I have to admit, it was not my initial idea to go to see Eat, Pray, Laugh, the swansong tour of Barry Humphries in his many guises, but I was very glad that I listened to the recommendation and went along. Humphries’ creations, in particular Dame Edna Everage, are comedy classics, though their heyday was probably in the 80s.
The audience for the opening night show pretty much lived up to what one would expect, with a whole bunch of Kiwi celebrities (I spotted Rima Te Wiata and Louise Wallace, I believe) in amongst a mainly blue rinse set, with the odd scattering of late teenage kids brought along as well as a few of the more… intermediate members such as myself. Of course, being a live performance, some people were determined to arrive late, though quite why about 30 people were let in about 15 minutes into the show, obscuring the view of those behind them as they stumbled dazedly around trying to find their seats, I can only blame on a misguided sense of charity.
Our seats were not the cheapest, but we ended up way back in the gods, the Civic theatre in Auckland packed to the rafters (literally) with a crowd that had braved fairly miserable weather to attend. In the end, our distance from the stage was a bit of a blessing, as those closer in were subject to interrogation and a bit of mockery, not to mention the odd shower of spit.
Les Patterson led the charge, and provided most of the saliva, as the scene opened on a typical Aussie back yard Barbie (though the grass seemed an NZ kind of lush). With a backing pianist and two couples of stunning backup dancers and singers, Patterson explored what it meant to be a cultural ambassador and connoisseur of cuisine, all from a mildly racist, sexist, Australian perspective. His early spittage revealed that the front row was populated by a couple of shriekers, whose loud cries could be heard throughout the auditorium, though the tone indicated they kind of enjoyed what they were being subjected to. A bit of toilet humour, a bit of audience participation, a few songs, and Patterson’s act gave way to some minor characters in Humphries’ backlog, one relying on paedophilic humour (I’m always a bit wary of that sort) and the next not really a funny character at all, though the audience chuckled at the odd mildly amusing reference as a way to get some levity out of the scene.
But, after the half time break, the character we had all come to see was brought on stage on the back of a large elephant, and while the stage was almost bereft of props, the glittering wardrobe, outlandish eyewear, and sheer personality of Dame Edna Everage lit up the entire stage. The granny beside me definitely lit up at the sight.
Edna’s humour comes from the fact she is a narcissistic and otherwise quite horrible human being, putting everyone down in delightfully demonic ways, always with a smile on her face and with a non-apology afterwards. An hilarious opening True Hollywood Stories style “whatever happened to Edna?” programme introduced her to the stage, and from there she defended her Al Qaeda connections, then progressed through a few other jokes, before licking her lips, sharpening her claws, eyeing the audience greedily and then launching in to attack her true prey – us.
And she was devastating. Scorn was heaped on people at the back, in the cheap seats, but the real trauma was saved for those in the front row whom she found fascinating. Up on stage a quartet were hauled, mauled and then shawled, before being returned to their seats for the grand, gladiola-filled finale.
The great thing about humiliating the audience is that it does not rely on external references. A lot of the material was, unsurprisingly, based on Australian knowledge and experiences, and so while I understood a lot of it, some of the barbs were completely unpointed for me. Humphries is a smart cookie though, and there were several local references woven into the material. However, the audience provided the funniest moments of the night, and sometimes Humphries ignorance of things Kiwi was bliss, such as when the audience members started talking about towns like Levin, as no one can roll her eyes like Edna, and even from the back of the room, we could feel the massive amounts of distaste packed in to the small pauses between her responses.
Humphries finished the night with a “personal” appearance, thanking everyone coming to his final tour - until the next one of course. It was a lovely way to finish the evening, and to congratulation the man who has created such quintessentially Australian characters, and who provided such a wonderful performance on an otherwise quite horrible evening.
Verdict: Eat, Pray, Laugh scored a few more misses amongst the hits than I would have expected, but Humphries’ mastery of classic putdowns, humour from new situations, and of the mild mockery of those who have paid to come see him made the evening a fun-filled affair. The staging of the show itself might not have been particularly special, but the show itself glittered and shone like one of Dame Edna’s most bejewelled frocks. 7 diamantes out of 10.
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