Jeromaia Detto wants you to play with him. Or, at least unlock your inner child is buried away, by embracing the silliness of the show. The problem is, neither me nor my inner child, are amused by this contemporary clown.
I’m unsure if there is a potential gas leak above Underbelly but something is in the air of Detto’s show. His various characters and actions are the entertainment equivalent of playing peekaboo with a baby, yet grown women are scream laughing the room down at him flashing his nipple from time to time, I can’t comprehend it.
There’s every possibility that I’m a Scrooge who is unable to let her inner child out to enjoy the bubbles and beach balls, but there are only so many times I can pretend to play an imaginary trumpet, my limit is two.
One slightly redeemable act came from Detto dressed as an Italian rancher who professes his love for each audience member by making a play on words out of each of our names. He starts strong, but slowly the grip is lost and so is my mind.
I understand what Detto is trying to achieve through this show, by spreading joy and whatnot, but this may be a swing and a miss. The skits sometimes possess an interesting premise, but if the highlight is from the loud Australian girl whose laugh kept stealing the show, then it can’t be a good sign.
Jeromaia Detto: MUSH, Underbelly Cowgate – Iron Belly, 17:10, Aug 22-25
