The Civic
Review: Susan Budd
The Civic was seething last night with comedy fans out for a sampling of the acts that will make them fall down laughing over the next two weeks or so.
MC Mike King gave Kiwis short shrift for their performances on the rugby field, and his co-host Michele A'Court also had sport with sport, before moving on to pre-menstrual tension, cervical smear tests and the lamentable sexual manners of most males.
Sex is the stuff of much comedy, but it occupies a small place in the repertoire of the best talents. The indubitable hit for me was English comic John Moloney. A rotund man with a haircut he claims to be reclaiming from the "lesbian fraternity," his wit is deliciously dry and cuts to the bone.
He has the chutzpah to declare that his looks are such he needs no material, but he is the master of delicious one-liners and surprising laughs.
Jim Tavare, touted as a favourite of Prince Charles, is equally original.
Bearing a double bass, he cracks off-the-wall jokes in a tired, thin voice. Whimsical non sequiturs on yoga, Chinese restaurants and teenage memories are succeeded by silly, and surprisingly funny musical jokes.
Radar lives up to his reputation for crazy originality with a beautifully staged mime of a First World War pilot complete with aircraft and flying gear. The sound effects are stunning and it is a lovely, oddly moving piece.
Australian duo Lano and Woodley provided another highlight. They follow in the tradition of Laurel and Hardy and Morecambe and Wise, with one playing the loud-mouthed bully and the other his vulnerable butt who nevertheless always manages to have the last word. They are hilarious, witty and silly.
The 4 Noels, all three of them, give an enormously energetic performance packed with crazily surreal humour and awesome technical skills.
A gunfight with stomach-churning vocal sound effects segues into a song, a version of the Flintstones theme. It is brilliant and bizarre.
The Rhonda Movement, three women in PVC adorned with bells dangling from their nipples, are equally bizarre. They get rhythm in ways never before seen on stage - and they are funny, too.
Many of the solo acts rely on gradually gaining a rapport with the audience, and in such short segments many did not manage it. Experience tells.
Archetypal Westie Ewen Gilmour does it, and Raybon Kan in a snappy riff on the stress induced by labour-saving devices and ATM machines. Brendhan Lovegrove rips through the stories of his life and loves in three minutes flat, and Jan Maree does a nice number on desperately seeking a husband.
Laugh! Festival: Big Charity Gala
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