Melbourne International Comedy Festival review by Steve Bennett

There’s not a wasted beat in this pacy, joyous romp through DeAnne Smith’s glorious insecurities. Many a comedian could learn from her efficiency of exposition, with laughs crammed tight together but never at the expense of telling a story or setting a scene.

Acknowledging herself as a ‘neurotic elf’, she’s the sort of person who can have an argument with a photo frame, or be plunged into an existentialist dilemma over a latte order. Yet every dysfunction in her real life, of which there appear to be many, is grist for her acutely self-aware stand-up. Comedy rewards her bad behaviour with laughs, she notes, which has to be screwed up when it comes to seeking a contented life.

‘I don’t know how to talk to people,’ she says a couple of times, though in this peculiar situation of performer and audience she has it nailed. Her awareness is not all internal, she also has a Matrix-like ability to read the room on a level the rest of us cannot see – instinctively knowing where to steer the gig, when to interact with the audience and when to pull back.

Even if she does point out what she’s doing, playing with the crowd in this way creates an engaging, fluid dynamic and a way of making the gig seem special and freewheeling. But that has to be an illusion; a show this tight doesn’t get improvised.

The gags are various combinations of smart, playful, insightful and sometimes a little mean, concealed behind her geeky self-deprecation. And anyone who coins the word ‘unshazamable’, as she does, is clearly an inventive writer.

Her personable nature is enhanced by a nervous energy that sets her swinging back and forth across the stage, occasionally striking a corny, exaggerated physical pose that she can subsequently be ashamed of herself for attempting.

Smith’s off-stage social awkwardness extends to her love live and although she tells us that she’s in a fledgling relationship that seems to be going well, she has plenty of back history of less successful dating – not to mention going to strip clubs and Amsterdam sex shows – to exploit. She was also married once, and her peculiar matrimonial history in liberal Canada informs a distinctive take on gay marriage.

While her pixie haircut, bow tie and job in the arts might set her up as the epitome of hipster chic, she actually has a devastating takedown of that ultra-cliquey culture… if, indeed, irony counts as a ‘culture’.

And speaking of hipsters, she’s dropped the ukulele with which she was once so closely associated. It seems a smart move now every whimsical drama student has one – and since Get Into It is stand-up at its finest, no gimmicks are needed.

Review date: 11 Apr 2015
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival