Harry Stachini is an affable, relatable presence onstage; he begins with some light crowd work, teasing the brave souls on the front row. This sets the tone for his show, as he places an emphasis on the “emotional grenades” we all carry, using admirable storytelling skills to steer the show into his personal life and tales about his father’s obsession with his resting heartrate and stories about his time as a teaching assistant for children with behavioural difficulties. He has the ability to sweep you up into his tall tales and work in some seriously funny quips and asides.
His material and style do not feel all that fresh, however, and the emotional core of his show, slowly revealed, feels contrived. Attempting profundity based around letting out emotional steam is something that’s been done so many times that it takes a great deal of skill to do it in a way that feels fresh – Stachini doesn’t quite achieve this. He also tends to grasp for the low-hanging comedic fruit; he jokes at one point about being on all the dating apps, including Facebook Marketplace – a variation on a joke it feels like every other comedian tells – and at another he gives a detailed story about a prostate exam which essentially boils down to “look at this weird situation, isn’t that funny?”
However, Stachini has enough storytelling chops to make his show worth seeing, and a long aside about people taking their children to festivals and “magic glitter” is hilarious, and a tale about teaching a child who aspired to be a serial killer is peppered with wit and interesting observations. Stachini’s possesses such a skill for outlandish storytelling that it makes his erring on the side of the conventional and stale somewhat disappointing.
Harry Stachini: Grenade, 17:45, Underbelly, until August 26
https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/harry-stachini-grenade
