Two Queer Comedy Shows, Two Chappell Roan References
A brilliant night of queer comedy and theatre at The Motley Wherehaus
Reader, I am buzzing.
Last night was a two show night at the Motley Wherehaus, first came Jenna Suffern's Lobster In A Glass which was followed up with Yoz Mensch's My Grandpa Doesn't Follow Me On Instagram: A Guide To Trans-generational Road-Tripping. Both as different as they could be from each other, but both wonderful little nuggets of queerness which absolutely deserve to be seen.
Let's get into it.
My night started with four sushi rolls downed in the park across from the Wherehaus, before I bumped into the always lovely Jacinta Anderson (of Bloomshed fame) who's busy working Doug & Max's show. Down we went into the basement of the Wherehaus (unnerving) and into one of the smallest rooms you've ever seen which was giving very:
Jenna's hour of standup charts the distance between what they thought their life would be as a teenager (famous Olympian, 100m hurdles) and what it's eventuated into (non-binary lesbian standup).
As a kid Jenna remembers a psychic predicting that they'd become a star and so has spent the past couple decades waiting for that to happen. Jenna takes us on a journey from being a jock destined for greatness in high school, to becoming a 'prominent lesbian' in Sydney, and all the weird little hiccups life throws at you.
Some of the stories Jenna tells are f*cking ridiculous and unfold into a satisfying tapestry of what it's like being a zillennial queer nowadays. Especially one with ambitions and a desire for attention. (Lots of important lessons in this show about manifesting success.)
This was my first standup show of the festival and was a great one for me to start with I reckon, it being as fun and relatable as it was. Definitely worth seeing, especially for anyone who's a dyslexic lesbian (representation is so important).
After Jenna's set finished I snuck off for a late night snack of hot cross buns with Caramello filling inside—foul—why does Woolworths have to ruin a good pastry with so much processed chocolate juice? I would've much preferred to watch Jenna's set again rather than eat another nonsense hot cross bun.
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My next show was Yoz's My Grandpa Doesn't Follow Me on Instagram which I had heard a bit of buzz about from it's season at Adelaide Fringe but other than that had no clue what to expect—and wow am I positively delighted I caught it.
This show is basically an hour of Yoz recounting a road trip in the UK she took with her Grandpa from Land's End to John O' Groats. Like Little Devil (which I could hear through the wall of the venue lmao), this show is less Comedy Festival and much more fringe, both in terms of tone and form. Yoz blends AV, clown, and monologues to recount the banality and emotional stakes of this road trip. It is pure experimental fringe theatre and it works so wonderfully to explore the weight of familial expectations and the distance that puts between queers and their families.
Yoz's story follows her not-coming-out-as-trans to her Grandpa, but it's not as sad as it sounds. Like it's devastating but there's some beautiful lightness and realisations at the end. The picture that she paints of her Grandpa is so evocative and fully formed—he's this grumpy old fart who does exactly what he wants and so Yoz spends the two weeks fitting into exactly what he thinks she is (read: a cis man).
Let's also talk about the impeccable sound design on this work, hauntingly foreboding strings transition (heh) into optimistic drones and it really lifts the show and helps it find its tone. Meanwhile the projection is as superb as you'll find in a makeshift venue like The Motley, and it's integrated into Yoz's performance really excellently, being at times a co-performer, backdrop, or overlaying onto the show in a mesmerising way.
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I think one of my favourite things about this show was also how slow it was. Yoz never rushes the narrative and makes us sit in moments that need it. I feel like I'm always going on and on about how the best theatre is always 60 minutes or less and this is exactly why—when a show's under an hour you can spend time sitting in the moment without making me want to check my watch to find out when I get to escape—because I know I'm never more than 50 minutes from freedom.
This bit's a little spoiler-y so read at your own risk
There was this show from Carolina Bianchi I saw at Rising a couple years back (Alison Croggon's review sums it up better than I could) in which the lead performer ingested a drug in the midst of a show exploring femicide and patriarchy.
In the final moments of Yoz's show, right before she reveals a fitting alternate title for the work, she too takes a drug on stage in a euphoric sing along to Chappell Roan. Unlike the role that drugs play in Bianchi's performance, this moment is one of catharsis—which felt fucking amazing to witness.
I don't know what I'm trying to say here but in my head these two shows are linked for me now; something about women using drugs and performance to exert agency over their lives, albeit in incredibly different contexts, meanings, and performance styles.
All up, My Grandpa Doesn't Follow Me is a phenomenal bit of fringe theatre. Innovative theatricality and a not-coming-out story that I haven't really seen before. You really just cannot miss out on this one, I think it closes at the end of the week so go, go, go!
Last night was a great evening of shows and I'm still feeling so warm inside—I can't wait to spend the week telling anyone who'll listen to me about them.
I've got another two show evening tonight, so you can expect to hear from me again in your inbox tomorrow morning(ish).
