Luke Nowell really is a very naughty lad and during his show BEING HUEMAN BEING I really did threaten to tell his mother on him. There are many hi-jinx, you see, in his show and many of them require audience participation. Skilled gag-seeker, aaaart maker that he is, he knows a receptive face when he sees it. And the only reason I am not telling on him is that he is charming, very charming, and hilarious and cute as a button.
BEING HUEMAN BEING takes us to inner Luke. You can hear inner Luke on the audio track as he worries and frets, and is downright mean, while his physical counterpart plays his part. It’s about play, this show, and is created with advanced silliness and disturbingly accurate and honed physical comedy. There’s a frenetic mimetic underlay and a warm love of stream of conscious mucking around here.
It’s enormous messy fun. You will step over the detritus of comedy chaos as you leave. Enquiring minds wonder, did his mother never make him clean his room?
And the show is very, very cleverly put together. Nowell has running gags, “I don’t … no.. I lied!” a novel assortment of accoutrement, including a vast array of moustaches, seemingly bottomless pockets and suitcase of props and gags that infiltrate themselves into the mayhem. And a bit with a banana! The audio is deceptively simple and easy to enjoy with the detail gracefully inserted, like the bird chorus in the theme from Romeo and Juliet.
The improvisational, audience responsive elements evidence a master clown at work. The audience lean in and many of them just can’t help themselves, interjecting to offer advice and call Nowell’s attention. Hands gasp to mouths in a ‘what-have-I-done’ O because this is a playmaker with a gentle comedy arsenal for all eventuality and he will follow you all the way to the punchline.
Nowell’s BEING HUEMAN BEING is an antidote for what ails you in a laugh filled, highly engaging, anarchic 50 minutes. Sadly, he has now completed a short season here in Sydney for the Comedy Festival, but you can follow Nowell on Facebook to see where he lands next and hopefully catch him on a return visit. But be warned, his brand of fun is spectaculary addictive nonsense.
That’s the other reason I am not dobbing on him to Mrs Nowell, despite the fact that the little bugger dared me? Oh and … he has a decidedly lithe, limber leglock which he uses to make aaaart if you try and leave. Being sweet talked into giving him a flowery, daisy-face peck on the cheek is as much as I wish to participate in BEING HUEMAN BEING. Next time, I will try and blend in.