The audience at the The Gold Digger, Fringe’s newest and cosiest new venue, unashamedly screamed with laughter at the classic larrikin duo of Will and Woody as they gave world history a bit of a ‘ladsy’ perspective.

Barefoot and wearing tradie’s work shorts, the boys went about reenacting pertinent moments in history by giving an imagined first person view of each. Whether it was faking your own death on the front lines, getting in one last shag before Pompeii erupts, or David and Michelangelo having a chat about his artwork’s penile focus, they covered it all with an Australian twist.

Don’t get me wrong; this show is really quite funny for the majority of people. Your ordinary lads and lasses will absolutely love it, but there are some moments that are just a bit on the nose. Will and Woody sometimes err on the side of being a little racist, homophobic or even a little misogynistic.

While some people — myself included to an extent –  will hear this type of material and be offended, I think with these boys, you just have to take it with a pinch of salt. You can see in their comedy, sincerity, and in the cheeky backstage hug this review glimpsed between the macho pair, these guys don’t mean to be rude or malicious – they’re following a tradition of Australian comedians all backgrounds: being just a little bit crude and rude.

So swallow your pride, hold off your sensibilities and political correctness, and go along and have a bit of a guilty laugh at these two clowns. If you take it with a grain of salt, I guarantee you’ll end up having a great time out.

Will and Woody have just one show left, more information here. 

Addiction to The Cutting Room Floor is a lot like addiction to coffee – all-consuming and leaves you shaking in your boots. The Perth lads and lasses have done it again with a rip roaring, yet tender show that really gets to the quick of human relationships; namely, the ways we pursue love.

Our two leading ladies take the “stage” (more like counter top) in a modest fashion mid-conversation, and they never really stop talking until the end of the show. The entire piece is a twisted, interlocking decade-long argument between the two ladies, who are best and ‘oldest’ friends. It’s a no-holds barred food and drink fight that might leave you a little wet if you’re in the front row.

Kate and Ruby, the protagonists really tear each other to pieces, fighting and criticising their relationships and one night stands, their achievements and goals, all in the kind of pithy, cutting one-liners that I’m sure we’ve all used in a moment of desperation.

The years of friendship flow past at an increasingly rapid pace between them with each cup of coffee, as they fight, scream and really explore their different personalities they are and how they clash. While more and more coffee gets thrown on each other and the audience, all brought to them by the incredibly handsome and seeming mute waiter.

While it may pay to lower the background music at some points (as we can’t really hear what’s going on) Frisk makes a truly unique venue. Both actresses relate to the space incredibly well, using all the aspects of the “coffee shop” (including outside) as well as the general ambiance generated by the audience  to really make the performance more authentic and rooted in this relatable, everyday setting.

That is really the best thing about the play – being able to relate. We all have a friend like one of these women, and we all are one of these women. The conviction and passion that they bring to their expertly written, incredibly realistic roles, and of course the one handsome barista, all make for a performance that will have you laughing, ducking and maybe even tearing up a little bit.

If you want to see this show, you’ll have to get in fast. More information can be found here.

The audience shuffles nervously into the big top – half Shakespeare buffs and half circus fans, they know what they’ve come for. A sell out at the 2014 Fringe with their show REVEAL, Kinetica have felt the weight of expectation on them for their take on arguably one of Shakespeare’s more ‘fun’ and accessible plays. The lights dim and our four protagonists take the stage with a campy mime and nasal narrator to set our scene – this is not what we expected.

In the words of the Bard himself, “the course of true love never did run smooth,” and neither did the performance.  The acting from the lovers is crudely camp – all wide eyes and dancers’ smiles – and while the comedy is dark, it’s also a tad crass (when Shakespeare penned Midsummer he probably didn’t envisage quite so much twerking). However, true to their genre, the Lovers are fabulous acrobats: tumbling and leaping, performing complex stands on each other that will take your breath away, and they manage to convey the majority of the dialogue through their circus pieces with more beauty and depth than words could muster.

A Shakespeare play without words is a very tricky thing. There is a small element of narration and “ATHENS”/”FOREST” signs to orient the audience, but scarce else. If you are not familiar with the text it is possible to find yourself slightly off the garden path, and heading out in to the woods. This is particularly true of the performances of the Mechanicals – alternating between very limber builders and Athenian pole dancers.

Strangely, the street slang and booty popping Oberon and Titania do make a raucous pair and give the performance a completely different slant. Domme and daddy (and female) Oberon leads Puck on leash, bound and ball-gagged while taunting the fairy Queen Titania – a queen in more ways than one.  Their dynamic is such a departure to the traditional that it’s frankly jarring and stings of high-school pantomime. After the performers settle in to their repartee and flash their own circus credentials, they begin to look a little less like bickering teens.

Truly though, all the camp acting and bad jokes aside, the most captivating element about this show is the transformative power of their aerial circus skills. Looking up, it’s an isolated, introspective space where each character is allowed a moment, a seemingly eternal moment, to act out their desires, emotions and their element of the storyline. Each turn, and swing and leap takes paints an emotive picture in the spotlight against the tent ceiling. Without giving too much away  – it will leave you with a radically different perspective of this traditional narrative.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream will be showing at The Big Top theatre until February 15. Tickets are available here.

