Melbourne comedy festival review by Steve Bennett

If there’s one good thing to come from 30 years of heroin abuse - big ‘if’, admittedly - it’s that you get a lot of stories. Gruesome, brutal stories, for sure, but stories nonetheless.

Late last year, Melbourne comedy veteran Greg Fleet published some of those in his autobiography These Things Happen, which he has used as the source material for this show of the same name – part stand-up, part ‘spoken word’, part apology, part warning, part self-flagellation.

So we hear of reality proving more surreal than an LSD trip in a Perth park, of his shame in hocking his daughter’s iPad to fund his ‘hobby’, of gangland deaths in a Melbourne comedy club (not addiction-related, that one) and of a grim hit, scored on the streets of South London from a man literally paralysed by addiction.

To call much of this comedy would clearly be a stretch, though Fleety has the instinct to spot absurdity in the bleakness as well as the skill to release the not-inconsiderable tension with a wry aside. In short, a compelling storyteller.

This is certainly not the first time he’s spoken of his drug abuse on stage. Hell, it’s not even the first time he’s done shows in which he’s vowed he’s finally clean this time. But he admits that lying is almost as hard a habit to kick as the heroin, finding himself spouting untruths for no discernible reason. Strange to reconcile that with the apparent honesty with which he discusses his self-inflicted situation, as well as other tales, such as those about his philandering father

As a show, though, director Roz Hammond’s hand feels heavy. Several times does the comedian explain he’s doing something on her insistence; and the device of answering questions tweeted in by his followers feels needless and contrived. He’s not a Talk Radio host desperate to prove how connected he is to the modern world, and in any case any structure underpinning the stories should be much less visible than this.

His lie about quitting last time unwound very publicly when he wound up in court, having stolen his flatmate’s jewellery to fund his ‘hobby’, and his misdeeds were splashed across every newspaper in Australia. The explicit aim of the show is seek redemption from his past actions, and to celebrate his belated realisation that life can be good sober with his partner - that very same Roz Hammond.

That message might be a little obvious… but the compelling stories that lead up to it should have you beating a path to your nearest bookshop to buy Fleet’s book.

Review date: 1 Apr 2016
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett