Reviews – Page 75 – Squirrel Comedy

Dr. Duck – General Quacktitioner

By Colin Flaherty

After a triumphant debut at last years’ festival, Dr Duck (Andrew Keen, Seon Williams, Ross Purdy, Olivia Solomons, Jon Walpole and Eidann Glover) are back with another hour of sketch madness. Sinister fishermen, an inept James Bond, bureaucratic Neanderthals and an educational piece of fruit are some of the crazy characters we meet in this amusing smorgasbord of scenes.

As with most sketch comedy the quality varies with each scenario but there are enough great ideas to keep you amused over the hour. Some are single joke premises that form a series of recurring jokes with a tepid punchline. One sketch is blatantly signposted as filler but despite being full of clever meta references it does exactly what it says on the tin. Other scenes go on a bit long and the punchlines aren’t quite as punchy as they could be. The upshot is that the journey usually contains plenty of hilarious lines, eye-rolling puns and wacky concepts to keep interest up and laughs rolling.

This is broad comedy and the cast sell the material hard; projecting to the back row and exaggerating all gestures and vocal inflections. It’s always great seeing performers exude their enthusiasm to the audience to make sure everyone has a great time. Purdy is less theatrical in his performance than the others but the oddball roles he is given are appropriate for his delivery style and have plenty of wacky dialogue to carry them.

The cast build their worlds using minimal props and lots of mime which works a treat. Transitions between scenes are pleasingly brisk and the choice of music accompanying the blackouts are cheekily related to the preceding sketch for an added giggle.

General Quacktitioner is a solid offering from this young sketch troop. I’m sure they’ll have enough interested in this fun hour to come back next year with another Anatidae/Medical pun title.

General Quacktitioner is on at The Tickle Pit until April 9
https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/the-duck-will-see-you-now

Tino Merino – You Haven’t Changed A Bit

By Elyce Phillips

Tino Merino, a US native with a family from Cuba and an Australian wife who he met in Indonesia, has travelled a lot and seen the world. But home is where Merino takes his inspiration from in You Haven’t Changed A Bit, a solo hour of storytelling from an up-and-coming comedian.

You Haven’t Changed A Bit centres around Merino’s homecoming to Chicago after a long stint in Indonesia. We meet his Sofia-Vergara-esque mother, his scheming con artist father, a grandmother who may or may not have links to a criminal organisation, and a host of other characters from Merino’s family. The stories are big and bold, and much of Merino’s family history wouldn’t be out of place in a telenovela. While the tales are often about times when his family were at their worst, they’re always told with love and affection.

Merino’s got some skill with storytelling. He fleshes out characters well, giving each one a distinct voice and physicality that’s not only entertaining but makes the tale easier to follow. The pacing of the show is good, and although not every story hit the mark – a section in which Merino plays Barbies with his young sister, for example, felt hurried and was tricky to follow – these were only minor blips in an otherwise solid show. Merino had the audience laughing the whole way through, and he’s confident enough in his performance to keep things sailing smoothly.

You Haven’t Changed A Bit is an excellent comedy festival debut from Merino. It’s a different take on family chaos that will have you chuckling and also wishing that you could go dancing with his mother some time.

You Haven’t Changed A Bit is on at Highlander until April 8
https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/you-haven-t-changed-a-bit

*Disclaimer – I’ve previously worked with Tino Merino at The Improv Conspiracy

Stuart Goldsmith – Compared to What

By Colin Flaherty

From the outset Stuart Goldsmith states that Compared To What is an hour of him learning not to be so self-obsessed. It is also the show that most new father comedians write after the fruit of their loins enters the world. He merges both themes seamlessly and puts a unique spin on many familiar topics such as parents becoming social shut-ins and the challenges of keeping your offspring alive. He has plenty of brilliant material that even those young people without children will find delightful, relatable and hilarious.

Observational storytelling is his stock in trade so he has plenty of fascinating and witty views of the world to weave through a narrative of events in his life. Stuart is a very slick performer who expertly guides us through his emotional journey. He keeps the audience on side even when his material doesn’t always paint him the most flattering light; he’s such a likeable guy.

Some of his clever lines are creepers and he tends to jump on us when we don’t immediately react but it’s done in good humoured jest. Stuart is also happy to acknowledge distractions in the room and gives them nice witty quips before quickly getting back on track. He regulary analyses the show out loud which makes me wonder if he’s just ironing out the kinks in this run (he mentioned differences in audience behaviour here compared to the UK) or if this is the way he normally works; always the perfectionist who’s trying to hone his performance on the fly. Either way, this gives the scripted performance an enjoyable looseness. Everything about his delivery seems to be relaxed with an ebullient desire to convey this wealth of material to the punters.

There is plenty of colour and movement in this stand up set to enhance the delivery. Exaggerated gestures are used to drive home points and he playfully acts out those supporting characters in his tales with a line or two. He is far from static and owns the stage.

You’ll enjoy the ride as Stuart asks himself some big questions, comes to compromises and hilariously examines the dilemmas of becoming part of a family. This is solid funny stand up from an accomplished practitioner.

Compared To What is on at the Greek Centre until April 23
https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/stuart-goldsmith-title-tbc

The Bedroom Philosopher – Cat Show

By Elyce Phillips

Crawling to the stage in a feline ensemble of tail, chest fur and knee-length dress shorts, The Bedroom Philosopher (Justin Heazlewood) set the tone for the evening ahead – very funny, a little awkward and extremely cat-based. Cat Show explores the world of cats from many angles, taking a look at their history, their propensity to disappear and their place in Heazlewood’s life.

