Now I am probably not the best person to be doing a review of Mr Hills, as you can probably tell by my sidebar on the right. I love him. I can openly say I think he is the funniest bloke on the planet, but it’s not just that. His moral standpoint on things impresses me and I think there should be more people on the planet like him. Anyway, enough gushing. nb doesn’t read this blog anyway. Actually, I know he lurks, he just never posts. So lets just say he doesn’t “actively” read. I think he is ok with me loving Adam. Just like I also love Stephen Quartermain and Justin Madden. Please note, I loved Justin Madden before he was a parliamentarian, so don’t think I am weird.
Ok, getting off track again. Back to the review. It was at the Forum, which is a venue I really like. The last time I was there I saw Jet in concert. I was getting annoyed waiting for the venue to start, because this annoying mole sitting behind me would not shut up. I know the show hadn’t started, but why do people with annoying voices never shut up? She was talking about all the shows she was going to see as a part of the Comedy Festival. Here is a transcript:
“Oh my god, I am going to see that girl who hosts that show on ABC. You know the one – Rockwiz? She is so funny. I can’t remember her name but she is so funny. Then I am going to see that guy out of Lano and Woodley. The Woodley guy, he is such a crack up. Then I am going to see Dave Hughes….”
My thought process was as follows:
1. It’s Julia Zemiro and the show is on SBS you moron.
2. How surprising. I cannot stand either Lano or Woodley. By the way they have broken up.
3. Dave Hughes. How typical based on your conversation so far.
4. What are you doing here?
Anyway, lights dim and AH comes out, announcing himself ending the bleeding of my eardrums. Quite a few latecomers arrive who have been held up because the Star Wars show finished late. So of course they got a bollocking for that. He interacted with the audience quite a bit, which was done well. Sometimes that can be over the top and take over a show, but there appeared to be a happy medium. He relayed stories of travelling overseas and does absolutely stellar impersonations and observations of the Irish, British, Australians, Egyptians, Welsh, Americans and a Nigerian taxi driver.
Stories such as where he was when he found out Steve Irwin had died (in a pub in Ireland) and how he was told: “Ah, so sorry to hear about your man” were told brilliantly. He told various stories about his experiences with beauracracy gone bad in a number of different countries, which were very good.
One particularly funny moment was when he asked if he had any Irish people in the audience and one girl put up her hand. He asked where she was from and she said an Irish town. The funny thing was, it was spoken in such an ocker Australian accent, complete with the lilt at the end of the sentence, which makes everything we say sound like a question. It took AH aback and he commented on how Australian she sounded and asked how long she had lived in Australia. To which the reply was “oh, I was born here. But my parents are Irish”. The entire audience cracked up. It’s people like that who give the Irish a bad name!
AH spoke about a Banjo Patterson poem “Clancy of the Overflow” which he felt epitomised Australia and urged people to look it up. He recited a few verses verbatim, including a few verses with a gay inflection in his voice, which was simply hilarious. I have included the poem below, I hear where he is coming from.
The show ended with AH dancing on the roof of a 1989 Mazda 929 to “Footloose”. You will have to go and see the show to see how that ties in. A fantastic ending and I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I love him more. If you go and see at least one show during MICF, make it Adam Hills. 5 stars.
I have also published my emails that I sent while we were overseas last year. It doesn’t matter if anyone else reads them, but I like to. They make me smile when I am feeling down.
Clancy of the Overflow – A.B. Paterson
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan years ago;
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
just on spec, addressed as follows, "Clancy, of The Overflow."
And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected
(and I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar);
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
"Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are."
In my wild erratic fancy, visions come to me of Clancy
gone a-droving "down the Cooper" where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
for the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.
And the bush has friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
in the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
and he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plain extended,
and at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
and the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city,
through the open window floating, spreads it foulness over all.
And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street;
and the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting
comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.
And the hurrying people daunt me,and their pallid faces haunt me
as they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
with their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
for townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.
And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
while he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal
but I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of The Overflow.
