The Dark Hell of Reviews

OK, so here I am, performing in my show Trigger Warning at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival (for which tickets are STILL AVAILABLE by the way) and I am reading reviews.

Some of the reviews are for my show, which frankly aren't all that great. Some are for other shows, and are fantastic. Some are for other shows, and are dreadful. What I'm getting at is, across the festival as a whole, reviews vary. So you might say comedy is like everything else that gets reviewed.

Every year the festival brings complaints about reviews, but this year the complaints seem to have been a little bit louder and more vehement, ranging from negative reviews to poorly written reviews to sexist reviews to reviews that seem to miss the point of the show entirely.

The Herald Sun is the target of many of these complaints, as, by now, might be expected, and they ended up biting back, in this piece by Mikey Cahill in which he argues that comics need to harden the F up and learn to take the rough with the smooth. Though there are some of us who would love to see a bit of smooth to take with the rough.

Now, I am in an interesting little position here. As a comedian I am the subject of reviews. As a TV writer I am the creator of reviews. Although I've never reviewed live comedy - because what sort of weirdo wants to do THAT, am I right guys? Hahaha - I know a little of both sides. And I say "both sides" because comics definitely see reviewers as the enemy.

Anyway, from my vantage point, as a guy whose job is, at least partially, to pass judgment upon the artistic endeavours of others, and whose other job is to try to make people laugh, I just thought I'd say a few things to both comics and critics.

TO THE COMICS:

You're gonna get bad reviews sometimes. No comedian in the history of comedy, no matter how brilliant, was so good that everyone liked them, and it's an unfortunate fact that sometimes among the number who don't like you will be someone who's been hired to review you. So you're going to get bad reviews. Sometimes this will be because the reviewer is an idiot, or because the reviewer has an unreasonable grudge against you, or because the reviewer didn't understand what they were watching. But sometimes it's going to be because a perfectly intelligent person saw you, got all the jokes, and just didn't think you were funny. It happens.

And it is entirely your prerogative to complain about reviews - as I say, often those complaints will be justified. But also remember that a reviewer's job is just to give an opinion, and sometimes their opinion will honestly and without malice be that you suck. It doesn't mean you do, though - you're probably great. Never forget: the only truly accurate review is "did they laugh?"

TO THE CRITICS:

First of all, remember this: you're a writer. You're an artist. Your review is, in itself, a performance, and your job is to write well, just as much as the comic's job is to tell jokes well. And just as the comic needs to be able to take criticism of their artform, you need to be able to take criticism of yours. So don't write articles about how precious comedians who can't take criticism are, while demonstrating just how poorly you take it yourself. And keep alive the possibility that criticism, even of a critic, can be justified. Maybe, if you're being slammed, it really IS because you're not writing very well. 

A review of Alice Fraser's show was very positive, but its focus on her appearance and clothes was dreadful. Later on Twitter, the author tried to explain that focus - but if there is a good reason to focus on a comic's appearance, that's the sort of thing that should maybe be IN the review, if you're going to go on about how they're dressed. Otherwise the reader doesn't know why the hell you're talking about it. And that's bad writing. 

So if you're a critic, please do not forget that you should be trying to write something good here. Whatever opinion you have of the show you're reviewing, put that opinion across clearly, compellingly, entertainingly. And don't be as precious as the comic who whines that you didn't give them enough stars.

Fact is, most bitching about critics from comics I hear isn't about a bald opinion, it's about the way reviewers go about their jobs. So look, here's a few things I think comedy critics need to do to do their jobs well:

- Let the reader know what actually went on. By which I mean, don't make your review simply a recitation of your own feelings. Every critic needs a keen awareness of the fact that they are passing opinion on a subjective art form, and seeing as their view is simply one of many, it's entirely possible that readers of your review might enjoy what you hated, or vice versa. With this in mind, please attempt to give a sense of what the show was about, the style and the tone and the feel of the thing, as well as your good/bad judgment. What did you like, what did you hate, why did it work, why did it fail. There's not much space to cover all bases, but there should be some kind of effort made to make the review as informative as possible. In particular, the audience reaction is quite important - if you hated it, but everyone else there loved it, that's worth mentioning; in fact, it's pretty necessary to mention it.

- Review the comedy. Unless the performer's appearance is part of the act, don't mention it. Their job is to be funny, and your job is to assess their job. Stuff that isn't part of their job, isn't part of yours. And while we're at it, don't write dumb stuff about what a comedian is like "for a female comedian" - women haven't been a novelty in comedy for some time now, try to keep up.

