Jack McGee
One of the things I love about reviewing live art is helping preserve it. So many unique and singular shows happen across Te Whanganui a-Tara every week and end up lost to time, tucked snugly away in the ever-degrading memories of the five to-100 people who saw it. It’s helpful to have a record of some form, even if it’s just some punter like me’s hyper-biased recollection of the evening he had. Often reading a review of a past show is the closest thing you can do to catching up on the first few seasons of a television series or doing a retrospective of a live artist's earlier work.
I am rooting for Tough Tiger Fist so badly. I think they are funny, charismatic, good natured performers who with their Billy T nomination in tow, have a long future in Aotearoa performing arts. It’s with that in mind, that I think it’s worthwhile to document how dysfunctional, disastrous, and utterly feral the second evening of their comedy fest show Star Crossed Brothers is. It is such a special trainwreck that it should not be condemned to the hazy memories of me and the other confused audience members who populated Cavern Club on Wednesday night.
Some context, last year I reviewed Tough Tiger Fist’s Fringe Show Sax Appeal. I was fairly down on it, mostly just due to its subject matter, which felt limited in its scope and a little outdated. Walking into Star Crossed Brothers, I’m optimistic, and excited to see how they’ve developed as performers over the past year. I’m a little worried when they arrive in the venue shortly after I do and start packing in their instruments with under ten minutes before the show is supposed to start.
My concerns are proved valid. Mics are down, our two performers Ben Cleland and Matt Parker quickly identify it’s not worth the battle and decide to do the show unplugged. Great call. Energy starts high and after a bizarre story about Cleland and Parker’s trip to a Wellington Fishing Store, we’re into our first song of the night. Tiger Fist are heavily inspired by Flight of the Conchords, and this song, ostensibly written as a (rejected) promotional song for Fonterra, is very reminiscent of Brett and Jermaine. It’s an expansion of a song they did last year in Sax Appeal and either they’ve really worked on it or I’ve gotten over myself because this time round, I’m really charmed by it. Cleland plays the recorder through the first half, before jumping up on the seats and looming over the audience for a bovine-rap-breakdown. There’s some wordplay that’s both cringeworthy and sensational such as the phrase “udder disaster”, and there’s a diversion halfway through for all of us to come together and agree that “almond milk tastes like shit.” Often, Cleland or Parker will make a joke that’s a bit too teenage-boy but I never get time to stop and groan before they’re onto a new idea.
Quickly after this, Cleland and Parker are murdered on stage, by a Frenchman. The French thing, which is going to become a prominent theme throughout the rest of the show (Foux du Fafa, anyone?), is introduced as “topical, on-point comedy” all about pressing issues of today, such as the rugby, and the blowing up of the Rainbow Warrior. As much as my inner narcissist is thrilled that this joke might be directed at my previous review calling their material outdated, the French stuff is rough. There’s a couple of good lines that come out of it later in the show (a machine gun going “ratatataouille”, and a classic French-person-surrendering gag), but it’s the beginning of us as an audience feeling on the outside of the bit.
Now that Cleland and Parker have been murdered, we’re presented with some pre-recorded video material to introduce us to our new protagonists, police officers Bleland and Marker, as our performers change costumes. Unfortunately, the Cavern Club isn’t set up for projection, instead having two small-ish TV’s on the wall, with faulty HDMI cords causing the video to cut in and out. Without a dressing room, we get to watch Cleland and Parker watch this, and laugh through their pain. There’s a “this is how this night’s going to go, huh?” look in their eyes.
This might have been a blessing however because it gives Tiger Fist something else to blame for the recorded material falling flat. Honestly, even if this had been projected in crisp uninterrupted 4K, I can’t imagine it playing any better. It’s hard to explain what that magic quality is which separates “we’re in on the joke, this is goofy and a bit shit but it feels deliberate and we’re loving it” and “man, this feels like two teenagers making YouTube videos for their mates that I wasn’t meant to see”, but whatever it is, it’s missing here. The only thing more painful than Bleland and Marker’s police comedy, is Cleland’s fake-moustached-police-boss-character who’s obsessed with his cat (a vehicle for pussy jokes, of course). The dialogue is difficult to make out (which may just be due to the ever present technical difficulties of the ending), and the iMovie-esque editing begins endearing and quickly becomes painful. It feels endless, and the excitement in the room is palpable when the performers return to the stage.
From here on out, the plot begins to suffocate the show. The story of our two cops, their boss, their French colleague/murderer “Frenchie”, and their boss's cat, gets in the way of Tough Tiger Fist doing what they’re actually good at which is musical comedy. The songs seem to get further and further apart, as they spend more and more time in these plot-centric skits. I think the biggest issue here is that Cleland and Parker are deliberately trying to act badly. There's a winky nature to these segments, a “haha, look at how awful this is” energy, which somewhere along the line we as an audience start agreeing with a little too much.
Of course, as per the title of the show, our police officers prove to be in love with each other, and I’m not going to lie - it’s bad taste. It’s in that nebulous zone where if they’d been able to pull off the sincerity of it, it’d be endearing but instead it reeks of “wouldn't it be funny if we were gay, bro?” I don’t think Tiger Fist are intentionally homophobic but it’s not classy, and nor is it funny - well mostly, there’s a line where Cleland describes telling his friends that “his partner will be there soon”, referring to his fellow-cop-crush. Credit where credit’s due, this got a begrudging laugh out of me.
When we do finally get songs, they’re decent. There’s some great mocking of the police in It’s Hard to be a Cop, and the vibe of the room is pulled out of the gutter come the end of the show by a performance of Semi Pro, another returning song from Sax Appeal that feels almost like an anthem for the band, and has shades of Tim Minchin’s Rock and Roll Nerd. Semi Pro is elevated by its specificity (“We fly Jetstar!) and it’s a good call to keep it in active rotation.
In one final act to try and become professional and attract funders, Tiger Fist do a number dedicated to NZ Comedy Fest sponsor, Best Foods Mayo. I don’t quite remember how they got there, but they quickly end up pouring a jar of freshly opened mayo straight down my throat, as unfortunately they “don’t have a spoon!”.
Some context, last year I reviewed Tough Tiger Fist’s Fringe Show Sax Appeal. I was fairly down on it, mostly just due to its subject matter, which felt limited in its scope and a little outdated. Walking into Star Crossed Brothers, I’m optimistic, and excited to see how they’ve developed as performers over the past year. I’m a little worried when they arrive in the venue shortly after I do and start packing in their instruments with under ten minutes before the show is supposed to start.
My concerns are proved valid. Mics are down, our two performers Ben Cleland and Matt Parker quickly identify it’s not worth the battle and decide to do the show unplugged. Great call. Energy starts high and after a bizarre story about Cleland and Parker’s trip to a Wellington Fishing Store, we’re into our first song of the night. Tiger Fist are heavily inspired by Flight of the Conchords, and this song, ostensibly written as a (rejected) promotional song for Fonterra, is very reminiscent of Brett and Jermaine. It’s an expansion of a song they did last year in Sax Appeal and either they’ve really worked on it or I’ve gotten over myself because this time round, I’m really charmed by it. Cleland plays the recorder through the first half, before jumping up on the seats and looming over the audience for a bovine-rap-breakdown. There’s some wordplay that’s both cringeworthy and sensational such as the phrase “udder disaster”, and there’s a diversion halfway through for all of us to come together and agree that “almond milk tastes like shit.” Often, Cleland or Parker will make a joke that’s a bit too teenage-boy but I never get time to stop and groan before they’re onto a new idea.
Quickly after this, Cleland and Parker are murdered on stage, by a Frenchman. The French thing, which is going to become a prominent theme throughout the rest of the show (Foux du Fafa, anyone?), is introduced as “topical, on-point comedy” all about pressing issues of today, such as the rugby, and the blowing up of the Rainbow Warrior. As much as my inner narcissist is thrilled that this joke might be directed at my previous review calling their material outdated, the French stuff is rough. There’s a couple of good lines that come out of it later in the show (a machine gun going “ratatataouille”, and a classic French-person-surrendering gag), but it’s the beginning of us as an audience feeling on the outside of the bit.
