Hamish Boyle
Maggot is the absurd, expectation-subverting twice-removed daughter exiled to the colonies after a steamy night between The Goon Show and Monty Python. There is a damn good reason this show has the accolades it does. From the writing to the performance to the confounding choice of the show’s own title, Maggot may well be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen on stage.
This show is particularly tickling for those who even have a modicum of knowledge about storytelling structure or performance: so basically everyone. Every single opportunity to joke and subvert the “normal way” to set-up, follow through, and pay off a scene, is taken. The moments where you think you know how it’ll play it out know that you know and subvert the expected subversion. Anything and everything goes, and it happens snappily. Incredibly touchy cowboys will only just be wrapping a piece up when the next act literally comes screaming around the corner. Every skit in this wonderfully broad medley of characters and premises is simultaneously given the time it needs to flourish, and succinct enough to keep a great pace.
Dang, did this show give me performer’s envy. Elle Wootton, Angela Fouhy, and Freya Finch clearly enjoy flipping between all the accents and physicalities; they’re a perfect comedy trio. From Finch’s pop-star turned artist who is 100% outstandingly uncomfortable all the time, to Wootton’s self-indulgent witchy magician, to Fouhy’s Mania Incarnate via cheerleader, each character is so distinct from the rest. Thus, every single skit has a dynamic interplay between characters, which is consistently pushed to its potential.
There’s a remarkable sense of comic timing. The three know exactly how long to hold an greatly excruciating pause, as well as when to slash in with a punchline. They also play with the audience effortlessly. Everyone and everything in the room is included in the skits. The trio know when the audience will laugh, and we do. We laugh. A lot. I heard every permutation of laugh I know there to exist, and that was just from myself.
This is my favourite style of comedy, of show, of performance and it’s utterly amazing to see it done so effortlessly well. Thinking back on this show, I’ve had to stop writing this review a couple times in order to stop giggling at the idea of Fouhy’s bro-clown being perplexed by her own act. This show doesn’t just boggle the mind, it breaks it down into a fine paste and paints the walls with it. Maggot showcases a complete, gleeful disregard for the sane and I love it for existing.