Review by Steve Bennett at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival

We see a different Michael Workman at the festival this year. He didn’t want to do another ‘heartfelt parable about the human condition’, he says, so chucks out the tender storytelling in favour of a more traditional stand-up relationship with his audience.

Why? Because like many a comedian in the ‘bohemian bubble’ he got a wake-up call that not everyone was a left-leaning progressive who liked their thoughts provoked as they laugh. The revelation came not from the seismic political shifts that have rocked the Western world, but because he did a gig on a cruise ship that sank harder than the Titanic. His set that is, not the boat.

Well, that and the realisation he might have to break out of the comedy festival ghetto if he was to starts earning some serious money. They don’t accept integrity at Coles.

Thus the scene is set for some weary truths from a jaded comedian, which combines sullen introspection with well-aimed swipes at this artform, business… whatever it is, from both sides of the populist spectrum.

On his side, he tackles the easy path of artsy comedians reinforcing the liberal sensibilities of their similarly metropolitan, educated audiences as virtue-signalling writ large – all with lots of ironic metaphor and skilful and smart turns of phrase.

Some of this is deceit, though, and he exposes the trickery used by himself and others, taking the ‘pull-back-and-reveal’ and pulling back to reveal the simplicity of the gag.  After saying something that sounds clever he’ll add a self-effacing line exposing the superficiality of knowledge it was based on. 

Such footnotes keep pulling us out of his train of thought, which is what he wants because he doesn’t want his audience suckered by the charisma and oratorical technique that have made comedy so conventional. Although it is to the detriment of his momentum now he can’t use those devices.

On the other hand, he both despises and envies the ‘Wog comedians’ who can get a laugh with their lazy ethnic stereotypes. Could he make the ultimate gesture of breaking out of his bubble and write a right-wing racist rant that would get laughs? He has a go.

It doesn’t take a genius to spot the heavy irony in his jealousy. A true populist would never do such meta nonsense as pull apart the foundations of their craft. The codgers on the cruise ship don’t want to hear that.

So by being so self-analytical, Workman has ended up back in the ghetto talking to his people – even if he’s injecting just enough ambiguity to plant a few seeds of doubt in his audience’s, and his own, mind about the much-vaunted social value of stand-up.

In fact, what he’s ended up with a heartfelt parable about the comedian’s condition. Even if he doesn’t really know what the message of that parable is.

Review date: 15 Apr 2017
Reviewed by: