2008 Melbourne Comedy Festival shows no's 38 - 41

So, we're into the home stretch of the 2008 Melbourne International Comedy Festival, and I've got to the staggering from show to show, laughing hysterically and fleeing screaming from anyone outside the Town Hall who offers me a flyer for a show, and - generally speaking naturally - am bordering on the point of nervous exhaustion. But fuck it's been fun!

So anyway, let's talk about shows number 38 - 41, which I saw on Sunday and tonight, shall we? I took Saturday night off - a mistake as it turned out, to attend the opening night of Guys and Dolls (more of in another post) and Monday as well, it being my day of rest where the ComFest is concerned. Which basically means I've been seeing comedy six days a week, every week, since the festival opened 21 days ago. Excuse me, I feel faint... or is that my liver packing in?


DAVE BUSHELL - The Struvvel Bushell
Or, how Dave exorcises his childhood fears via a sharp, clever and damn entertaining comedy show. I first became aware of Der Struwwelpeter via the Doom Patrol comics of twisted Scottish genius Grant Morrison (who'll we'll hear more of in a moment). Basically, the book is the scariest children's book in the world, full of less than charming fables about children who suck their thumbs, play with matches, refuse the eat their soup, etc, and consequently have their thumbs cut off, are burnt alive, and starve to death. How jolly! But back to the show. Like a cheerfully deranged book club, Bushell talks us through the history of the book and the book itself, makes rude jokes about other children's authors, and generally has a good time - as did I. In fact, I hooted like a gibbon on heat throughout much of the show. Go see it - just don't suck your thumbs!
Three and a half deranged chortles out of five.


BENN BENNETT AND WES SNELLING in Black Bag
Life is a cabaret, ya? At least it is when partners in crime Wes and Benn have anything to do with it. One part tormented sibling relationship, one part beautiful takes on the most unexpected songs (seriously, I've never heard '99 Luft Balloons' sound so achingly beautiful, while a cover of Men At Work's 'Land Down Under' performed as a torch song literally brought tears to my eyes!) adds up to a superb show which rightfully deserves its nomination for the Golden Gibbo Award (awarded to a local, independent show that bucks trends and pursues the artist’s idea more strongly than it pursues any commercial lure at the festival). Bravo!
Three and a half hearty laughs/gasps of wonder out of five.


FIONA O'LOUGHLIN
A frankly underwhelming show about nursing work gone wrong, children, life in Alice Springs, the queen and camels from a Barry Award nominated comedian who I expected better of. Last year I was blown away by her show, though admittedly it was the first time I'd seen her do an entire performance rather than a guest spot in the festival club or similar. I found her material patchy, though occasionally hilarious, and her halting delivery frankly frustrating.
Two and a half solid laughs out of five.


JUSTIN HAMILTON - The Killing Joke
A comedy show for comedians, or indeed for anyone who is having a bit of a mid-life crisis and re-evaluation of who they are and they've achieved in life, Justin Hamilton's The Killing Joke is less a laugh-out-loud show, more one which sparks contemplative chuckles. The premise is simple - it sees Hammo in conversation with himself, or rather with an aspect of himself, his performance persona. It's a concept inspired by the final issue of Grant Morrison's run on the DC comic Animal Man, in which the titular superhero character steps outside the comic book and meets his writer. Certainly it's a novel idea, but as a comedy show, while I liked the meta-narrative unfolding on stage, and I certainly got a kick out of comedy that references some of my favorite comics (including another Morrison comic, Arkham Asylum), The Killing Joke struck me more as clever rather than funny. Nonetheless, an intriguing concept for a show - it's clearly evident that Hamilton is intent on pushing the form.
Three and a half chin-stroking chuckles out of five.