Bedroom Philosopher – Wit-Bix : Melbourne International Comedy Festival
By Lisa Dib
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Bedroom Philosopher
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I can’t help but feel we are seeing the return, perhaps only
temporarily, of the Bedroom Philosopher of old here tonight, ladies and
germs.
The BP that I can recall from some years past- the
bumbling, awkward, pre-Northcote Bedroom Philosopher- is seeping
through tonight, as Philosopher (Justin Heazlewood on the roll) fills
his show with cynical and sublime stand-up rather than the albeit
brilliant socially observant tunes and Melbourne-centric tram tracks
(geddit???).
Remnants of Songs from the 86 Tram happily remain,
of course, like the bogan ballad Trishine (“Words….got nothin’/ They
can onomato-piss off”), but mostly Heazlewood takes the stage as the
effusive and erudite stand-up act, covering topics far and wide as
indie bands and the dangerous territory of Aboriginals (the crowd tense
up and hope our performer doesn’t hit Rodney Rude strides); but
Heazlewood is a kind soul and has nary a racist bone in his
bespectacled body, so it turns out okay.
You can breathe out now.
Along
with his and the Awkwardstra’s tracks like Acronymphomaniac (not played
tonight but well worth a looksee), Heazlewood is attempting to bring
the sensitive man out of the shadows; no longer shall men with- gasp!-
feelings be forced to dodge barbs of accusations on their sexuality.
Line
of the night goes to Heazlewood’s summation of male reading habits;
namely Zoo magazine: “I’d rather men read Frankie than a magazine so
DEBASED it makes FHM look like Time magazine”.
After the
Motown-esque Leaving my Hairdresser (“…showing you the back…of the
door”) with the Awkwardstra- complete with delightful fumbling- and an
oddly surreal performance piece wherein Heazlewood takes to the stage
dressed as a cat and does… well, cat stuff to Wicked Game by Chris
Isaak, it’s all over for another year of Bedroom Philosopher happy
madness.
Heazlewood clearly has no grand plans to become A
Rock Star or a Footy Show comedian; he doesn’t compromise his material
to suit a broader mindset and hence peddles a cerebral, witty and
charming show. I just can’t get the image of Cat Heazlewood out of my
head...
Tickets: www.comedyfestival.com.au
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