By Bad Egg Boys

Jimmy’s

 11^th of February 2015

Jimmy’s is quiet with anticipation, people clutching their purses tight in fear of crims, the low-lit dive-bar aesthetic not helping one bit, as they chug down cold beers and try to catch the breeze from the lone fan in attempt to keep cool in the stuffy room. Cue: blaring hip hop.

Right off the bat the Boys are loud and brash – leaping in to the audience, with a boom box and drawn-on guns, tying up the guest host (Luke Ryan) in an act of ‘hostage’ taking.  These two girls with boys names, “Simmo and Johnno”, are bad, really bad and they’ve got a point to make to Jimmy (of Jimmy’s den) and they’re going to hold the audience hostage to make it.

The troubled pair swing from extremes – telling us their compelling life stories and then taking our wallets (to be returned later), all with an ‘angry young women’ style of material – they’re criminals remember. Their ferocious and fierce style of joke telling, coupled with charming sincerity gives depth to their performance and makes Stockholm syndrome seem like a real possibility.

While their banter seems to have no direction, no major overarching narrative, and at times is pretty far out it makes some interesting critiques: how men view women for example – ‘I just wanna listen to her all night long’, and it also has a wide range of little cultural easter ‘eggs’ littered throughout ranging from texts like Waiting for Godot, to the Crazy Frog.

Really, the true excellence of this show comes from the commitment of Simmo and Johnno, whether it’s singing Sweeny Todd songs, throwing fake bullets in to the crowd or lying dead on the floor for a whole Taylor Swift song – the Boys are fabulous comediennes and follow through and hit every mark. Their style is reminiscent of early Will Ferrel sketches from Saturday Night Live – light hearted but deadly serious. Look in to their eyes and you won’t doubt their commitment, or how deadly those hand-drawn guns could be.

Catch the Bad Egg Boys before the Police do (February 14)! More information here.

[5 stars]

You know how you have those really funny friends who always know exactly the right thing to say? Emily Tresidder is definitely one of them. She appears at the Hellenic Club in her first stand up comedy gig, which discusses her past, present and gung-ho attitude to life – “live every moment like you’re writing your autobiography”. Great life advice and perfect for the ‘YOLO’ generation.

Much of Tresidder’s comedy is classic observation – from the difference in walking tempo between the speedy Sydneysiders of her home town, to us plodders in Perth, to her continued love and imagined eventual breakup with her barista. While on-point and chocked with enough Internet references to keep Gen-Y looking away from their smartphones for her entire set, her jokes and one-liners did seem to fall flat with the crowd, never really getting a laugh that rose above a nervous titter from the audience.

Her set was let down by the occasional overly long pause, or fumbled punch line, but it was a credit to see her coolly recover and continue on. The show’s set design also leaves something to be desired – I’m not really sure what the Eiffel Tower screens, lamp post and crushed velvet curtains held up with gaffer tape were in aid of, as they really didn’t add to the performance or the help with the amateur feel of the school-hall like Hellenic Club.

Despite this, the show definitely didn’t fall flat. They may not have been slapping their sides with laughter, but the audiences’ attention never wandered. Like a budding professional, Tresidder kept them following through her slightly short set, with much pointing, polling and the occasional ferocious accusation hurled at the crowd with exuberant hand gestures. She really understands that the way to an audience’s heart is through their troubled exes and shared autobiographical themes.

Effortless flow, belly laughs and a bigger budget all come to all professional comedians with time, and much practise. Tresidder already is well on her way – with incredible confidence, ferocity and a wicked sense of humour. She definitely will find her feet if her performances continue to be as promising.

If you want to check out Tresidder so you can say you saw her before she was famous, she’s performing until the 8^th of February.  For more tickets and details, see the Fringe World guide here.

Finally, yes, a show to point all mid-20 year olds in the direction we truly need: adulthood. And in only 45 minutes. Put down your self-help guides and Buzzfeed ‘listicles’, Sophie Joske is here to lead us through the mystifying world of becoming a true adult.

With a maniacal grin and impeccably grown-up attire, Joske takes us through each facet of proper adult behaviour – the workplace, social skills, dating – with flashbacks, flashcards and audience participation worthy of a positivity infomercial, possibly designed for recent Arts degree recipients.

Minimal staging, obviously budget props, and canned laugher give this show a home-grown, first time feel but there’s nothing inexperienced about Joske’s performance.  Well-paced jokes and punchy dialogue are delivered in an almost deliriously faux-nervous manner; a constant sense of anxiety and hysteria makes her performance more realistic and impossible not to laugh at.

In fact, most of the audience left their terribly adult glasses of wine untouched as they giggled and sniggered like children as Joske failed assessment after assessment by an omniscient and rather obtuse mechanical voice from the Mature Learning Academy. Growing increasingly more frantic and increasingly less clad (even her “innate attractiveness” was not left unexamined), the show culminated in Joske breaking down and chanting “I’m a big girl now” during the show’s one serious moment.

While it is a somewhat flippant piece about how to ‘be more functional’, the show is also woven with clever critique of mainstream modern adulthood, the apparent shallowness that passes for ‘acceptable’ as an adult, and how we’re all really stumbling about, not really getting there.

If you’re looking for more life lessons from Joske, you’ll have to catch her next time she’s around, or at various live comedy spots around Perth as all of her shows have already sold out. Rightly so; we’re all looking for a bit of guidance and Joske really delivers.

Become a Functional Adult in 45 Minutes runs until the of 7th February at The Blue Room. It’s unfortunately sold out, but you can still check it out in the Festival Guide here.