There’s an apt playfulness to Heazlewood’s performance in Cat Show. At times, he’s as fickle and coy as his show’s namesake, toying between snippets of things he could perform. At other times, the cat parallels are more straightforward. One of the best things about Cat Show is the little details that Heazlewood throws in – batting at a pinwheel in frustration, gamboling about with a bit of paper on the floor, getting that butt wiggle just so before pouncing. This is a show with plenty of cat specifics to offer.

Cat Show’s sections of stand-up and storytelling stay on theme. We’re taken through a history of cats and there’s an in-depth look at missing cat poster design. But, of course, it wouldn’t be a Bedroom Philosopher show without music, and there’s a bunch of new songs to be enjoyed here. One detailing the pitfalls of share-housing was particularly strong. In addition to the newer material, the inclusion of old favourite Happy Cow was a treat for long-time fans.

There are sections of the show that are still a little shaky, with the occasional lyrical slip-up and self-deprecating aside. Cat Show is not a polished production, by any means. It is, however, a show that is cohesively scrappy. The costume, the props, the slideshow of a third-grade history project – they all feel right alongside Heazlewood’s lyrics about people and animals whose lives aren’t quite going right.

The Bedroom Philosopher is a stalwart of the Australian comedy scene and Cat Show does not disappoint. It’s a weird show and not without its jankier moments, but there’s an underlying charm that will win over any cat lover.

Cat Show is on at The Coopers Malthouse Bagging Room until April 9
https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/the-bedroom-philosopher-the-cat-show

Soap

By Angela East

Soap is a slick circus cabaret from Germany that has been touring the world for the past ten years. It is being presented in Melbourne for the first time this year as part of the Comedy Festival after previous visits to Australia for Brisbane and Sydney festivals, and the Adelaide fringe to wide acclaim.

Six large bathtubs set the stage. These are utilised as props by the performers in many different ways over the 80 minutes of the show. It starts with legs and arms popping out and the cast dancing up from the tubs to pop music accompanied with live operatic singing. The bathtubs replace the traditional circus staging devices, such as balance beams and juggling platforms, and also serve as stages for comedic feet puppetry and exaggerated body illusions. And of course the bath is filled with water for a climatic feature of the program.

A clownish character provides comic relief throughout the show, and though her early encounter with an audience member feels a bit gauche, it thankfully proves to be a lead in for a later act. The cast are all given their moment in the spotlight to show off their skills, and there is a lot more of the cheeky humour, including a juggling striptease, an amusing rendition of Swan Lake in nothing but bath towels, and some water-soaked acrobatics that means there is always a risk that the audience in the front rows might end up a little damp.

Some of the sections felt slightly too long and repetitive, including a section dedicated to ‘splashy splashy’ bath themed song gags, and a few of the circus feats did not quite deliver a big “ah!” moment to satisfactory conclude a set. There were however many highlights, and the cast provided plenty of chances for the audience to be wowed with their skills and strength.

Highlights included: an amazing foot juggler spinning towels on her toes, a sensual acrobatic dance between two of the male cast members which provides some gravitas in contrast to earlier frivolities, an impressive performance on straps showing off the strength and muscle of the performer, and a beautiful performance on the trapeze, the latter two performed under falling rain.

I would have loved to have seen the show pushed a little more, both thematically and physically, but Soap is sensual and refined and it has balanced this with humour and physical theatre to be a highly entertaining show suitable for all ages.

Soap is on at The Coopers Malthouse until April 22nd
https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/soap

Michael Workman: Nothing You Do Means Anything

By James Shackell

Michael Workman has lost the will to be funny. Or, more accurately, the will to be the niche brand of funny that leads to critical acclaim, personal fulfilment and abject poverty. Since he stormed onto the scene way back in 2011 with Humans Are Beautiful, he gained a rep for thought provoking fables: well-sculpted parables on the human condition that left 30% of the audience confused, and brought the other 70% to tears. The awards flowed in. His 2012 show Mercy got its own DVD. He picked up his first Barry Award nomination in 2013 for Ave Loretta. Compared to the average Australian comedian’s trajectory, which begins with an Arts degree and ends somewhere in Human Resources, things couldn’t have been going better. There was only one catch: he wasn’t conventionally popular.

His latest show, Nothing You Do Means Anything, is about what happened next.

Fast-forward to 2016. Michael Workman has been hired on The Voyage of the Damned: a cruise ship comedian, serving up his personal brand of whimsy to a silent and aggressive room of geriatrics with their arms folded. They hated him. He finished the cruise and seriously thought of giving up comedy for good – old people can be mean when they want to be.

This is the kind of soul-tearing, existential crisis from which grew Nothing You Do Means Anything. The title, we realise, refers to Workman himself. His own doubts about the merits of artistic integrity when measured up against stuff like money and popular success. “I can be a hack. I can be,” Workman rants at himself, while deliberately trying to channel a ticket-selling persona, or the naff pull-back-and-reveals which probably would’ve have killed on the cruise ship. It’s tongue-in-cheek meta comedy at its blackest nadir. Like watching Keith Richards get up on stage and smash his guitar with tears in his eyes.

Having said that, I laughed a lot. I thought a lot. And the show’s stayed with me for days since, living in some back pocket of my mind, resurfacing at odd moments. In other words, even when Workman is trying not to be Workman, he can’t do it. He can’t not be clever and articulate and niche and cynical and challenging. He’s too much himself for that.

There’s a point in the show where Workman references Bill Hicks, the great 90s comedian, whose last words on stage were “I don’t want to do this anymore.” But there’s another Hicks quote that’s relevant here: “When did mediocrity and banality become a good image for your children? I want my children listening to people who f***ing rocked! I want someone who plays from his f***ing heart.” Amen to that.

Michael Workman performs Nothing You Do Means Anything at The Chinese Museum

https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/michael-workman-nothing-you-do-means-anything