Melbourne comedy festival review by Steve Bennett

Taking audience participation in a new and more immersive direction, Butt Kapinski aims to create a fully-fledged film noir on the fly, each member of the crowd being called into service to depict the fetid lowlifes that inhabit a sordid detective story.

If that idea fills you with dread, the fact that the man in the trenchcoat is actually Deanna Fleysher, director of comedy’s most intense psychological provocateur, Red Bastard, will do nothing to reassure you.

Fear not, however, for this is a genuinely supportive collaboration between improv-minded performer and sometimes timid audience, with Fleysher creating an atmosphere where no suggestion is a bad one, any contributed witticism is celebrated, and those who become dumbstruck in the spotlight are forgiven.

Ah, the spotlight. In unique, inspired staging, the whole story is illuminated by a lamp, strapped to Kapinski’s back and suspended over her head. So as the hardbitten gumshoe weaves through the scattered audience, its glare is directed at those being called on to perform. 

As the seedy detective scuttles around society’s underbelly, we become raunchy prostitutes, corrupt businessmen, abusive wife-beaters and puss-riddled bag ladies – with mixed comic outcome, but no one ever judges, knowing their turn is yet to come. 

Interestingly, all the men play women and vice-versa, offering, as a side attraction, an unusual perspective on the sex-and-violence tropes of this cinematic genre. Best performance of the night, however, goes to the woman who volunteered to provide the soundtrack, the perfect freeform jazz to travel montages, shocking scenes, and steamy seductions.

For all the high concept, jokes come from simpler places. First from the fun of playing along, second from Kapinski’s silly voice, a contorted lisp of such confused consonants that often needs to be decoded. Basically, if you enjoyed Michael Palin saying ‘Welease Woger’ you’ll love this accent.

What’s missing from all inventive production and playful participation, however, is a decent story. Fleysher admits as much at the end, but it doesn’t totally get her off the hook. In tonight’s show what narrative there was took a strange left turn in any case, when one audience member decided, spontaneously,  to confess, requiring that to be incorporated into the thin narrative. But if Fletcher could hook her innovation and crowd-wrangling skills to a plot worthy of the genre she’s parodying, she’d really be on to something.

Review date: 14 Apr 2016
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival