TORONTO ā It's 2013 and comedian Mark Critch is in the office space of federal Liberal Leader Justin Trudeau ā Critch doesn't know it yet but heās on the verge of a classic āThis Hour Has 22 Minutesā moment.
Critch is questioning the politician about recently admitting to smoking marijuana since becoming a member of Parliament in 2008.
He sets up the exchange: "Iāve never really been to a throne speech before, youāve been to a lot of them. Jesus Justin, itās boring stuff," says Critch, to an amused Trudeau. "The question I wanted to ask you is, where around here can a fella light up?"
As the actor pulls out what appears to be a joint, Trudeau yells "You're not going to hotbox my office, no way!"
Critch has since interviewed Justin Trudeau several times, but says that the interaction was one of the better examples of an unplanned "This Hour Has 22 Minutes" moment thatās still remembered today.
āThat was a piece of paper rolled up but I told them it was a joint. I didnāt have a lighter so that wasnāt planned beforehand since I had to get one off of somebody,ā says Critch, recalling the future prime minister's reaction.
āYou could prepare things like that or write things as you go, but it's all about listening, seeing an opportunity and going, āwhat can I do here?āā
In the case of Critch, itās this kind of improvisedjoke that positions him as one of many unforgettable comedic veterans of CBC's ā22 Minutes,ā whichon Tuesday will celebrate its 30th anniversary with a special broadcast in front of a live studio audience in Toronto.
āIn some ways, unless I think about it I still feel like the new person in town even though Iāve been here the longest,ā says Critch who has been with ā22 Minutesā since 2003. āYou rarely stop to look in the rear-view mirror, because itās such a fast pace, but looking back I love it. Itās kind of a unique and rare thing.ā
Season 30, which premiered September, intends to continue its run by introducing perspectives on topics such as the cost of living, inflation, racism, and many more Canadian politicians.
To this day, the comedian says heās surprised by how oftennewly minted Canadians approach him. āTheyāve told me how the show was this microwave-fast version of whatās going on in the country,ā he says. āIt's neat how the series can still be this kind of crash course about Canada for so many people.ā
Itās been quite the journey for both Critch and the Halifax-based CBC news comedy sketch show, aptly considered a cornerstone of Canadian culture. When it launched in 1993, the series branded itself as a segment that would run alongside coverage of the federal election when there wasnāt as much competition in political satire on television.Greg Thomey, Mary Walsh, Cathy Jones, and Rick Mercer, all from Newfoundland, were the original headliners of the series.
Mike Allison, the executive producer and writer, still remembers the perfect petri dish of untouched content the original cast had at their disposal in the early years.
āWhat Rick Mercer was doing with his Talking to Americans segment for example was so stuck in that specific time that weāll never be able to recreate it,ā says Allison, acknowledging a new set ofsensitivities to consider with the advent of social media and a far more diversely Canadian country.
āNow with 22 Minutes, Iāve had to rewrite jokes because 'SNL' did it the night before, or weād have to be careful not to say something that had already been said on Twitter.ā
Allison says that while the challenges and cast have shifted since then, the political and satirical heart of the show remains intact.
āMy job is to strive to be that voice of whatever this nation is at the moment,ā adds Allison. āItās complex and more complicated every day.ā
Aside from confronting issues surrounding COVID-19 and the Me Too movement, for example, Allison considers talent additions including Aba Amuquandoh ā the youngest and first Black woman to join themain cast ā as a considerable contribution to broadening the scope of the show.
āI know I can do my raunchy humour to topics that affect Black people and Black women, but itās a completely different thing to translate that onto '22 Minutes,'ā says Amuquandoh through laughter. āI thought, āAm I going to get there and be asked to be a furniture piece singing about Calgary?āā
Prior to the show, the comedian from Nigeria who was raised in Brampton began her acting career while she was a student at the University of Toronto, where she co-wrote and produced the award-winning play āI Can't Trust Anyone, Everyone Hurts Me." Sheās also performed at Second City and is a part of the Untitled Black Sketch Project,an all-Black Canadiansketch comedy troupe.
Since joining the show in 2020 as a writer and supporting performer, she was promoted to star in the 2021-22 edition alongside Trent McClellan, Stacey McGunnigle and Critch ā afeat she in part credits to ā22 Minutesā alumni Susan Kent, who Amuquandoh says insisted that she be replaced with a woman of colour upon her departure.
āAn intense request like that is the reason I got hired essentially,ā says Amuquandoh.
She adds Kent's silly and joyful style that provided her with a template to tap into, whether it be a sketch about a modern-day Karen or her Alanis Morissette āIronicā parody of Canadian civil rights activist, Viola Desmond.
Her admiration for the show runs deep, but she also recognizes the need for the series to present itself beyond the institution that it fundamentally is.
āCanada's changed rapidly and it needs to be represented in that way, not just from the perspective of young, Black people like myself, but for the other pockets weāve yet to explore,ā says Amuquandoh.
āEspecially with the rise of fascism, Canadians are waiting for a real opinion about our current landscape. I canāt wait for '22 Minutes' to continue to critique that, because I think weāve really been on the button with that this year.ā
This report by The Canadian Press was first published Oct. 3, 2022.
Noel Ransome, The Canadian Press
