Review – Oliver Tank
Oliver Tank plays smooth music. It’s reflective, romantic, aspiring – it exists on that other plane where emotions are intricate and overwhelming, to be wondered at and mourned for their evanescent beauty.
Oliver Tank plays smooth music. It’s reflective, romantic, aspiring – it exists on that other plane where emotions are intricate and overwhelming, to be wondered at and mourned for their evanescent beauty.
The Garden of Unearthly Delights’ successful explosion over the years into a weekend bogan haven ensures the continuation of late-night strip-shows and lazy, boozy stand-up that may make any fan of ‘the arts’ dread to ever enter.
Fitzhigham explodes on to the stage with the manic energy we’ve come to expect from British comedy.
Physical comedy is a bit of a poisoned chalice. Audiences have largely come to accept that jugglers are for children and adults are only meant to enjoy bitter, observational stand-up.
“Mud Mud Glorious Mud” and “Gnu” were freakin’ top of the pops between sixty and seventy years ago but they hold up well over time as completely ridiculous songs.
Abandoman is an entirely improvised show, powered by the audience, their stories and the objects in their pockets and handbags.
Comedy shows have framing devices. It’s a fact of life: you need something to bookend your show, a big revelatory note on which you can end the night, to show you’re a human being and not just a joke machine.
Every wondered about what it is to be a male, a metrosexual male, in a women’s world? Well that’s what Dave Thornton questioned and explored with his audience, on one hot Adelaide night.
SORT of like a Chaplian-esque silent movie on stage, Kaput is a rollicking hour of slapstick brilliance
complete with ladders, buckets and plank gags.
Picture this: you’re at the local on a Sunday night and the old guy who’s been propped up against the bar since Thursday is regaling you with tall tales of love, boyhood, and his travels to “all five corners of the world”.
The show put on by The Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppets is certainly nothing ground-breaking, nor is it a high tech production, but it is worth the ticket price nonetheless.
Tina C. is the alter-ego of British comedian Christopher Green and is like a cross between Tina Turner
and a Southern Baptist Preacher.
How many times in a gig do you think you’d need to be reminded that the man in the hot pink kilt parading in front of you is gay? Hill himself seemed to think that constantly reminding his audience of it was the best possible use of his time on stage.
The Brothers Pitt is advertised as family friendly – truer words could not be said of it. A light-hearted and amusing family circus based act, the show is largely aimed at children, but hits home for the parents too, with the occasional “wink-wink nudge-nudge” moment that will (hopefully) go over the heads of the little ones.
Morgan and West are time travellers. But they’re not just your ordinary run-of-the-mill temporal passengers, no ma’am, they are also spiffing magicians.
What the masses said