This hardly qualifies as a show at all: barely 30 minutes short, tucked away in one of the festival’s more peripheral venues and attended by just five people; it’s hard to feel fulfilled.

Sheenan is a recent winner of Raw Comedy, the competition for new Australian stand-ups, and doesn’t appear ready for a solo show. The title is apt indeed.

But then seeming ill equipped is all part of his endearing shtick, nervously babbling his way through his options until he stumbles upon something funny. It’s a fragile persona perfectly suited to his pointless shaggy-dog stories, which, although underdeveloped, have a hint of early Woody Allen about them.

He demonstrates some deft comic invention with a couple of set-piece gags, bashing himself on the head with a cardboard box for a neat gag or suffering the indignity of a stage invasion by the cutest wide-eyed four-year-old girl.

Other segments don’t work so well, especially a half-hearted parody of My Way as premier John Howard would have sung it; or a demonstration of interpretive dance nicked straight from John Cleese’s depository of funny walks.

At this early stage in his career, Sheenan is intriguing more than anything. With luck and graft it could develop into something special, but until then, this mixed bag of an act would have been better paired with another fledgling comic to offer a show of more substance.

Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Melbourne, April 2005