Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

An admirable ambition underpins Oliver Coleman’s work, this time putting the focus on the artifice of performance, envisaging a dystopian future of AI art on a burning planet and, even grimmer, talking about real estate agents.

The comedian sets out with a full-throttle, elaborately written rant about how evil those involved in the rental business are, delivered with a spiralling intensity fuelled by his burning anger.

And yet there’s a performative air to this diatribe that’s just a bit too elegant. That delivery and the clearly scripted nature makes it feel slightly insincere, even though there’s no doubt it has spawned from bitter first-hand experience. 

Without directly addressing that, the nature  of what he’s doing on stage is a recurring theme. He’s dramatically trained and that makes him a bold performer, exemplified by an intense burst of squawking and angular physicality, odd and funny in equal measure.

He also recalls the advice of one tutor: ‘If what you’re doing is boring, keep doing it until it becomes interesting.’ Which can be hard to put into practice, especially on those having to witness it. 

Since he’s examining the relationship between performer and audience, crowd work is inevitable – and deliberately made uncomfortable (if only a little) by Colman’s unsettling energy. That he kills the lights and shines a probing torch into the faces of those he is interrogating makes the dynamic all the edgier.

Even when the spotlight is back on the comedian, the potent nervous energy that goes into his agitated delivery never lets anyone relax.

But why should we relax when facing an unmitigated climate collapse without even art to distract us, once the soulless robots take over? Coleman sometimes seems overwhelmed by the bleak truth – driving home the message to the point that it doesn’t feel like a joke any more. Though he will then take another turn to offer us a grain of comic relief.

His frustrations are not entirely external, either, as he’s willing to turn his over-analytical eye onto his own behaviour, frankly admitting that he can’t be doing with the inconvenience of having to live by his own ethics. One minute, he takes the moral high ground for being a vegetarian dating an omnivore – then expertly undermines himself for not being vegan.

It’s one of the many parts of this wide-ranging show that sparkle, and even if others don’t land quite so squarely, every point is thought-provoking on this wild intellectual ride. I’d like to see AI come up with something as tenth as enterprising as this.

Review date: 15 Apr 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival