and relocated to a flat.

"We're in a shop for this series," explains Julian. "We still live in the flat, but we work in the shop and that's where the show starts. It's Naboo's shop, called the Nabootique. We sell second-hand nick-nacks; Howard sells typical Moon-abilia, you know, old jazz records, rubbish elbow patches and stuff like that. Vince sells fashionable clothes, records. We set all the adventures within that. We wanted the magic to come to the shop rather than having to go out and find it, so we have people coming into the shop.

"In one episode this guy comes in and his hat opens up and we go inside. In another, I get shrunk down and injected into Vince's body and travel round in a tiny submarine. We just got a bit bored of doing road movie-type plots, we've done about 10 now," adds Noel from behind his gigantic sunglasses. "We started off not wanting to make it too elaborate, but it wasn't anything like that in the end. It's ended up being more elaborate and expensive.

"We realised whatever happened we were never going to just stay in a shop; we were always going to write in a fox living outside in the rubbish, and other mad stuff. We don't really write plots where Howard's got someone coming round for dinner and I'm getting on his nerves. An episode might start out like that, but we'll always end up in a cloud castle fighting a monster that likes ska music."

This series will also see the return of several other much-loved characters. The aforementioned Hitcher is back, complete with green skin and a polo mint for an eye, as is the Spirit Of Jazz, the demon who possessed Howard in the first series. "Yeah, he's in it again," says Noel of the character. "He's in a slightly different form, though; he looks like Dougal from The Magic Roundabout this time, like a voodoo Dougal. We should call him Voogal!"

Listening to them talk, it's clear they are a double act in every sense - finishing off each other's sentences, embellishing ideas offered up by the other and correcting stories. When The Mighty Boosh first appeared, the duo earned comparisons to Reeves and Mortimer, and while that is accurate on some levels, there's more of a Morecambe and Wise-style camaraderie between them. Also, Julian and Noel are very like their on-screen alter egos Howard and Vince, with Leeds-born Barratt quieter and more direct than daydreaming Londoner Fielding, who today is dressed in outlandish knee-high boots and a purple leather jacket.

"I think we are a traditional double act," ponders Julian. "It's a balancing act to get this observational, kind of weird, social comedy in with the magical elements." If the Boosh's escapades have been magical so far, it's nothing to what might be on its way, with more live shows, a CD of music and a full-length film all under discussion. "I think the climate might be right for a Boosh film," says Julian. "Harry Potter has proved that kids and adults love magic and fantastical stuff. We have a shaman, a wizard, you know, so it wouldn't be laboured to get the magic in the plot. It could be like a Bill and Ted thing with Howard and Vince, and they can go off on an adventure, or we could use other characters like Rudy and Spider for a psychedelic western. We've got lots of ideas for it, but it would be very different to Harry Potter," he concludes.

"If we have a monster," says Noel "we'll make him like new rave or something like that. Put some new things in there, neon clothes, whatever. We just want to make things modern and fresh."

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