- No spoilers. Way, way, wayyyyy too many reviewers of comedy shows still quote punchlines verbatim in their reviews. Usually this is done as a recommendation - "Look how funny this was!" - but guess what? Comics quite like to keep their jokes a surprise. Because it's funnier that way. When you quote our lines in your reviews, you're cutting our jokes off at the knees. It's entirely possible to describe what the subject matter of a show was without sabotaging the act.

- Don't be a dick. At least one comedian I know was less irritated by getting a poor review than by the fact the reviewer tweeted the link to the review directly to him. This is a dick move. Don't do this. Any comedian seeing someone send them a link to a review is going to think it's positive, because why else would they be so eager for them to read it? And then to see it's a bad one is an absolute kick in the guts. You've got the right, and the responsibility, to call it as you see it, but it's an ignoble impulse to want to rub someone's face in your takedown of their work. 

In fact, it's really better not to send your review to the comic, no matter what it says. Some comics are like me, curiosity forever overcoming prudence, and would go mad knowing reviews exist and not knowing what's in them. Some, however, genuinely don't want to read reviews at all. Don't go trying to force them to. If we want to know what the reviews are, we'll find them. We don't need you pushing it in our faces. Please respect our right to avoid the reviews if we want to.

But most of all, write well. Write honestly and skilfully and with passion for your craft. And if you get criticised for what you write, do remember that at least you're not on stage for an hour every night, having a bunch of strangers write their own review with laughter or silence every few seconds. The most hurtful critic of all is a quiet room, which is why writing is such an attractive profession - you don't have to face that quiet.

I Am A Delicate Flower

In all honesty I do not mind when people say I suck. If I'm in a good mood, I laugh. If I'm in a bad mood, I cry quietly to myself in the privacy of my own home. But I don't, as it were, "object" to their opinion, or cry "How DARE you?" Because of course it's just a matter of taste, isn't it? It would be wonderful if everyone loved me, but I know that's not going to happen, and if someone thinks I'm painfully unfunny or woefully untalented, that's their opinion and there's no point getting indignant about it. It's entirely subjective, and one must accept that when someone says, "You suck" it's as true for them as "You're hilarious" is for someone who...thinks you're hilarious.

So that's all fine. I'm not saying I enjoy being insulted, and to be honest if you think I suck I'd rather you kept it to yourself rather than tell me personally, but you have every right to say it if you think it.

However, being actually misunderstood is a different thing. Being accused of doing or saying things that I haven't done or said is a different thing. Being characterised as something I'm not is a different thing. And that, I confess, pisses me off a tad.

In the distant and not-too-distant past, I've been accused of being a misogynist, a racist, a rape apologist and prejudiced against or uncaring about people with disabilities, among other things. I know I'll probably continue being accused of these things, because I'm not going to change the way I write or the way I joke for the sake of those who accuse me of them. But, as much as I'd love to say that stuff bounces off me as ineffectually as "You're not funny", it doesn't. It angries up my blood.

Because those things are not a matter of opinion. They are simply not true. Not at all. Not just untrue, they're abhorrent, opposed to all I stand for, and to a great extent they're attitudes of which I've personally and professionally always tried my utmost to represent the antithesis.

All of which is to explain why, if I get accused of these things, I will be angry. I will be furious. And I will not necessarily respond with a sweet and friendly demeanour. Not that you don't have the RIGHT to go throwing about ignorant accusations - it's just that I also have the right to give you the bollocking you deserve for it.

So yes, I am a delicate flower. I have many faults I will readily admit to - please do not think that if you try to lumber me with ones I don't have, I'm going to smile and nod.

After the break: Stupid Pet Tricks

Trust me I am a professional television viewer

Hello.

I think we need to talk. It's about television.

You see...you know that TV show you like?

Well, you see, you don't. Like it, that is. The fact is, I've been a bit embarrassed for you, seeing you go around saying you like it, when it's perfectly obvious to me, as a professional television watcher and opinion-monger, that in fact you don't like it at all.

How could you? After all, I have seen that show, and it's perfectly obvious that it's not funny/interesting/realistic/well-acted/well-written/morally acceptable to decent human beings. I knew it from the very first scene, and I had the honesty to admit it. I don't see why you can't show the same integrity. Why not just admit that you hate that show? Why do you persist with this charade that you like it?

