Oliver Coleman: Goof
Oliver Coleman may be a goof, but he’s also a super-smart one, creating an impressive show that’s both light and dense, daft and thoughtful.
His collection of one-man sketches and witty philosophies are also delivered in what seems a contradictory way, a taut, precise and authoritative performance that still allows for silliness. If he’s going to go off-the-wall with, say, a falconry mime, you’d better believe it’s a goddam tight one.
He describes himself as ‘a recovering poet’, and there’s undoubtedly an elegance and eloquence to his writing, with an ability to make even the horrific sound delightful and the delightful sublime. The delivery’s so on point, even the way he rolls the word ‘papaya’ around his mouth is almost musical. Nor is Goof just a verbal pleasure, with physical comedy also high in the mix.
Without being so gauche as to draw attention to his theme, Coleman’s hour is a reflection on the nature of creativity and entertainment. Should it be mad, disorderly genius, or taking something more mediocre, practised until it is technically perfect? It’s an apt question for a comic who straddles the line, both inspired and slick, and is obliquely addressed via the metaphor of ice cream. Do you plump for the safe cup or the sloppy cone?
Coleman’s muses on mediocrity focus on one specific piece of art at the National Gallery of Victoria, a delightfully petty target. That’s typical of a wide-ranging set whose topics wander from meditating in public to a menu’s pretentious description of plain rice; from spotting nuns ‘in the wild’ to reflections on our parasocial relationships with social media influences. And it all culminates in a crisis of identity at the cutlery draw.
Goof is often a meta show with Coleman pointing out precisely what he’s doing, and even when apparently sincere on some trivial subject, he’ll give a sly sideways glance that acknowledges the stupidity.
With sweeping scope, Coleman’s hilarious observations, eccentric sketches and appealing performance combine in a rich comic feast.
Review date: 14 Apr 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at:
Melbourne International Comedy Festival