A precious piece [by Matt Baker]

Richard Knowles and Antonia Prebble in the Auckland Theatre Company production of The Glass Menagerie

The Glass Menagerie is a magical play. From the opening Brechtian monologue, to the blatant symbolism and dialogue surrounding the titular menagerie, playwright Tennessee Williams does not shy away from using a light theatrical shroud to expose truths. It would be easy to rely on these conventions and consequentially not find the true weight in his writing, but Auckland Theatre Company’s production of The Glass Menagerie is a beautiful blend.

Edwin Wright sets a wonderful pace for the play and continues to push through with a strong internal drive. He also finds a great amount of humour in Tom’s sardonic wit. Once the trap is set and Amanda really has something to play with, Elizabeth Hawthorne shines with total southern abandon. Hawthorne finds all the colours and tones to her vocals, and turns her words to flesh, a reminder to all actors that, according to Peter O’Toole, eighty percent of what an actor does is with their voice.

Antonia Prebble takes on what could be considered the most difficult role in the play, in that Laura could be easily distanced from the audiences' empathy with too much ‘poor me’ acting. To counteract this, Prebble is slightly showy, but ironically maintains an equal amount of theatricality to her co-stars. The limp comes and goes, but the innate nature of Laura is always there.

Richard Knowles endears himself to the audience with great charm and confidence, especially when working with Prebble, and has an incredibly subtle play against, which keeps us always wondering what’s behind the sparkle in his smile. The intimacy he and Prebble generate is beautiful to watch, and at times I found myself forgetting I was in a theatre with 300 other people.

Set designer John Parker makes great use of the revolve, operated by Natalie Braid, and the warehouse crates and barred window give a good sense of the claustrophobic world in which Tom lives. The lighting (Bonnie Burril), sound (Adrian Hollay), and video (Simon Barker) designs are intriguing in the fact that while most of the time they enhance the on-stage drama, there are times when they seem almost too melodramatic. However, this is more than likely due to the lack of subtlety in their fades, as the sentimentality they induce is explained in Tom’s opening monologue. With a practical application of props (a pity the smoking wasn’t allowed due to obvious reasons) from Natasha Pearl, I do wonder why the food and dishes were left to mime – poorly, as it were.

Accents are generally good, though certain middle and back placed Kiwi vowels come through sporadically. Williams is one of my favourite playwrights and The Glass Menagerie is one of my favourite plays, and I found myself exploring it in a very new way. Based on his biography, there seems to be no one more qualified to direct than Jef Hall-Flavin, and it is obvious that his actors have complete faith in his abilities in the role. Nothing is forced, and there is great confidence in this production, but it is never egocentric, always maintaining a modest southern mentality.

* Air conditioning seems to be a featured extra in the theatre – dress warmly.

The Glass Menagerie is presented by Auckland Theatre Company and plays at Selywn Theatre until 8 June. Details see ATC. 

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Kate Ward-Smythe

Some things you can’t learn in school [by Matt Baker]

I Wish I Learned

Composer, lyricist, and musical director Vicki Millar has a Masters Degree in Musical Theatre (specialising in Writing), so I am surprised that I Wish I Learned came across as such a primary level production. The story is devoid of plot and is instead driven by the characters, who, by themselves, are simply not interesting enough to carry a show. Until a specific series of consequential events are kneaded into the script as opposed to characters switching their thought track to fulfill the sound track, and until the dialogue is (heavily) edited, the story, and consequentially the show itself, remains incomplete.

The show’s narrative is structured via the musical scale and the songs’ titles are not without their charm. There is always freedom in structure, and there is something incredibly satisfying, especially for those who are musically inclined, about the song-list and the slightly kitsch way in which it is presented in the programme, but more work is needed to authentically translate this spectacle element to the stage.

Alexandra McKellar manages to wrap her mouth around some insanely fast lyrics, and does well to draw us into the world of the show in her opening number. Nathaniel Ta’ase hits one or two of his comedic beats, but overall his youthful appearance and lack of gravitas does not lead me to believe he is a divorcee, and, if they did, his effeminacies would indicate why there was “no passion” in his marriage. The first duty of an actor is to be heard, and it takes time to adjust to the non mic’d vocals, especially with the superfluous busyness in the beginning which has actors faces buried in boxes or facing upstage. The tone finally arrives, however, in the form of Michael Murphy, who projects with an ironic clarity considering his nonchalant attitude and capricious behaviour.

The world in which I Wish I Learned takes place is rather unique, in that people say exactly what they mean and how they feel. There is, quite literally, no subtext. Add to this the paint-by-numbers direction of Matthew Grice, and the result is that the performers have no play against with which to work. McKellar, Ta’ase, and Shaan Antunovich, all graduates of the National Academy of Singing and Dramatic Art, each give relatively black and white performances, relying on their songs to provide all the colour to their characters. It seems as if all they need is a song to take all their troubles away before we move on to the next crisis. Antunovich, however, does make a sincere effort to connect with Murphy, who, while lacking in stage technique, precipitates a deeper emotional portrayal in comparison to his theatre-trained co-stars.

McKellar’s choreography is as bizarre as much as it is unnecessary, though Murphy does well to continue to allow his characterisations to seep through his movement. Cross-fades are practically non-existent in the uncredited lighting design, with the theatre continually being pitched into near total darkness before solid dull blues and hot reds blast the stage.

At one point, Murphy says, “I don’t think this is the time, or the place,” and I couldn’t agree more. When characters aren’t singing, they simply sit around waiting to interject their stereotypical perspectives on life to one another, and, surprise, surprise, some of these perspectives conflict. Regardless of this conflict, no one leaves, no one really gets upset, and everyone lays their cards out on the table. Miraculously, everything works out and we’re left with a reprise of the titular song [Things] I Wish I Learned [In School], while wondering why four adults ever thought primary school was the place to learn about life.

I Wish I Learned plays at The Herald Theatre until 24 May. Details see The EDGE.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Samantha Chardin

Passes the smell test [by James Wenley]

And all the people say... What?!

When it comes to Jimeoin, what he says matters far less than what he does. The Aussie/Irish comic is a fairly regular face at our comedy festival, and a top draw act – filling Sky City Theatre. Jimeoin has long perfected a dry, laid back style of observational comedy that sifts through the ridiculous in the milieu of day-to-day existence. But his biggest strength is the physical acting-out of his impressions, and an expressive face he can shape like putty.

Jimeoin and his audience are quickly at ease with one another, Jimeoin dancing along to his lead-in music, and quickly asks us if we are “ready for some jokes?”. Oh yes we are. Jimeoin has an extremely good sense of his audience, presenting his material with an inclusive wink-and-nod to us, sometimes telling us what he is doing – including letting us know he was going to go off and back on again for his curtain call. He’s also very good at judging how long he can milk laughs for; drawing his gags out long enough without getting stale. In one improvisatory moment, he was able to continue the waves of laughter by simply reacting to the audience’s laughter, thereby generating new ripples. Latecomers lead to great relatable material on how to best get past other audience members to your seat, Jimeoin miming for our education his preferred option.

Jimeoin’s content, focusing on the ordinary, is itself rather unordinary on its own. There’s a whole section of supermarket jokes, an examination of icecubes, and an analysis of different reactions people have to different smells. But again, his style sells it.

As I try to say the last goodbye to the colleague who joined me for What?!, making light of one of Jimeon’s extended commentaries on the problems of saying goodbye to people, I realised that this was the exact same thing I did after the last time I went to see Jimeoin. He is something of a comfort comedian – familiar, charming, and a guarantee of laughs rather than fresh insight.

Jimeoin's What?! is presented as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival and plays at Sky City Theatre until 18 May. Details see Comedy Festival.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Vanessa Byrnes

Clucking good fun [by Matt Baker]

James Roque is Chicken

“What do I really wanna say that I’m afraid to say?” In his eulogy for George Carlin, Louis CK noted that what made the late comedian better every year was his constant digging deeper for new material; from jokes about airplanes and dogs, to feelings and who you are, to fears and nightmares. With that in mind, 21 year old comedian James Roque dive bombs into the deep end by confronting his greatest fears in his Auckland Comedy Festival stand-up show.

Broken into three segments of increasingly fearful categories, Roque presents himself as the archetypal self-deprecating Kiwi, which induces just the right amount of empathy from his audience. The result is that said audience sticks with him unreservedly for the duration of the show. Roque addresses the fear induced by potential fights, his Fillipino heritage, Rainbow’s End, and other common – and not so common – phobias, but there is nothing negative about the way in which he engages with his topics.

The odd expletive aside (with which I had no problem), Roque is a good, clean comedian with an affable on-stage quality. He’s the funny guy in your group of friends who doesn’t make you feel belittled when he one-ups your joke with a witty one-liner. Not only that, he represents an authentic New Zealand identity without becoming trapped in its limitations. If Louis CK’s observation of George Carlin is correct, I can only wait with bated breath for Roque’s next show.

James Roque is Chicken played as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival at Brooklyn Bar and Lounge 7-11 May. 

A slice of Cornish Pasty [by Sharu Delilkan]

Hedluv and Passman doin' it dreckly

Two Cornish rappers and a Casiotone keyboard – that was pretty much all I knew when I got to the gig at Cassette Nine last night. Why not, I said to myself, particularly since we’ve recently seen big balls, classical music hooliganism and mesmerising mime mania, why not Hedluv + Passman?

We thought safety in numbers would be appropriate so we invited a few workmates along to check out this ‘experimental’ experience. The result was shock horror, a great deal of hysterical laughter and general light-heartedness all round in response to this “quirky” and “irreverent” duo.

It was not long before we were introduced to Casio rap, a genre where lyrics are laid over simple homemade beats. In fact the best way I would describe them is akin to the famous 1980s English electronic pop duo Pet Shop Boys on acid. Passman is very similar to a manic Neil Tennant who provides main vocals, and this case occasional percussion while Hedluv is more like a gormless Chris Lowe on keyboards providing deadpan occasional vocals. The contrasting characters on stage really worked giving the whole show its tongue-in-cheek tone.

To quote their manager Murray Hewitt aka Rhys Darby “I haven’t seen this much talent since The Conchords and even then I never saw that much talent.” To be honest I had no idea that Rhys was their manager. The idea of life imitating art i.e. him acting as their manager, like Murray, really tickled me pink. No wonder he was all attentive and jumping up and down throughout the gig. In fact at one point he even went up to them on stage and advised them to use the crappy microphone which he said “works better than the good one”. All was explained when I came home and watched the Seven Sharp (TV1) excerpt featuring the duo introduced by Rhys.

The best thing about the entire show was its chaotic, unpredictable nature. Not knowing what was next, left you gagging for more each time they took the 30-second break between songs, for Passman to catch his breath. We initially sat there gob-smacked, witnessing this absolutely inane performance but then upon reflection it dawned on us that the comic duo was totally genius. I must admit I felt my hubby and I enjoyed the show a tad more than our mates, mainly due to the age difference. Memories of music, with the Casiotone sound of the 1980s, came flooding back – something I believe some of our mates were a little too young to appreciate fully. No they can’t be stereotyped or you can tick a box to classify their genre but who wants to be stereotyped? To quote the dynamic duo “We’re just two musicians doing our best” and that’s all we as audience members could ask for.

Isn’t it better to push the boundaries and experiment rather going to a show that only does what it says on the tin? Which makes Hedluv + Passman the perfect combination for a Festival act.

So my advice is get down to Cassette Nine before Sunday (show closes on Saturday) and be brace yourself for an hour filled with silliness and unconventional ‘comedy’. Oh and a few bevvies to wash down the yummy Cornish Pasties beforehand can only enhance the experience even more.

Awesomeness Comedy & M. Hewitt present Hedluv + Passman plays at Cassette Nine, Vulcan Lane until 11 May. Details see NZ International Comedy Festivals 2013.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Stephen Austin

Legend [by James Wenley]

Vance Fontaine's charms are impossible to resist

Vance Fontaine is one of the best kept secrets of the Comedy Festival in Auckland. But it is a secret that needs to be let out.

From the improvisatory genius of Wellington’s Greg Ellis Vance Fontaine is the greatest New Zealand singer you have heard of. I went to his Auckland show Vance Fontaine in Command Performance on a whim last year, where Ellis and his polished live band ‘The Peculiar Sensations’ make up on the spot entries from Fontaine’s back catalogue, in any and every genre of music imaginable. As we discover in Vance Fontaine for Lovers, the Vance is a bit of a romantic – a lover of anything that moves – and he has an extensive number of love songs, and relationship advice, that he has built up over his career. Indeed, we learnt that many of us in the audience were likely conceived during a Vance Fontaine love song.

After last year’s discovery, I was keen for more Vance. I overheard another audience member exclaiming that he deserved a bigger audience than what he got on a miserably wet Wednesday evening (the second show in his Auckland season). Vance, wearing a white suit and glitter in his Elvis hairdo, put a showman spin on it in his first comments to us about having a ‘boutique’ audience tonight. As audiences goes, we threw him a real curveball. As improv, the show relies on the material Ellis is able to get out of the punters – and his first question to us, was met with awkward silence. So on cue, Ellis and the band strike up his classic hit “Love is like an awkward silence”, which showed off Ellis’ impressive pipes.

Ellis had to work doubly hard to get our reticent audience responding, and the high-risk show at times threatened to fall apart. Lovers does not seem as tightly structured as last year’s Command – Ellis says his show will take you through all stages of a relationship, but this doesn’t clearly come through, and he also asks if anyone has any relationship questions to which he can provide material – thank goodness for the audience member who asked Fontaine what his thoughts were on picking up at the RSA, to which Fontaine’s enthusiastic advocating for the senior citizen set, through song naturally, were some of the richest material of the night. The open forum structure seemed to be connected to the collective uncertainty about what to offer Ellis, but he worked his magic and found gold in other ways, by making connections with individual audience members. My friend didn’t make it to the theatre for start time, and found herself the subject of Vance’s questioning when she came to sit next to me. Soon Vance was singing the theme tune for a failed Oedipus Rex movie, in the style of Gamelan no less (show bonus: your own musical knowledge is improved), which threw some members of the Peculiar Sensations. A version of ‘Love is like an awkward silence’ could conceivably have been performed before, but there was no precedent for that unique musical reimagining! We became the subject of Vance’s questioning again on the nature of our relationship, and my colleague quickly answered that we had been married for 12 years no less! It was a peculiar sensation indeed for Vance to make up a long song that borrowed elements of my life (my daytime employment, the drama class where we met) within the context of a fictionalized relationship. Sorry Vance for misleading you, but I think we can agree it made for a much more interesting song.

The Lovers showstopper is a love medley of four different music genres, which included on our night very general country to the very specific post-80s discos. Ellis and the band are a remarkable team to watch – and they can do it all. When you catch your breath after laughing, you marvel at how sharply they come out with these tunes, key changes and all. Starting from an awkward silence, we end with head-tapping, whoops, and cries of encore. Vance Fontaine is a legend. Go see Auckland.

Vance Fontaine for Lovers plays at The Basement Theatre as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival until 11 May. Details see Comedy Festival.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Vanessa Byrne

A kick in the balls [by Sharu Delilkan]

Vela Manusaute shows off his Big Balls

The show started off in the classic Kila Kokonut Krew slapstick style that we are all familiar with. But it was not long before it was obvious that Vela Manusaute was totally on the ball. His latest show at the NZ International Comedy Festival titled Big Balls was a great way to get the ball rolling and to talk about the tough ‘ball breaking’ issues.

The tone of a show riddled with silly ball puns very quickly turned serious, making us realise that it was a different ball game altogether.

Vela’s creation of an all too familiar authority figure which can only be described as a cross between a religious leader and a motivational speaker was powerful, making the delivery of his ‘balls’ of wisdom unstoppable. It was great to see a Pacific Island created character, however insufferable, giving his fellow Kiwis a kick in the balls with special poignancy.

His use of the ‘ball’ metaphor was a great device, as opposed to sermonizing, which in turn made the audience immediately play ball rather than allowing the subtext to fall on deaf ears.

Many difficult and contentious issues were pertinent to the Pacific Island community, from which Vela hails. However his ability to make light of rather serious issues such as child abuse, religion and health made you keep your eye on the ball at all times, as an audience member. It also proved that Vela indeed has ‘big balls’ because he had the courage to broach these controversial issues that are too often swept under the carpet.

And the amazeballs thing about the show was that the no-holds-barred performance left no one safe, not even his ball and chain Anapela, in the audience tonight, was left unscathed.

Just when you thought a balls-up was about to occur the show went from balderdash to genius that reduced the crowd from nervous laughter, to shocked silence back to hysterical laughter again.

Putting his ‘big balls’ on the line was something that could have easily bounced back in his face. But he totally succeeded – the audience hung on his every word laughing and heeding the serious messages throughout the hour-long show.

Interestingly you ultimately realise that the ball is indeed now in our court to confront these uncomfortable subjects that we have avoided for far too long.

Vela’s decision to discuss these controversial issues head-on was definitely courageous and took big balls to execute.

To sum up, Vela’s show begs the question: “What is courage?” – This is.

Kila Kokonut Krew presents Vela Manusaute in Big Balls plays at Loft, Q until 11 May. Details see NZ International Comedy Festivals 2013.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Bruce Robertson

Boys from Britain triumph again [by James Wenley]

If they are idiots, what does that make me?

British sketch comedy quadrangle Idiots of Ants were my favourite acts in their Auckland debut at last year’s Comedy Festival. Amidst an amusement of stand-up comedians, Ants are a fresh and lively point of laughter-filled difference. Sketch as a form seems to be viewed as a bit antiquated today – it had its heyday in the Oxford/Cambridge humour of Monty Python, and the form has been noticeably absent in New Zealand since the days of Billy T James. What the members of Ants (Andrew Spiers, Elliott Tiney, Benjamin Wilson and James Wrighton.) do so well is take both a clever meta-ironic commentary on the form, but also wholeheartedly embrace the silliness of it all. And in Model Citizens especially it’s how they use us – their audience – that takes the show to a gleeful brilliance.

It doesn’t take them very long at all when the first sketch starts for the Idiots of Ants to turn to us and break the fourth wall – the loose premise of the show is that the boys live in a flat which just happens to have one very special feature: a live audience who think everything they do is funny and then mysteriously leave after an hour.  It’s just the start of many wonderful moments between the idiots onstage and the ants below, including the song ‘The man who took the audience to dinner’, which extends the idea of group dating to its logical extreme, and has the audience enthusiastically participate with powerpoint provided dialogue. It all culminated for this reviewer with a knock to the head with a stale bread roll flung into seating. This isn’t a show that pulls up red-faced audience members onstage, but the audience’s participation is an important part of the show. And the Ants lads charm us enough to make us want to too.

Sketches often revolve around absurd ‘what ifs’, like what if all conversations happened at gun-point? Or what would happen if the hangman game played out in real life? They avoid politics or too heavy social commentary, but if there is something deeper to be taken from the frivolity, many sketches do speak to schizoid blokes in a post-post feminist landscape: they coo over babies before tossing them in the air or, in another, they apologise if they have offended the front row, which happens to be made up entirely of women. Sketches run from 5 seconds to a good five minutes, and some material is weaved and reincorporated throughout the show.

Some sketches are familiar for those like me who saw their show last year, like their favourite ‘Dad Jokes’ sketch, which was also televised as part of the 2012 gala, and played out as I had remembered it. What it did provide was an opportunity to reflect on how good their craft is: vocal inflections, physical quirks and well honed timing exactly rehearsed to deliver the most laughs. But they also can adapt at lightning speed to whatever each night’s audience throws them. They are a team that know and play to their individual strengths, a unit that together produces comedy gold.

The flatmate premise that ties Model Citizens together is not as conceptually strong as their self-titled show last year, but is perfect as a first introduction to Ants, or for continued appreciation for second-comers like me. Their encore, which manages to get the entire Q audience to stand and join in, leaves you with an exhilarating feel-good factor as you leave the theatre… to be greeted by the Ants members giving out free badges and encouraging us to tell our friends if we liked it – “it’s a big theatre to fill!”. Well I liked it, so, if you want a break from those comedians behind the microphones, Idiots of Ants are your men.

Idiots of Ants: Model Citizens plays at Q's Rangatira as part of the 2013 NZ International Comedy Festival until 4 May. Details see Comedy Festival.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Chris Page
And you can read Sharu Delilkan's review of Idiots of Ants from last year too.  

Victor Victorious [by Sharu Delilkan]

Rainer Hersch does Victor Borge

It was sad to see the sparse turnout for what proved to be a truly professional show – something that Rainer Hersch picked up on and immediately incorporated wittily into his slick intro.

His candour with the audience from the get-go about his inspiration to create a show around Victor Borge – more out of curiosity rather than initial idolising – set the stage beautifully for this personal account. He admits that after repeated comparison to Borge, in response to his own BBC show, he felt compelled to research the Danish musician who ran away from the Nazis to ultimately become the world’s highest-paid entertainer during the 1960s. In addition to taking us on an historic journey, it was this personal journey of discovery that gave the entire show authenticity.

Hersch's set of a Steinway grand and piano chair is simple and effective, and is aptly complemented by his coat and tails as well as white bowtie. While a majority of his act comprises clowning on the piano, the intelligent wordplay that completes his stand-up displays Borge's unique talent.

The show very skillfully juxtaposes the classical greats such as Beethoven, Grieg, Mozart, Offenbach and Rachmaninoff against the likes of Andrew Lloyd Webber, ABBA and even Michael Jackson. In addition to Hersch’s agile fingers as a virtuoso pianist mirroring Borge’s talent, he exhibits an equally agile tongue with the number of accents he tackles including South African, Irish, American, German and Kiwi.

I was initially concerned that the use of classical music excerpts would tire after a while but references to pop culture, audio sound effects and Hersch’s own experience as a standup comedian kept it fresh and varied. In a way it could be classified as the comedy classical music version of The Complete Works of Shakespeare in 90 minutes, but with a healthy addition of reality and a journey of discovery for the performer himself.

