An Indecisive Bag of Donuts

0 Comments 10 October 2011

As a fellow sufferer (well, more like casualty) of a raging procrastination habit, I feel an affinity with Lawrence Mooney.
Not that he necessarily needs my empathy, as even the most pedantic do-gooders are sure to relate with his romp of a show, An Indecisive Bag of Donuts.

A 60-minute exploration into the mind traps of perpetually postponing work, the show seamlessly narrates a day-in-the-life of Mooney whilst attempting to write new material. Depicting a myriad of supposed “distractions” he faces, dialogue effortlessly drifts between accounts of loitering at shopping malls, the challenges of parenting, the ‘voice’ we put on for our pets, and toilet humour (quite literally).

It’s testament to Mooney’s skill as a performer, not just a comedian, that such a breadth of material can be covered and never seem clunky or self-indulgent. His routine is succinct, and aided by a flair for physical, expressive comedy.

But then Mooney is, after all, an experienced chap.
A longtime favourite of the comedy scene in Melbourne, with a career spanning nearly 20 years that also includes stints on TV and radio, Mooney knows what works.
His ability to construct rapport with an audience is certainly immediately evident, as the crowd is on his side from the get-go.
Mooney’s comedic banter is perfectly suited to the rather small venue of the Lithuanian Club’s Ballroom in North Melbourne.
In anything, the small venue only highlights the great strength of Mooney’s comedy in its light-hearted, conversational approach.
It simply radiates a charming, yet still embittered, sense of self-deprecation. “Compassionate misanthrope” might appear an oxymoron, but Mooney is the exception.

There is in fact, a striking similarity apparent between Mooney’s comedy and the donuts he professes throughout as his favourite, procrastinators’ snack.
Just as with those fried rings of pastry he confesses to waywardly indulging in, Mooney’s routine is enjoyable very much because it encourages us to take pleasure in observing our own faults and shortcomings.
Sinful treats they both may be, yet each delivered with a delightfully sugarcoated punch.

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