I mean, you know it's not GOOD. You obviously know this, because it is objectively true, so why not admit it? Why keep watching it? It seems to me that watching a show, and raving about its quality, when in actual fact it's very bad, is kind of perverse. I cannot imagine why anyone would do it, but then non-professional people who are not professionals move in mysterious ways. As a critic it is often difficult to understand non-critics and their struggles to comprehend the obvious.

I mean, look: of course television is all a matter of taste. And that is exactly my point: now that I've told you what my taste is, why do you continue to fight it?

It's getting a little awkward to be around you, frankly, the way you keep pretending to like this show that you actually hate. I have to keep making excuses for you. It's almost a weird kind of insanity, really - a denial of reality, a lying to yourself.

Let's be frank - you've been tricked. It's all the slick marketing, the tabloid hype. It's the manipulative commercials and the hysterical PR that's conned you into acting like you enjoy this terrible show that in actual fact you can't stand. If only you could see how you've been deceived. I guess you do start with a handicap, in that unlike professional critics like me, you are essentially stupid. But that's not your fault. Well it is a bit, but not entirely. It's your parents' fault really.

All you need to do is be honest. Stop lying to yourself, have the courage to tell the truth about your likes and dislikes. That show you hate, admit you hate it, stop saying you love it. And stop pretending you like all that music in your CD collection, when you know full well it's awful and you can't stand it. And please, for the love of god, stop going to see films that you fervently do NOT wish to see. Why not see a film you WANT to see, for once? If you're unsure of which films you want to see, I can give you a list. But stop pretending those ones you DO go and see are films you want to go and see, when it's perfectly clear to everyone especially me that they're not. But look, it has to start with that awful show.

It's time to come clean about your tastes in entertainment, and finally admit that they're the right ones. Just open your mouth and set yourself free with those four simple, lovely little words: "I agree with you".

You'll be OK. I'm here to help.

On Theatre

There has been much discussion this year of the merits or otherwise of the plays of David Williamson, with luminaries such as Jason Whittaker of Crikey's Angry Theatre Review Department, Annabel Crabb
of the ABC's Reviews of Reviews Department, and even Miranda Devine of News Ltd's Miranda Devine? Seriously? Department, weighing in with their opinions on whether Williamson is a national treasure or in fact if he is another thing which is not. Given that most people think of me as a combination of Devine, Whittaker and Crabb divided by three and averaged out over the duration, I think it well-behooves me to take a stab at analysing this peculiar cultural institution to decide beyond all doubt whether it's worth doing.

I am in a uniquely well-qualified position to comment on Williamson’s plays, since I have never seen any of them, which makes me totally unbiased. I have, however, seen a bit of Don’s Party – the bit where Graham Kennedy is nude – and two bits of Emerald City: the bit with the hose, and the bit where Ruth Cracknell laughs. So I have a good overall feel for the vibe, while lacking the dreadful baggage that comes with knowing what I am talking about.

The simple fact is that David Williamson is the greatest playwright this country has ever seen except for maybe Eddie Perfect or that other one who nobody remembers. However, it is unfortunate that despite this, Williamson has degenerated from a theatrical giant to a sad and pathetic parody of himself who embarrasses us all not only with his writing, but his very existence on the same planet as decent people like ourselves. How did it come to this, that the most brilliant genius ever is now retarded? The answer is probably that he was never very good anyway and the first part of this paragraph was wrong, or possibly it is more complicated than this or perhaps not. Let’s examine the issue at length and with a clear sense of which sections of the community are stupider than us.

First of all, there can be no doubt that Williamson is popular, so doesn't that make him good? Almost certainly yes, but then again he's definitely bad, so this theory doesn't hold water. Or does it? Williamson himself certainly thinks it does, writing an elegant article in which it holds water as much as the next pitcher or small jug. Of course, we should take his opinion with a grain of salt, or possibly even an entire shakerful, because naturally he would say that, wouldn't he? Yes he would, because he's the one who profits from the erroneous perception that he is any good at anything.

But then why do people go to his plays? Because they're idiots? Yes, and no, is the answer, or answers, to this question, or questions. While it's true that everyone who goes to the theatre is an idiot, it's also true that I don't know much about art, but I know what I like. And what people like is David Williamson, and if a play is entertaning, what more do you want? Nothing, that's what, and the whole reason you don't like the plays is SNOBBERY.

Snobbery is what people do when they are scared to like popular things because they won't feel special. But what I would say to them is, you're special just the way you are and you don't have to hate beloved playwrights to be it. Or alternatively, you're not special and never will be so shut up. Either way, stop doing snobbery at people, especially at David Williamson, who is trying to chronicle our times in a way that is accessible to the average theatregoer and also Bob Hawke.

If Williamson doesn't do it, who will chronicle our times? Mungo MacCallum? Don't make me laugh.



How long do we have to put up with cultural elites denigrating our icons, and non-elites denigrating the elites? It is a vicious circle, a snake eating its own tail, much like Williamson's new play, "Don's Snake Eats Its Own Tail", in which Don and his friends gather at his house to watch the telecast of the NSW state election in blackface.

Why does this play work? Because it is RELATABLE.

Why does it not work? Because every three minutes the entire cast sings the national anthem and scurries about the stage squeaking, which puts a crimp in the narrative.

But maybe Australians want crimps in their narrative, or perhaps not. Who can tell? Almost everyone, it is not difficult. That's the whole problem: thinking that complicated issues are quite beyond the grasp of the wider population, just because they are.

The point is, why don't we actually ASK theatregoers what they want from a play? Well, why would we? Theatregoers are stupid: they go to David Williamson plays. But maybe we are stupid for judging them. It's hard to tell, but maybe we could have a stab at it by going to see one of these plays for ourselves. We won't though, because we're not stupid. But that doesn't mean that liking David Williamson makes you stupid, it might be other way around or maybe a bit of both. One thing's for sure, the answer lies somewhere in the middle. Or to the left. It all depends which leg you put your trousers on with. As examined in Williamson's play Trousers, in which Andrew, a suburban lawyer, falls in love with a wild ape with hilarious consequences.

In a way Williamson's plays are a wild ape, and we are suburban lawyers, and Miranda Devine are hilarious consequences. But on the other hand, what about Barrie Kosky? What does he think? Perhaps this white lion can tell us:



But let's not pretend anyone has all the answers. Except Williamson, who has been in theatre for over 40 years and knows his way around an orchestra pit. But is an ability to read maps the only relevant criterion for a great playwright? Surely not. You also need a pen. Maybe it's Williamson's lack of a pen that has made him so bitter in Don Parties On, in which I am reliably informed there is a forty minute monologue on Viagra.

Still, it must be said that he puts bums on seats, an aggressive behaviour for which he should surely seek treatment, but cannot because he has no time due to his contractual obligation to write twenty nine plays every year and occasionally go on Q and A to show everyone his eyebrows. It is a busy life and he has no time to think about up-themselves wankers who only like plays if they have full frontal nudity and interpretive dance sequences about cowboys raping geese. Although do WE have time to deal with the delusions of an ageing halfwit scribbling down his random thoughts, sticking them to a piece of cardboard, dousing it in petrol, setting it alight and calling it a play? I don't know if this is what Williamson does, but I assume it is.

When it all comes down to it at the end of the day and all things considered in a broad sense, it is certainly true that Williamson's work, while popular, is preternaturally bad, while it is also true that nothing that is popular can be THAT bad, since people don't pay money for bad things except when they do, but then that is the exception that proves the rule, or in some cases, disproves, which only serves to emphasise the basic thrust of my crux.

So Williamson: Living Legend Of The Theatre, or Tired Old Hack With A Stupid Ugly Face? A bit of both, most of neither, and most of all, 110% of everything at once.

YOU DECIDE!!!!!!

An Historical ConunDrum

My latest weekly wrap at The ABC's The Drum is to be found here.

This is what "Darius the Mede" says about it:

for the first time in my life i agree with Miranda Devine; peurile is an apt description of Mr Pobjie's work.
Accusing Mr Garrett of being a murderer is not satire, it is slander but no doubt Mr Pobjie thinks the families of the insulation workers who have lost their lives find it hilarious.
Each day the ABC seems to find new lows in the quality of its on-line news and commentary

Well that's all very well Darius, but if I were an historical figure whose existence has been called into question by numerous reputable historians, I'd be more worried about getting my own house in order before throwing stones as the houses of others.

Also, how did a 6th-centruy BC king get access to the internet? Fibre to the node?

Also, why doesn't anyone know the difference between slander and libel? J. Jonah Jameson knows, why don't you, Darius the Mede?

