There are many ways to rebel.
You could pick up a motorbike and ride into the sunset. You could form an alliance against an empire that blew up a planet. Or, in a sea of chaotic comedians, produce the most polished, expertly crafted hour of comedy you’ve ever done.
Lesa MacLeod-Whiting‘s latest show, Rebellina, is a breakneck hour of comedy that whizzes by like a bullet train on steroids. Structured simply but effectively, MacLeod-Whiting takes us on a tour of trying to be a rebel, understanding what rebellion means to her, and how she can (hopefully) impress this upon her daughter.
One minute in, the audience is already laughing uncontrollably. MacLeod-Whiting is revelling in this as she holds her performance so the audience has a chance to get the giggles out of their systems. It’s silence from her for a few seconds. Why would she need to say anything when the crowd is doing a perfectly good job of filling the air themselves? It’s in these moments we realise what a mistress of her craft she is. She barely has to give a cheeky smile to get the audience on her side. We are completely enraptured.
And MacLeod-Whiting knows it.
She’s so comfortable dipping out of a joke temporarily to address an odd laugh, a familiar face, or a political adversary. She builds a rapport with her audience that would be the envy of any comedian, including many of those in the crowd. Her aura is untouchable. She has an effortlessly comfortable vibe on-stage, and extends that comfort back to us. We’re in safe hands. It’s giving mother.
Her pace is relentless, but it’s never confusing, nor too quick for us to hang onto. She’s more than happy to make a wildly obscure reference, take stock of the reaction, and unload an encyclopaedic extract of whatever Italian artist-cum-murderer she’s talking about. The result is a show that rebels against time itself, making an hour feel like five minutes. MacLeod-Whiting has somehow found a way to bend time. This show is so funny, I don’t remember how I got home.
It may sound like I’m just firing praise bullet after praise bullet here, but it’s genuinely so hard to articulate exactly what makes this show so good. It’s not a flashy show with big set pieces, it doesn’t need to be. It’s a highly-competent wāhine with a microphone delivering perfectly polished material. The only creases are the ones in the banner behind her. And not to spoil any of the material, but there’s a constant stream of surprises and callbacks that give the show a sense of perfect cohesion.
Rebellina is, in essence, a complete success. MacLeod-Whiting lays out her goals clearly, and knocks each and every one of them out of the park at such a fast tempo that it’s over before you even think to look at your watch. It’s a polished gem of a show that refuses to be anything but funny at all times, with a performer who’s in total control.
And now that it’s over, I’m bored now. Fair enough.
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.