Now that Cleland and Parker have been murdered, we’re presented with some pre-recorded video material to introduce us to our new protagonists, police officers Bleland and Marker, as our performers change costumes. Unfortunately, the Cavern Club isn’t set up for projection, instead having two small-ish TV’s on the wall, with faulty HDMI cords causing the video to cut in and out. Without a dressing room, we get to watch Cleland and Parker watch this, and laugh through their pain. There’s a “this is how this night’s going to go, huh?” look in their eyes.
This might have been a blessing however because it gives Tiger Fist something else to blame for the recorded material falling flat. Honestly, even if this had been projected in crisp uninterrupted 4K, I can’t imagine it playing any better. It’s hard to explain what that magic quality is which separates “we’re in on the joke, this is goofy and a bit shit but it feels deliberate and we’re loving it” and “man, this feels like two teenagers making YouTube videos for their mates that I wasn’t meant to see”, but whatever it is, it’s missing here. The only thing more painful than Bleland and Marker’s police comedy, is Cleland’s fake-moustached-police-boss-character who’s obsessed with his cat (a vehicle for pussy jokes, of course). The dialogue is difficult to make out (which may just be due to the ever present technical difficulties of the ending), and the iMovie-esque editing begins endearing and quickly becomes painful. It feels endless, and the excitement in the room is palpable when the performers return to the stage.
From here on out, the plot begins to suffocate the show. The story of our two cops, their boss, their French colleague/murderer “Frenchie”, and their boss's cat, gets in the way of Tough Tiger Fist doing what they’re actually good at which is musical comedy. The songs seem to get further and further apart, as they spend more and more time in these plot-centric skits. I think the biggest issue here is that Cleland and Parker are deliberately trying to act badly. There's a winky nature to these segments, a “haha, look at how awful this is” energy, which somewhere along the line we as an audience start agreeing with a little too much.
Of course, as per the title of the show, our police officers prove to be in love with each other, and I’m not going to lie - it’s bad taste. It’s in that nebulous zone where if they’d been able to pull off the sincerity of it, it’d be endearing but instead it reeks of “wouldn't it be funny if we were gay, bro?” I don’t think Tiger Fist are intentionally homophobic but it’s not classy, and nor is it funny - well mostly, there’s a line where Cleland describes telling his friends that “his partner will be there soon”, referring to his fellow-cop-crush. Credit where credit’s due, this got a begrudging laugh out of me.
When we do finally get songs, they’re decent. There’s some great mocking of the police in It’s Hard to be a Cop, and the vibe of the room is pulled out of the gutter come the end of the show by a performance of Semi Pro, another returning song from Sax Appeal that feels almost like an anthem for the band, and has shades of Tim Minchin’s Rock and Roll Nerd. Semi Pro is elevated by its specificity (“We fly Jetstar!) and it’s a good call to keep it in active rotation.
In one final act to try and become professional and attract funders, Tiger Fist do a number dedicated to NZ Comedy Fest sponsor, Best Foods Mayo. I don’t quite remember how they got there, but they quickly end up pouring a jar of freshly opened mayo straight down my throat, as unfortunately they “don’t have a spoon!”.
Aside from being one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever experienced, this moment is fantastic. Wiping mayo out of my beard and off my notes, I’m a little giddy. It’s exhilarating, it’s silly, it’s manic, I felt totally comfortable, and there’s a shared sense of disbelief from the room (performers included) that this actually is happening. It’s just fun, which at its best is what Tough Tiger Fist is; a pair of guys trying to get away with something. Overall, they didn’t succeed in that this time and man did they die trying, but fuck it right? Occupational hazard. A night to remember. This is exactly the kind of thing that should be documented for perpetuity. I’ll be in the front row for the next one.