★★★★1/2
Adelaide Fringe. Holden Street Theatres. 15 Feb 2020
You can’t keep a good man down. Another Fringe means another Goers’ show - this one being the fifth show in his trilogy.
Where does he get the material?
Easy. The older one gets, the more stuff one knows. Goers, now running for a world record of 48th birthdays, has a prodigious memory and a wealth of experience.
And. Big “and”! He knows his audience. He’s tapping into the seniors demographic, the most populous demographic in the country and the least well served by the Fringe.
Once again he has delved into his life stories, his raconteur’s repertoire of classic showbiz stories, his grab bag of work-related anecdotes and a seemingly bottomless reserve of gorgeous Adelaide nostalgia.
Oh, and for very good measure, he tops up the entertainment with a song from his talented mate Robin “Smacka” Schmeltzkopf and a glittering guest appearance (or two) by Adelaide’s TV royalty, Anne “Willsy” Wills.
So, the whole show is a bit of a love-in, with the audience nodding, sighing, giggling, and nodding some more.
Goers balances his funny stories and satire with a bit of piquance and a few topical jibes, then makes everyone go misty-eyed by stepping into the character of the beloved Barry Humphries character, Sandy Stone.
And, yep, in his ice-cream suit and shimmering sneakers, the nearly-old radio legend has done it again.
Samela Harris
DISCLAIMER: This writer works with Goers as resident critic on ABC 891’s Smart Arts program on Sunday mornings. So, to compensate for her admitted bias, she has knocked half a star off the star-rating.
When: 15 Feb to 15 Mar
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. The Flamingo, Gluttony. 15 Feb 2020
He describes himself as a magician but should be properly considered an illusionist. All that Matt Tarrant packs into an hour – a lot – is predicated on mind tricks and random links; a series of numbers supplied from random audience members, the numbers becoming a sequence on a lottery ticket; a bear supplied by a mind-reading boy and his sister; and finally, a very slick expose of number sequences set to music and revealed through manipulation of a couple of packs of cards.
But first, a note of caution. This opening Saturday night crowd was faced with overcrowding, poor handling and a show which started 20 minutes late. For those with other shows to attend, this is unforgivable.
If you’ve seen Tarrant before you know what to expect, for the show has evolved only a little from earlier editions. It may be ‘Evolve’ in name but that refers to the final reveal, not to the tone of the show. Tarrant is smooth and capable, the patter linking his performance to the audience members, from whom he draws often. The use of technology; big screens and hand-held video camera, close-miking and music beds all suggest there is a great deal more than meets the eye going on behind the scenes. Even so, the final reveal, a VHS tape of a baby Tarrant in the family home is great and genuinely has the audience wondering ‘How does he do that?’.
This is what Tarrant wants his audience - a packed house of over 500 for the hometown boy – to take away from the show, and he succeeds in spades. Curiously, the atmosphere was less than electric and somewhat more ‘that’s interesting’. A certain lack of energy was noted, but that is not to detract from the quality of the show.
Alex Wheaton
When: 15 Feb to 15 March
Where: The Flamingo, Gluttony Rymill Park
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Le Cascadeur, Garden Of Unearthly Delights. 14 Feb 2020
Sean Choolburra acts as MC for this fairly high-paced show, tonight before a very appreciative audience, but all four are onstage to greet us as we take our seats. Choolburra works a didgeridoo piece into the act and warms up the crowd before introducing Kev Kropinyeri.
Kropinyeri’s humour is direct; ‘bald and handsome’ he opines, and is pitched at the audience. He looks firstly at the degree of blackness required for true aboriginality, concluding there are none so black as a blue-black reservation Aborigine.
Choolburra bounds back onstage and delivers his best, a pastiche of five decades of dance, breaking the comedic thread before he introduces the next performer.
Steph Tisdel uses a self-deprecating routine, getting in her gags about body type and colour before they can be used against her it seems: ‘You may not know much about bra sizes but I’m a double J. That’s a fuckin’ long way down the alphabet.’ It’s a funny and clever routine which does a lot to temper her anger in discussing race relations. Considering a possible child with her redheaded English partner, she gets the best line of the night in thinking of a new term for their offspring. ‘Boomeranga I reckon, ‘cause when he grows up and leaves home he’ll keep coming back!’
Andy Saunders is a completely different sort of comedian. Subtle and sly, and crafty. In tackling the casual racism of colour he mentions he might be mistaken for an Indian, an idea he successfully revisits: ‘If the cops come in looking for a 6’3 Aboriginal then I can be Indian in a second, brother’. Saunders has apparently been on ‘The Block’ on TV, but when he reveals his other skills the fact that one didn’t know that becomes irrelevant. Saunders is both a mimic and vocaliser and beat-boxer of real calibre. His microphone technique is outstanding, his song to his daughter a real highlight.
Perhaps not so much Allstars as a mixed bag, but nonetheless thoroughly enjoyable.
Alex Wheaton
When: 14 Feb to 1 March
Where: Le Cascadeur, Garden Of Unearthly Delights
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Tim Ferguson. The Box, Garden of Unearthly Delights. 14 Feb 2020
The title of Tim Ferguson’s solo show hangs heavy with the air of ironic fatalism which has pervaded the comedian's working life since the encroachment of dreaded multiple sclerosis. He has not let its pain or physical impediment impede a defiantly ongoing career in film, television, writing and sit-down comedy.
So here he is again in his wheelchair on a primitive Fringey high-box stage in a massive black box in the Garden with a simple and direct multi-media presentation.
Of course, it is a bit trendy these days to be a disabled comic, to clown around with cruel fate.
But Tim Ferguson is not like the others. Not a bit. While he cannot do stand-up, he can stand alone in the field.
It is about content, intellect, and terms of reference. His humour does not capitalise on disability or mock it; it extrapolates intelligently about and from it.
Ferguson is a Fringe veteran. He erupted onto the Adelaide Fringe program and right into controversy as one of the Doug Anthony Allstars, back in the anarchic heydays of the 80s. With Richard Fidler and Paul McDermott, he was not only into jelly-wrestling and darkly mischievous humour but also into baiting journalists. To that end, this critic was to become a special Adelaide target. It was all in edgy good spirit.
The DAAS Fringe years rolled into TV years and divergent careers. All these things Ferguson relates in his hour of power in The Garden: the evolving relationships of the trio and his gradual voyage into disability.
Ferguson explains MS and illustrates its diagnostic characteristics with slides.
In the face of darkness, he is droll and wise.
But his show is not narrow. Ferguson is a substantial Australian talent and he knows his craft. Hence is the show eloquently balanced between dark and light, absurdity and perspicacity, life stories and quick gags. It rolls along easily and amicably, tech flaws irrelevant. He interacts with the audience’s interruptions fondly and respectfully and gives one and all a bit of a lesson in comedy writing. Yes, you, too, can do it promises this man for whom the teaching of comedy writing has become another ongoing career path.
Indeed. Tim Ferguson is a very interesting man of considerable depth and substance. His show is enlightening, enriching, and entertaining, Out of the negative of pain and dependency comes the positive of humour and acceptance. No wonder Tim Ferguson is so beloved in this country. Five stars.
Samela Harris
When: 14 to 23 Feb
Where: The Box, Garden of Unearthly Delights
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★1/2
Adelaide Fringe. Millicent Sarre. The Bally, Gluttony. 14 Feb 2020
Such a gentle feminist is Millicent Sarre. She invites you in, sits you down and apologises in advance for any offence caused. She is going to have a bit of a chat about feminism and life in general, and with her band of musical cohorts, sing a song or two to illustrate the point.
Just to settle us in, the butter-wouldn't-melt blonde presents her opening song Khaki which gives us a list of feminist stereotypes, so we understand the kind of hairy legged, ball busting, man hating dykes we're talking about here.
Very quickly the show develops to the point where Sarre has to acknowledge that she is not mild mannered at all, but is bloody angry. The feisty rap of The ABC Of Feminism showcases that anger, and makes clear that there is an intelligent, articulate and political rage being expressed here.
Audience singalongs (Don't Make Them Drink The Tea) serve to deliver messages of "consent" in a most palatable manner, only to soften you up so that she can rip off your skin with her shockingly personal ‘Me Too’!
There's a hard core to this mild mannered feminist and this is where she really shines, exhibiting a biting wit tempered with compassion and reason. There is always a fine line between delivering the message and keeping your audience entertained. Sarre is mostly successful in straddling that line and only occasionally veers dangerously towards didacticism and polemic.
Some tight direction could improve the flow of the show, but Sarre's original songs and skilled piano playing keep it moving along at a great pace.
This is not a political treatise; is it political entertainment? The personal is political, and politics can be bloody entertaining, so here we are.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 14 Feb to 1 Mar
Where: The Bally, Gluttony
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au