By Jessica Taurins
jks: a comedy(?) has a familiar nostalgia about it. It’s like a Twitter argument where I can’t block any of the participants, but I also just can’t stop reading the thread. It’s also like the experience of being trapped in the corner at a party by someone (a man) who feels very strongly about women’s rights to vote, while all my cool, normal friends are hanging out by the fire pit.
It is also a wonderfully, tightly written commentary on comedy today vs. comedy yesterday, told by the talented Tom Ballard through his little collection of standup comedy stereotypes.
Ballard – in the dual role of playwright and performer – has written the perfect character for himself. He plays an amped up version of himself, certainly, but his presentation of his character, described as a “gay from the ABC”, is cast quite well, if I may say so myself.
Joining him are the old guard of comedy: Nicky Barry as a seasoned vet, a woman whose default jokes are, of course, about how much she hates her family, and Kevin Hofbauer as a guy who almost certainly spends all of his spare time listening to Alex Jones and inventing new slurs.
Then we meet the younger crew: Jordan Barr as a long-suffering comedian who bombs her act at the comedy gala they’re all attending, and Tiana Hogben as a non-binary clown still working on the finishing touches to her act.
Thus the stage is set. Five comedians are gathered together backstage in a dingy pub, cracking jokes, having a laugh, and debating the morals and values of very-recently-deceased comedian ‘Dirty Dusty’.
The primary conflict of the show revolves around this fictional Dusty, the preferred comic of Hofbauer’s character, though well-known to them all. Dusty died of old age so he was, of course, astoundingly sexist, racist, homophobic, and so on, sparking a debate between the comedians around the shifting landscape of comedy.
The performers fulfil their archetypes incredibly well, although the stars are effectively Ballard and Hofbauer, with a chorus of voices (all of the female and non-binary voices…) either supporting or decrying their opinions. Of the three supporting cast, Hogben is the absolute standout. Barry and Barr are wonderful in their respective roles, but Barr’s depressed, detached character is underutilised and she’s not given much room to stand out. Barry’s role is similarly stereotypical, a mother figure exhausted by life, and she’s often reduced to simply breaking up arguments, although she does tell a hysterical story partway through, hopefully inspired by real life!
Hogben, also in a similarly sized role, brings levity and light to the performance, often cracking through the tension with a well-placed toot on the slide whistle. As an improv performer, Hogben’s comedic timing and ability to throw herself into the silliness of her archetype keeps us on our toes just waiting for her next ridiculous prop or cutesy quip.
Ballard and Hofbauer, as the main duo, do present a wonderful show, cleverly bringing Ballard’s writing to life. Hofbauer should be commended for the relentless punchability of his character, an unlikeable right-leaning performer who misses the days before ‘woke’, when the r-slur was an acceptable thing to say on stage. On the other hand, Ballard is somewhat-less-but-also-a-little-bit punchable, a left-leaning comedian who constantly calls out Hofbauer for making inappropriate comments.
The Ballard vs. Hofbauer title brawl comes to a head during the final moments of the show. Throughout the performance, they’ve needled each other non-stop: Hofbauer claims that people like Ballard take too much from Hannah Gadsby’s show ‘Nanette’, which he believes is no longer comedy and just lecturing his audience. Ballard claims that Hofbauer’s act is too influenced by comedians whose inflammatory and inappropriate jokes should be left in the past.
It’s a debate that’s well underway across our comedic – all media, really – landscape today. Is it acceptable to make bigoted jokes regardless of who is made to feel uncomfortable by said joke? Of course not. But on the other hand, should comedy be so sanitised as to be without difficult topics or ‘dark stuff’? Perhaps not, either. There’s a fine line between comedy designed to hurt and comedy designed to make light of a difficult topic, but where exactly that line sits is something that could be discussed for an endless amount of time.
jks: a comedy(?), on the other hand, wraps up at a perfect point to leave the audience with plenty to debate post-show. On the way downstairs post-performance, I heard plenty of couples chatting about the nuance of the questions the show asks, which is hopefully the outcome Ballard was after when he penned the show in the first place.
