Sammy J: Good Hustle
Good Hustle offers a farewell to some of the characters who have emerged from the bite-sized topical sketches Sammy J has been serving up to ABC viewers for the past five years.
Based on such relatively mainstream sensibilities, the show is gently teasing rather than offering any savage political bite – even if the comedian claims some of his work got the broadcaster’s lawyers vexed. However, he surely wouldn’t have got a surprise video guest of the calibre he secures for Good Hustle, were the comedy too brutal.
This is an entertaining compilation, performed with all the multi-talented comic’s usual slickness and showmanship, aided by co-writer James Pender – lawyer by day, bloke who dresses as a potato for cheap laughs by night. However, the inevitable bittiness of a sketch format means it’s never fully satisfying.
Sammy J – so spindly and flexible that you’d think he was made out of pipe cleaners – kicks off with his yoga teacher alter-ego offering exercises for the baby boomers, secure in their homeownership. It may be the first time he wryly highlights generational inequalities, but it’s not the last.
His Government Coach is a recurring character, familiar for applying sports analysis to government policies. Now ScoMo’s out of power, he’s reduced to addressing the ‘future leaders’ within the waste management department of Albury-Wodonga council, until he gets a big call-up. Coach is not the most interesting of alter-egos but does provide a through-line for the hour, and its title summarising the Aussie spirit.
A wise old bushman reflecting on Australia Day offers a playful and intelligent exposé of the ignorance behind the controversial choice of date, while The Very Hungry Barnaby – one of the standout skits from his Playground Politics strand on TV – is brought to silly life, by zipping Pender into one of many ridiculous costumes he dons over the hour.
A highlight was ‘Hookturnistan’ – a satirical take on Dan Andrews becoming a tinpot dictator when imposing lockdown restrictions in Victoria. But the way Melburnians lapped up the lively, flag-waving skit, it seems an authoritarian regime is a price they’ll be willing to pay if it means they can continue to be smug about their superior lattes.
Tackling the Labor premier shows Sammy J is even-handed in his criticism, and he also took aim at the cancel culture of the unforgiving Left pouncing on the most minor infraction in one witty song.
It’s no surprise that the musical numbers were the most successful, given the star’s background in the genre, and the nostalgic toe-tapper You’ll Never Know What It’s Like was a real high, as well as being one of the evening’s least satirical moments. That may be more telling than coincidence.
Review date: 14 Apr 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at:
Melbourne International Comedy Festival