The middle-aged Mozart lookalike was charming, entertaining and above all clever – he commanded the stage and audience with confidence and poise, which made us forget about the less than optimal turnout prompting frequent laugh out loud fits. Hersch also played brilliantly and self-depreciatingly on his half English, half German heritage with some home truths and emotional moments about Borge’s experiences as a Jew in the (don’t mention the) war, and his struggle for success.

Borge’s phonetic punctuation was probably the highlight of the evening for me. It is impossible to explain it without giving it entirely away – you’ll just have to got check it out to appreciate the amazing onomatopoeic sounds that he expertly executes. The show is a well-oiled production, which has been honed to perfection. The deft weaving of Borge’s story with perfectly timed musical effects, lighting cues and opera surtitles that enhanced Hersch’s equally polished delivery were truly hilarious, leaving the audience in stitches.

Rainer Hersch’s Victor Borge is a well-paced, charming, smart and funny show that I would recommend to anyone – and will do so as more people deserve to see this gem. And one of the best things about the show is that you don’t need to know who Victor Borge is. Similarly you don’t need to know or even like classical music to enjoy the show. The way in which he has strung both old and new together with a great deal of skill and precision makes it a light entertaining evening that can be enjoyed by young and old alike.

Rainer Hersch's Victor Borge is presented by Masterpiece Entertainment Ltd and plays at The Comedy Chamber, Auckland Town Hall until 11 May. Details see NZ International Comedy Festival 2013.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Nik Smythe

Bizarre and Expected [by Sharu Delilkan]

Doctor Brown in Befrdfgth

To be honest I had no idea what to expect when I turned up to watch Doctor Brown in Befrdfgth. I chose to review this one merely because the limited write-up, that gave nothing away, insinuated that it would be a show like no other.

And that it definitely was. The slick act, that proves that a picture or a visual show paints a thousand words, starts off very modestly and quickly lulls the audience into a false sense of security. But don’t be fooled. Doctor Brown (American writer and comedy performer Philip Burgers) is insane at best, an absolute lunatic at worst – who holds nothing back.

His ability to push the boundaries, while getting the crowd to participate, is both refreshing and intriguing. In a world that is overloaded with political correctness, it is great to see someone who doesn’t let anything or anyone hold him back. Even I was the butt of one of his antics when he decided to hurl my review notepad across the room. Luckily for me it came back via the audience like a boomerang.

The words ‘audience participation’ generally strike fear into the hearts of all (apart from those lucky individuals with no shame) but the difference tonight was that we were all manipulated into being willing participants in a master class of mime, acting, involvement, inclusiveness, silliness, cleverness and downright skill and talent.

Doctor Brown takes us through a number of repeating but ever expanding scenarios rather like starting the “there was a spider that swallowed a fly” rhyme, linking scenes in an intelligent and unexpected manner. There was an abundance of theatre-craft on display tonight. The apt music from the deadpan musician on-stage, ingenious lighting, curtains, set and the auditorium itself all complement the show and enhance its themes.

In a way I was almost a bit disappointed when the mime finally spoke but this was short-lived as it was yet another device to encourage the audience to get with, in, behind and ultimately in bed with Doctor Brown. While his attire was reminiscent of a peasant in Monty Python’s Holy Grail, he truly terrorised the audience and ultimately drove a majority of the crowd to hysteria.

So I suppose it’s no surprise that this show has recently won a string of awards including the Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award 2012, Best Show Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award 2012, Melbourne International Comedy Festival Barry Award 2012, Total Theatre Award 2012 and the Breakthrough Act 2013 Chortle Award.

On the surface the show is simplistic in nature. However to be able to command the entire room’s attention for a full 60 minutes, particularly living in an age with limited attention spans, is truly commendable. But to do it without any audible words is even more impressive.

The post-show discussion was intense with a large slice of happiness and joy on the audience’s faces as they drank the free booze and ate the yummy tucker laid out for the opening night crowd.

If you only get a chance to see only one show at the festival, I recommend Doctor Brown in Befrdfgth. It will “make you laugh silly” in keeping with the NZ International Comedy Festival’s tagline – something we could always do with a little more of.

Doctor Brown in Befrdfgth is presented THE EDGE and the New Zealand Comedy Trust and plays at The Herald Theatre, Aotea Centre until 4 May. Details see NZ International Comedy Festivals 2013.

SEE ALSO: Theatreview.org.nz review by Stephen Austin