Ayo, fuck cancer, all my homies hate cancer.

Jo Prendergast is back with her one-hour special Cancer and Cartwheels, a show that’s part-stand-up, part-musical, and part-PSA. Her material is largely focused on her recovery from cancer (spoilers: she survived), and about how the changes it wrought upon her body have affected her day-to-day life.

Prendergast‘s performance appears to be split into three very distinct styles. The most telegraphed of these is ‘Story Mode’, where she’ll generally present some sort of prop and give us a spiel about what it means to her. There’s always a bit of a musical sting to drop us in and out of the vibe, and when we’re in it, Prendergast holds us in an ethereal trance that breeds comfort and warmth.

Secondly, we have TED Talk Mode, which begets a more traditional stand-up comedy flair. The jokes are methodical, planned, and cleverly designed to disarm the audience at just the right time before grounding us back in the topic’s seriousness. These are the moments that hit the audience the hardest. One second, they’re chuckling along to a quip about mismatching boobs, the next, they’re reconsidering how we treat body image issues in relation to cancer. It’s a really delicate balancing act that never veers strongly in either direction. Balance is kept. Unlike some body parts.

The strongest element, in my opinion, is Character Mode, where Prendergast whips out her acting chops and takes over as characters who act out the bizarre dimensions within her mind. Or rather, the characters seem to take over Jo herself. They contort her body into hilarious caricatures to the point where the audience is completely sold on Jo as a sociopathic girlboss, a bratty punk, and a ditzy it girl – all in the same scene. She bounces between them effortlessly and delivers again and again.

These three ‘modes’ come together to form a fun, varied show where you’re always looking forward to the next switch-up. Some of the transitions are smooth, some are clunky, which ultimately lends itself well to the theme of mismatching throughout the show, and endears her to the older crowd at Te Auaha.

At its core, Cancer and Cartwheels is a multi-generational call to action. A plea for its audience to check themselves for the Big C regularly. It’s a show that makes you think about how we see recovery as a society, and a warning that it could happen to any of us. But it doesn’t have to. Prendergast‘s emphasis on her survival and success leaves us hopeful for a new age of how we perceive cancer, and those affected by it.

So check your boobs and balls.

Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington performing arts community, I may be quite familiar with a number of the performers in this show. Having said that, I am not a liar, and there is zero bias in my reviews, shut up.

Also, tickets were provided to me for free by the production. Literally changes nothing, though.