Comedy gets a new dinges
A Jew goes to the Rabbi and says: “Rabbi, I have a problem. My eldest son came of age and so I sent him to Israel. But he’s just returned and says he’s converted to Christianity.”
Rabbi says: “Funny you should say that. Exactly the same thing happened to me. I sent my eldest son to Israel and he came back a Christian. Perhaps we should consult the Chief Rabbi.”
They go to the Chief Rabbi and share their concern with him. The Chief Rabbi says: “Funny you should say that. I, too, sent my eldest son to Israel many years ago and he came back a Christian.” Let us ask God.
They all respectfully request God’s guidance, until a voice booms from the heavens: “FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT.”
Ok, that’s my favourite joke, and the only one I know. It was told to me by a Jewish friend 20 years ago.
The reason I like it, and remember it, is because it is honest and, because it was originally told to me by a Jew, self-effacing. You cannot argue with that joke, unless it’s about the name Jews have for God.
The reason I relate it here is because it reflects the same tone of humour Rob van Vuuren employs in his comedy. His honesty throws the ridiculousness of the daily contradictions we live with into relief.
As for self-effacement, there’s none of the razzling, self-aggrandising bullshit so many South African comedians employ in an effort to hype their audience into applauding like a herd of cows lowing to be milked. Ok, there’s a little bit, a touch of the false bonhomie attained through the inadvertent osmosis that comes from having to spend too much time backstage with narcissists and the parade of extroverts who cling to showbiz like barnacles to a Taiwanese fishing trawler. But there are no badly dressed one-liners (although Rob himself is rather badly dressed), and the dust of 17 or so years on stage (and in some bad movies) is soon wiped off by his nonchalance.
His transparency is refreshing, there appears to be very little in the way of defensive posing or the aggression often synonymous with stand-up comedy. It’s his own life he’s laughing at, except when he’s laughing at koalas.
Rob’s a funny oke. He’s a bit like Eddie Eckstein, except a new generation model – sleeker, faster, fitter – in that you can’t look at him and take him seriously at the same time. Well, not when he’s under a spotlight. It can’t be easy, always having to ensure you’re in a darkened room and facing away from your companion in order to have a serious conversation.
Nah, actually, I’m bullshitting. Rob is perfectly capable of being serious on stage. He’s proved it over and over again, and proves it in What What as well. Amidst throwing a whole kitchen sink full of ridiculousness at us, he manages, about two-thirds in, to change the mood completely. He starts talking about his beloved, late Grandmother, and death, and the Catacombs in Paris. He goes philosophical and poetic and you go along with it, right up until he starts sounding like an inspirational quote on Facebook. Then he snaps out of it and makes you feel stupid for believing him. Except, like that joke about the son of God, he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true – there’s the rub. Screw you china. Perhaps I’ll blame that digression on director Tara Notcutt, as I will the weirdly sudden shift, out of nowhere, into an absurd dance routine, complete with a tiny tutu on each leg. Not that that wasn’t fun, it was just the transition was jarring. Beyond that, he pulls it off.
That’s the great thing with Rob, he can pull a lot off. He’s able to mix stand up comedy with drama and physical theatre and some pretty grotesque facial moves to provide a genre of comedy that may well be unique.
His take on Australia will give every South African a glow of self-satisfaction – a bit like Trevor Noah giving the USA the what-what on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, and if you ever meet his dog Bella, you’ll hold on to your wallet.
What What is on at the Baxter Golden Arrow Studio until 17 January. It deservedly won a Silver Ovation award at the National Arts Festival. — Steve Kretzmann
10.12.2014