A beautiful Rhys of comedy

Comedy doesn’t have to be racist, sexist, rude or political to get a reaction. It can simply be gentle, observational, harmless fun and can get just as many laughs, be just as hilarious.

I saw a stand up act the other night that I can only describe as beautiful. It’s obviously an unusual word to associate with someone standing on stage telling jokes, but what I witnessed was such a rare experience that it rightly deserves this unusual title.

I was performing my act at a regular monthly comedy night. The night comprised mostly of character comedy and sketches. There was one small, angry Glaswegian lesbian who was…well, she was ok, if a little aggressive. She did deal with a drunken heckler* rather well though. But apart from her, there had been no other stand ups on the bill. I’m not a big fan of the stand up discipline myself. I often find it ‘in your face’, moany, very male dominated and often quite harsh. There are, of course, a few exceptions to this – Stewart Lee and Josie Long are among a handful of acts I would pay to see – but generally speaking I wouldn’t plan my evening around an event at the Comedy Store.

This night was different though. There was something in the air. Rhys Darby was headlining. He’s a kiwi comic who lived in the UK for 4 or 5 years, steadily working his way round the comedy circuit; making annual appearances at the Edinburgh Fringe until finally he made it to Hollywood. He plays a prominent role in The Flight of the Conchords – a cult TV comedy show that has taken the Internet by storm and has been a buzz word amongst comedians for the past year or so.

I had seen a couple of episodes of that show but didn’t really know what to expect from his solo work. In short, he was brilliant, amazing and as a friend said afterwards, ‘beautiful’. There was no ego attached to this man. No ‘Look at me, I’m showing off!’ What he was doing looked effortless. His material was original, entertaining and sharply executed. His act consisted of stunning sound effects with a very physical delivery. There was just so much to take in and I think that’s what made it for me; the sounds, the movement, the material. I stood for the entire 40 minutes beaming like a fool and when he finished I was speechless. His act changed the way I view stand ups and comedy.

Comedy doesn’t have to be racist, sexist, rude or political to get a reaction. It can simply be gentle, observational, harmless fun and can get just as many laughs, be just as hilarious. Like most comics, Darby has been performing the same material for years, but it’s his familiarity with the material and the slickness of his delivery that make him stand out. Proof that if you put the work in, eventually you will reap the rewards.

Watching a stand up perform new material can sometimes be quite a painful experience, but regardless of how cringeful it is, for the practitioner it’s invaluable. The only way to truly know whether your act is funny or not is to perform it in front of a live audience. You then discover what works, what can be cut, what needs tweaking. Practice makes perfect and once you’ve found that your material does (hopefully) work, you can really start to enjoy your time on stage.

Being comfortable with your subject matter and knowing it inside out gives you the freedom to play around with your delivery, your comic timing and sets you up, ready to tackle those drunken hecklers or, on a more positive note, affords you the time and space to ad lib and have fun with your audience. All these factors were present in Darby’s performance. He knew exactly what we wanted and delivered it spot on.

I don’t know whether I will get the opportunity again to see him in that kind of environment – a small pub theatre of about 70 people – but if you ever see his name on the bill of a comedy night near you, I highly recommend you go along and check out his beautiful comedy.

* The drunken heckler was a woman. In my, albeit small and limited, experience of the comedy world I have noticed that the drunken hecklers who seem to ruin a show are women. They seem to think that alcohol has given them super human powers that make their normal voices a whisper and have no qualms about starting up a conversation with the person sat next to them, behind them or even on stage in front of them!

Comments

No comments yet. Add your own »

Leave a Reply

Subscribe to this posts comments via RSS »

Comment Guidelines: You can use these tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

Spam and defamatory remarks will be removed. Please be fair and respect other people's opinions.

Email addresses will never be published.

← Previous post
The Cows Come Home
Next post →
The Last Days of Judas Iscariot

Info and Credits

For more information on Rhys Darby, including forthcoming tour dates, visit the Rhys Darby website.

Recent posts by Andrea Donovan

Recent Articles

Sort posts by

Connect with LTB

Resources

Practical and scholarly theatre links, podcasts, blogs, cheap tickets and more.
See resource page »

Interactive Maps


Visit our map page »

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Close
E-mail It