Watson: The Life Education Van For Adults!
Note: This review is from 2016
There’s an energetic, playful dynamic between the members of sketch trio Watson that transmits to the audience like an airborne virus.
After last year’s ambitious, site-specific and spooky comedy-horror set in Melbourne Gaol, Tegan Higginbotham, Adam McKenzie and Liam Ryan have, in The Life Education Van for Adults, plumped for a more traditional sketch show format that allows them off the leash a lot more.
The premise is that while touring an instructional theatre show, they break down in the Outback. And as they await rescue, they indulge in some flashbacks about how they got there, and dream sequences imagining life lessons they could share with adults in the future. But you shouldn’t worry too much about the set-up, as they certainly don’t.
What is crucial is the characters of the threesome and the relationships between them. The cornerstone is McKenzie, the big, dumb but enthusiastic idiot character that now seems a given for sketch trios – think Marek Larwood in We Are Klang or Tom Parry in Pappy’s.
He’s got a frisky, childlike innocence, an adorable virgin dork full of joy and wonder but scared of his own furry giraffe (not a euphemism, a puppet). That contrasts with Higginbotham’s more knowing persona – her sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt appearance belying a sometimes filthy sense of humour – and Ryan’s relative straightman role, thought not entirely free of idiocy.
All their performances are enjoyably loose, slipping in ad-libs to trip each other up while occasionally breaking the fourth wall to bring in the audience, without compromising the scripted elements.
The meta-humour tends to be Watson’s strongest suit, giving a distinctive twist to their sketches – the clear highlight of which is Higginbotham trying to quit her Telstra phone contract. And they have the answer for those who make a song and dance about box sets such as Game Of Thrones and Breaking Bad… a song and dance about box sets such as Game Of Thrones and Breaking Bad.
The writing could sometimes be tighter – they can plump for cheesy jokes where they probably shouldn’t – to counterbalance the freestyle elements of the performance. But everything is sold with a knockabout silliness and immaturity that suggests Watson would be woefully ill-equipped to be giving life lessons to anyone. Fortunately, they ARE equipped to put a guaranteed smile on your face.
Review date: 9 Apr 2016
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett