I didn’t get into comedy until I was 21 or 22, in Footlights at Cambridge, even though I wasn’t studying there. I did geophysics at Durham University. My dissertation – The Effects of Glacier-Induced Isostatic Readjustment on Current Climate Change Models – wasn’t the funniest. I paid my way through university doing magic at summer balls, parties and weddings.
I’ve got two boys, seven and five, and a baby girl. It’s mad, but wonderful. Like all new parents, we had zero clue. My wife is a teacher, so we thought: “It won’t be that difficult.” Obviously it was – and still is – exhausting.
When you go to Edinburgh or start out in TV, no one teaches you how to deal with being a flop. No one tells you what to do if nobody turns up to watch you or your reviews are terrible. In the same way, no one teaches you how to deal with something if it does really well, either – even though that’s much more rare.
I already lived in Richmond [southwest London, where Ted Lasso is filmed] when I went to the casting for Ted Lasso. I’ve always jogged over Richmond Bridge. Now I’m sure it looks as if I’m trying to get spotted or that I’ve somehow turned into my character. People come up to me every day. I’ve never been part of a show that has such mass appeal.
David [Schwimmer in Intelligence] and Jason [Sudeikis in Ted Lasso] are incredibly fun to be around, but they’re also really serious about their comedy. They see it as a craft. They see it as a discipline. It’s inspiring.
Most standups would say they are a version of themselves, but I would be terrified to do standup as me, which is why I do it as my alter ego, Mr Swallow. It’s much easier to hide behind a voice or an accent and a manner that’s distinctly not me. I was a lot more Northern when I went to school, in Leeds. I still say castle rather than caastle, but my accent… It’s definitely been neutralised.
I’m not really into trash TV, but I did binge The Traitors in a week. There’s something about seeing real people cry that makes me cry, too – I’ll go at the drop of a hat. Any hint of emotion in a film or TV show is exacerbated by the fact I suddenly imagine what it would be like if it was a member of my family in that scenario. If someone’s upset in a film, I think: “What if that was my wife?”
When we shot the last scene of the final series of Ted Lasso, I had to cry. But it was so overwhelming, it felt like art imitating life. I’d have probably burst into tears even if it wasn’t in the script.
I don’t think there’s a god. My mum will be upset about me saying that. But I hope that when we die, it’s the start of a new adventure. Or maybe we’re just living in The Matrix.
Nick Mohammed: The Very Best and Worst of Mr Swallow is at the Edinburgh Fringe, from 15 August (pleasance.co.uk). He is performing at The Duke of York Theatre in September (https://www.berksnest.com/nick)