In Case You Hadn't Heard

Yes, The Rue McClanahan Hour is no more. Due to a disagreement with Triple R management - we thought we weren't disgustingly offensive and irretrievably unfunny, and they disagreed - our radio show was canned after two episodes. We apologise, since we do know there were people who were actually enjoying our little stint Make sure you tune in to Triple R from February on in our timeslot, every Monday 7pm Eastern time, as the Lime Champions will be back, and that's a quality show.

I won't go into too much detail as to the details behind the canning, suffice to say there were irreconcilable differences.

BUT the Gather Around Me podcast starring Ben Pobjie and Cam Smith continues, and there is a brand-new one, in which the Triple R "Kerfuffle" (call-back) is discussed. Go to Gather Around Me both for downloads and hilarious bloggettes.

Do not listen if you don't like hearing the word "rape", or you have a soft spot for hypothetical cats.

Should you be craving even more of the squeezings of my brain, check out my first newmatilda article of the year, in which I tackle the important and delicious issue of whaling.

This is a wonderful read. As "scepticcritic" says:

How can you consider yourself any sort of authentic political satirist when you group ‘black people’ in a separate category from ‘humans"? If you can’t even respect the diversities within your own species I doubt you can do much for the whales.

And as you read the article, maybe you'll ponder that question. WHY?

Furthermore, there's my latest review of weekly doings for the ABC, in which are discussed koalas, farmers, starvation, sailing, Indians, earthquakes and zany Christians.

To get the man in the street's typical reaction to this piece, why not ask "david hicks":

There is a lot that is hugely distasteful about this article

You're a fine one to talk, David. Glass houses, my friend, glass houses.

Or consider the opinion of "Crepitus":

I think Miranda Devine sums up Ben Probjie when she calls him "puerile".(Click on Ben's CV)

Judging from his article, I would add "unfunny and irrelevant" but then I have never heard of Ben till now. He has some work to do if he wants to become relevant and be taken seriously as a comedian or satirist.

To scoff at the Haitian catastrophe is heartless. He had nothing worth while to say about the whaling issue on which he is biased anyway. Does he really want us to go to war with Japan over blubber? Sounds a bit like the War of Jenkins Ears.

OK, firstly, I can't really match wits with those who would agree with Miranda Devine. Intellectualism is not my god.

Secondly, what the sulphur-crested fuck is with people who don't like my articles being unable to spell my name. My name which is ON THE GODDAMN PAGE THEY ARE READING AT THE TIME THEY ARE COMMENTING. I mean, this isn't someone hearing my name and being unable to determine the correct spelling. This is someone who is incapable of directly copying down six letters in a row.

And why do people put an R in my name? I've never understood that? Do they assume I must actually have the terribly common everyday name "Probjie" that most people know and love?

Jesus.

Anyway, much as I have never belittled rape victims, Muslims or the mentally ill on the radio, I have never scoffed at the Haitian earthquake on the ABC website. Read closely and you'll notice this fact.

In fact, you don't even have to read that closely. Just don't be a cretin.

That aside though, I am pretty irrelevant and unfunny. Luckily I have a weekly appointment wherein I sexually gratify the entire ABC board in a disabled toilet in Box Hill, so my job there's pretty safe.

With newmatilda, it's mainly the high-grade heroin I mail to them that keeps on the site.

In summary: spell my fucking name right, for Christ's sake. It's really starting to piss me off.

And now, on a lighter note:




I'm a FATHER, guys. Don't you realise how much the criticism hurts my children?

Why am I in this business?

For the fans.

Feel free to invoice me for the time it takes you to read this blog post, although I should warn you I may bill you for the time I take to read your invoice.

What does it mean to be Australian

In case you ever wonder, you can refer to this at New Matilda. Happy Australia Day, all!

But I should warn you, according to one erudite commenter, "this sort of piece is not new as satire, and anyway it didn’t connect as such with this experienced reader (and sometimes writer) of satire. There was no bite and the comedy wasn’t comedic."

And who am I to argue with an experienced reader (and sometimes writer) of satire? Just quietly, I suspect this commenter is actually Kerry Cue.

Anyway, I am quite hurt that this experienced reader, once they had been informed that it was a joke, didn't like it. They apparently "crave originality and Swiftian wit", so I will put my best foot forward to provide it. Look out next week for my scathing attack on the Whig Party.