Go see this show. What? You want more convincing? Fine. Here are some words:
I first encountered the Esteemed Honourable Sir Dr Professor Neal Portenza during his 2010 Melbourne Fringe Festival Interactive Goat Hour. It was a chaotic whirly wind of barely controlled anarchy and lolly bags. I laughed myself stupid, causing water to leak out of my eyes, and maybe other orifices, and I’ve made it a point to see everything Captain Commander Dr Professor Neal Portenza ever does ever again.
Before I “explain” why, a word of warning: if you don’t like audience participation, stop reading now and go away. This is not the show for you. Okay. His Lordship The Reverend Dr Professor Neal Portenza is deliberately demented, a loopy, faux-incompetent embodiment of the phrase ‘there’s method to this madness’. His art is in making you think it’s all going to fall apart any second, but it rarely – if ever? – does; that he has no idea what he’s doing; but he clearly – mostly? – does. I mean, he’s formally trained in this ‘controlled chaos comedy’ thing, at the same French clowning school responsible for the likes of Doctor Brown and current Barry Award-nominee Trygve Wakenshaw.
Served more by a framework than a script, there’s an unpredictability to what he does, and the barest of narratives. His is a world of anything-goes absurdity, of interactive danger excitement, of wanton hilarity: whether he’s arguing with himself, making out with a beautiful bearded audience princess, stealing your handbag, painting your portrait, scoring a 10 in rhythmic gymnastics or dodging an armed audience – a sold-out audience – his show is a dog’s breakfast … if you served your dog 100% organic, free-range, grass-fed, champagne-encrusted comedy truffles, dipped in a zesty ‘Help Me My Face Hurts I Can’t Stop Laughing’ sauce.
Go see this show.
BY MELANIE SHERIDAN
