“Five stars” says Jesus, in reply to a ‘heckle’ from another reviewer, asking for a quote. And who am I to argue with Jesus?
Lo, Adelaide Fringe Festival’s most controversial show – it was picketed by Fred Nile and his apoplectic followers, resulting in a police presence as well as security scans, bag checks and requisite media frenzy – has risen again in Melbourne. It’s a pre-Easter miracle, Hallelujah!
After a one-off debut at Melbourne Fringe last year, and the best publicity money can’t buy thanks to the Nile deluge, this first-of-two shows for MICF was more-than standing room only, as the curious and the blasphemous congregated to heckle Christ, aka comedian Josh Ladgrove (aka the Melbourne Fringe 2012 Best Comedy-winning Dr Professor Neal Portenza).
In a room thick with smoke, Jesus the Nazarene was taped to the cross. His crucifiers, perhaps acknowledging that it’s a little hard to argue for Jesus as the King of the Jews these days, had replaced the traditional INRI with a more or less apt YOLO. As the Holy One noted, it took eight minutes for someone to make the obvious heckle.
Speaking of, for a show called Come Heckle Christ, there seemed to be some confusion in the audience over the difference between a heckle and a question, but the Son of God was gracious, no doubt accepting that after two millennia people are obviously inquisitive. And what did people want to know? Boxers or briefs? (I think that’s been made pretty clear over the centuries); helmet or beanie? (Mary Magdalene – aka Ladgrove’s girlfriend Rachel Davis, of Melbourne Fringe 2013 Best Comedy-winning show Edge – was on hand to confirm that the Second Coming is definitely no longer Jewish); Team Edward or Team Jacob? (Team Bella); and which Mac should I buy? There were, of course, questions about masturbation, politics, religion and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Dave Callan provided many of the evening’s best actual heckles, but was beaten by an anonymous questioner wondering if he was shitty he hadn’t thought of this concept first. There were tax heckles, call your mother heckles, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life heckles. Throughout, the Messiah replied serenely – even when telling someone to fuck off – and, especially when silent, hysterically.
Come Heckle Christ is, by definition, a two-way street of a show and the more you, the audience, put into it the more you’ll get out of it. It’s also ingenious. Completely spontaneous, it relies equally on the crowd’s willingness to become part of the show and on Ladgrove’s well-exercised improvisational skills. On any given night, it could be a disaster. That tension is part of its thrill. As is the performance’s obvious boundary-pushing nature, but Ladgrove leaves it to the audience to set its own limits (surprisingly, but happily, some of the lowest tolerance was applied to a heckle regarding a desire for Kanye West’s death).
This is an extraordinary, exciting show, subverting traditional audience/performer roles whilst simultaneously exploring the full scope of one of the fundamental foundations of comedy. It’s unique, ballsy and brilliant, and there’s no doubt it’s a genuine festival highlight.
It’s also only on for one more show, on Easter Sunday! How could you not want to see that?
BY MELANIE SHERIDAN
