Some Comedy Festival shows work because they’re so intricate and well-scripted, and they lead you through a winding path to a satisfying conclusion. Jimmy McGhie’s show feels a lot looser than that. It’s a very relaxed, easygoing affair which, if other reviews are any indication, seems to vary quite a lot from night to night. On this night he kicked off with a good chunk of time riffing on his uniquely British perspective of that day’s visit to the Fitzroy Swimming Pool: the jerks who swim too slowly in the medium-speed lane, the pressure of the posted recommended times, the way Australians seem to take the sun for granted. By the time the show properly kicks in you already feel like you know McGhie and you’re ready to hear what he has to say.
There are certain key bits that seem to be a regular part of the set. His reaction to the cavalcade of friends posting their ultrasound scans on Facebook; his experiences in trying to get fit but mostly just propping up the Nike corporation; his experiences with drugs and how they helped him cope with the death of his dad (and not in the ‘block out all feelings’ way you might suspect). But McGhie drifts in and out of these well-developed chunks, not afraid to ride a wave from the audience to see where it’ll take him.
Ultimately this looseness leaves the show feeling a little underdone in the sense that you find yourself wanting either more spontaneity or more of the more developed material. McGhie seems charming, affable and intelligent, the kind of guy you’d want to hang out with and swap stories with, but it does feel like he could stand to be a little more commanding. Still, this is a great show to see, especially if you’ve just been to something with a snappier, more unrelenting pace and you then need something more relaxed to bring you back down to earth.
PETER HODGSON
