Melbourne International Comedy Festival review by Steve Bennett

At the Adelaide Fringe last month, Josh Ladgrove dressed as Jesus and allowed people to shout insults at him. On Good Friday, some people will dress as Jesus and allow people to mock-crucify them.

According to the religious right who angrily and loudly unleashed all their righteous indignity at Come Heckle Christ at the earlier festival, the first is a blasphemous outrage to public decency. The second, of course, is an act of sincere religious devotion.

It could equally – possibly more logically – be argued that the first is also a modern representation of the brickbats the Messiah would have endured during his time on the 1st Century Galileean preaching circuit. But since when has logic come into such protests?

Either way, the brouhaha inevitably gave Ladgrove the sort of publicity 30 pieces of silver can’t buy, and the first of two performances at Melbourne was a packed-to-the-rafters sell-out, bristling with expectation.

The premise is an intriguing and clever one. Ladgrove, who certainly looks the part on his crucifix, is a largely passive Messiah, simply encouraging the audience to heckle to drive proceedings. How would they react? With vicious mockery or playful teasing? Reverence was probably never on the cards.

Some disciples came along with some great lines. ‘Who does your nails?’ was an early favourite from the darkness. And the equally Christ-like comedian Dave Callan filled more than a couple of the many lulls with a well-judged interjection. ‘Good comedy show, Jesus,’ he sarcastically drawled. ‘Shame your sides are the only ones that have split.’

The show depends entirely on the audience, and sharp heckles gradually gave way to questions from those seeking enlightenment about the world. Or, more precisely, about Twilight, Harry Potter or countless other dated pop-culture touchstones, as the initial buzz of excitement diffused to the mundane. It’s something of an indictment that faced with the representation of a great philosopher and revolutionary of whom they can ask anything, a supposedly intelligent festival crowd goes so lowbrow – and stays there.

Ludgrove – who also performs as Dr Professor Neal Portenza – largely let the insults and comments fly with only minimal comeback, replying to many with just an inscrutable, beatific smile or elliptical, rhetorical repetition of the question. Despite what some of the preachers of Adelaide might think, this Jesus largely turns the other cheek, and sometimes defends himself... although Ludgrove sometimes broke character too, if he thought of a more pointed putdown than would fit the Saviour’s character.

It’s certainly a bold an interesting experiment, even if it doesn’t quite sustain a full hour – at least not tonight. Nonetheless, by the end, the audience has bonded over the shared experience, happy to have generated their own fun. Is that so sinful?

Review date: 8 Apr 2014
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett