This is the first time I’ve seen Australian men not wearing flip-flops and I’m afraid to say that that was the only thing that surprised me about this show, as it seemed to be devoid of any kind of irony or genuine humour.
The basis for the show is comedy songs. That’s it. Just a series of comedy songs which go along the lines of, “wouldnít it be funny if the pope masturbated? Be doo be doo, I wonder if he thinks about boys (tee hee hee!) be doo be doo, wouldn’t that be funny? Be doo be doo!”. Maybe it’s just me (the rest of the audience seemed to enjoy it, one guy tapped his foot all the way through), but I don’t see this kind of material as cutting edge humour.
It seemed at times that it had either been written by or for teenage boys, and in an environment as competitive and cutthroat as the Edinburgh Fringe, it seems to me that more thought needs to be put in to a show that has such a tenuous format in the first place.
There were, to be fair, a couple of promising moments, and these came in the form of the drummer and bass players, who appeared to have a more mature approach to the material that they contributed separately, although they didn’t get much of a voice as the lead singer/guitarist was generally too busy singing songs about boobs and giggling to himself to notice them.
Humorous songs can work, certainly they can, but tired material will always be tired, it doesn’t matter what tune you sing it to.
1/5
Becky Stone
