David Quirk: Neanderthal Brow
Live Review

Suicide, necrophilia, dying alone… David Quirk’s subject matter isn’t exactly happy-go-lucky fare. But with a compellingly relaxed delivery and thoughtful writing, he draws you into his mature material, producing an atmospheric and distinctively low-key late-night show.

He has long been one of the more interesting comedians of the festival, though his slow, obtuse delivery and wilful awkwardness has previously made him frustratingly inconsistent and difficult to embrace. Neanderthal Brow, however, marks a maturing of this style, allowing him to continue to shun easy laughs in favour of a more ponderous set without alienating those who seek him out. He’s still not the finished product, but this, his fourth Melbourne solo show, marks a great stride in the right direction.

And don’t think all his material is grim. He can chat away about words he loves and hates, about reading the autobiography of Guns and Roses guitarist Slash, or about the arrogance of parenthood as easily as he can about the darker subjects, although it is these that inevitably define the mood.

The laughs don’t come particularly thick and fast, but they tend to be worth waiting for, arising from his considered, well-formed opinions on the topics that genuinely interest him. The gravity of this approach also allows him more theatrical interludes, such as his bitter-sweet re-enactment of a man dying on a park bench.

Like so much of the show, it hardly feels like a subject for comedy, but it’s a memorable, interesting routine, delivered with quiet skill. Combined with the more accessibly funny moments, it makes for an intriguing hour from a comic becoming increasingly comfortable with his own voice.