Pull My Finger

The Comedy Festival’s on again, and it sure is great to be in town at this time of year. The only other time that I make the effort to scurry away from work as fast as my little legs will carry me, and brave the chilly evening air standing in long queues, is for the Melbourne International Film Festival.

I’ve been fortunate enough to see Wil Anderson, who is by now a comedy festival stalwart, for the last four years running. And now that I find myself writing this, I’m thinking about what it is that keeps drawing me back. From the moment Anderson begins introducing himself from somewhere offstage, this year alongside AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" (but before the bogan bit), you know you’re in for a rollicking show. And when he quite literally bursts on stage like an excited, overgrown child, talking at a hundred miles an hour, the pace can initially be hard to keep up with.

But there’s much to like about Wil – he’s affable, razor-sharp, open-minded and ridiculously funny. He skilfully shows up the shortcomings and foibles of people in power, and unlike some other people in his line of work, he manages to do so without a hint of smugness or superiority (take note, Rod Quantock!). And the show is also one of those where on several occasions, you’ll find yourself nodding vigorously in agreement. Without giving too much away, “Wil Communication” is highly topical and nothing is sacred - Michelle (she was just trying to impress the judges) Leslie, to the recent wheat board scandal (they weren’t bribes, they were kickbacks), and even the potentially prickly topic of the Cronulla riots, are all covered. It’s also a real treat to see Anderson revisiting terrain that he included in last year’s show, such as Shannon Noll and the union of Bec and Lleyton.

In short, do yourself a favour and catch this brilliant ne’er-do-well or er, ragamuffin.