Words by Brianna Bullen

Alex Cofield discusses his new one man-show, Woolly: The Morose Merino, his experience coming to Australia to shear sheep, the fringe circuit, the importance of waiting for the right story, lamb testicles, and life’s tragedies and disappointments.

Alex Cofield is eager to make the most out of the time he has left in Australia. Graduating from drama school in 2014, it is only now that the Worcestershire local feels he has “the right story to tell.” Taught the adage “make your own work, as that’s always the most fulfilling,” Cofield is bringing his one man –“one sheep” – show, the magnificently titled Woolly: The Morose Merino, to Melbourne Fringe this year.

“Everything has really come together this year, and it feels like—with my visa ending shortly after Melbourne Fringe—that this could be the best way to cap-off the end. The last hurrah,” he says. He has already performed in other shows at Sydney Festival, Adelaide Fringe, and the Melbourne Comedy Festival. “It’s such a great period to be in Australia, just one festival after the other. It’s all been a whirlwind of colour. A whirlwind of culture, really. I would do it all again.”

The story itself is semi-autobiographical, about: “a heartbroken, twenty-something Brit, who decides to solve all his problems by running away to a sheep-shearing shed in South Australia.”

“What happens is a transformation into someone that’s not quite a man anymore.” His self-deprecation sets in as he adds, “he relates more to sheep than man.” The show is written for people “who like a good sort of hilarious sexual failure story.”

Having started writing travel comedy in Australia, he jokes that he is “branching out to the rural market.” Hoping to strike a chord with anyone who has ever worked in the area, Alex’s experiences in the shearing shed ranged from the mundane to the downright bizarre. “Someone threw lamb testicles at my face. That was strange. Being – what was referred to – as the ‘Pommie Jackaroo,’ it was baptism by fire.”

He explains he was invited to Australia by his cousin, a farmer from Mt. Gambier. “Everything went to pot back home. I made one too many Facebook statuses and my cousin responded by saying ‘you sound like you’re in a bit of a bind. Sheep shearing starts in two weeks—why don’t you come and help?’ And I was literally just like,’ his tone drops quietly, as if still surprised at how easy the decision was to make, “‘Okay’.”

The show itself is “about the storytelling,” and as such is prop-lite. “There is a bit of music though,” he says, adding that he is inspired by musical comedians. Tim Minchin? “Tim Minchin, a great one I’ve been doing my homework on these last few months, also Bo Burnham, Bill Bailey—I really enjoy witticisms, and playing with words. I think music can be a great way to bring that out. Funnily enough, when I first arrived at the sheep-shearing shed, I decided to buy myself a guitar—because I can’t go a year, without my guitar.”

When Cofield talks about his process he is self-aware and animated. “My comedy is very self-referential. If you can’t laugh at yourself than what can you laugh at? I think it is a true idiom that comes from tragedy and, for me, it’s a coping mechanism. These things changed my life and I could sit at home and mope about it, or I could pastiche it.”

“That’s really where I feel strongest when I’m writing.  And that ridiculous idea I had nine months ago – I followed through with it, and here I am now. So it’s a celebration of that survival factor.”