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New Zealand's Brat Pack
This show has not yet got a description.
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Original Review:
There's really only one reason to see this collection of young Kiwi stand-ups - and that's the ultra-energetic Rhys Darby, who dementedly rattles through his manic material like an antipodean Lee Evans. Otherwise we have Terry Frisby, whose been playing the London circuit for a good few months. His pervy sex-obsessed routine couldn't be any nearer the knuckle, but he mostly manages to get away with it, thanks to a certain boyish charm, providing a fair number of laughs for the less easily offended. The other two, though, were spectacularly unremarkable. Chris Brain had an ill-fated bash at some topical material, but floundered and settled back into a much safer stream of knob gags, whereas Jeremy Elwood never even attempted anything different, staying in depressingly familiar waters. And the dismal attempt at a Whose Line Is It Anyway improv game to bring the quartet together at the end was cringe-makingly ill-conceived, demonstrating only their inability to think on their feet. |
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Forget Rhys Darby, he's just The Bastard child of Lee Evans and Michael Winslow. The other three guys take the stage and make it their own. Terry Frisby is one sick puppy, and I loved it. Chris Brain blows any perception that comedy has dumbed down, and Jeremy Elwood reminds us that, even if it isn't now, comedy should be the new rock and roll. Bring it on boys, you rock. Mike Gough, August 2001 |
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I'd have to agree. Rhys Darby is the answer to comedy of the future. Unspecific abstraction of bizarre brilliance.He has to be seen and he's in the brat pack. Tony Follari, August 2001 |
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Go see these guys! Cool and funny, cheap suits and a great taste in cocktails. Comedy from Down Under - fresh perspectives, dark edges and Rhys Darby. Even the UK doesn't have a Rhys Darby Scott Blanks, August 2001 |

