David Quirk: Thrasher
Note: This review is from 2015
In the stand-up equivalent of Kevin Smith’s cult movie Clerks, David Quirk takes us to the skateboarding shop where he’s worked for 14 years to recount tales of odd customers, his on-the-job laziness and time-killing distractions.
And when I say ‘takes us to…’ that’s not metaphorical; for Thrasher takes place in his actual workplace, Fast Times, converted by a beer pump on the counter and hired-in seating to a makeshift venue, a wall of skate decks his new backdrop.
Making some, but not exhaustive, use of the setting, he gives us a quick tour of corners where he was caught mucking about; goofs around with the cardboard insets that ensure the hats keep their shapes; and applies grip to a skateboard as he shoots the breeze with a colleague – a woman who’s quick to pipe up when he makes untrue claims about his time at work.
He shares his love of the sport, undeterred by his first childhood wipeout and an injury that’s given him a minor deformity; as well as bittersweet memories of his late mother, whose terminal illness was the subject of a previous show, and how he almost left the store as his comedy career took off. But he’s still there, thanks to the financial realities of the Australian comedy scene that offers poor rewards to jobbing comics who don’t take – or aren’t offered – the radio-station dollar.
Quirk offers an thoughtful, entertaining ride through his own life, and while none of the stories catch fully alight, the show is artfully put together, with engaging yarns mixed in with more theatrical elements, thanks to the engagements with his takes-no-shit ‘co-worker’ – in actual fact fellow comic Zoe Coombs-Marr – and an over-the-top set piece with a mannequin.
At one point he astutely observes that ‘an artist’s reach much exceed his grasp’. However Thrasher isn’t Quirk pushing himself to great extremes, but consolidating his reputation as an assured storytelling comic.
Review date: 14 Apr 2015
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at:
Melbourne International Comedy Festival