Last night I went to see Rod Quantock’s show Peak-A-Boo at the Melbourne Comedy Festival.
It made me feel some things and I wanted to write those things down.
Rod has been doing stand up comedy for 46 years. 46 motherfucking years. It’s quite hard for me to imagine that or get my head around that or appreciate what it means. For almost twice as long as I have been alive, Rod has been onstage, telling jokes. He has been pioneering the art of stand up comedy in this country, mastering everything from socially-conscious, razor-sharp political satire to anarchic, joyously stupid dickheadedry like taking a bus full of strangers into random buildings and situations whilst holding a rubber chicken on a stick.
The term “Australian comedy legend” is bandied about pretty regularly these days, but I think there’s no questioning Rod’s right to claim such a title.
With that history in mind, you become overwhelmed with awe whilst watching Rod work. It’s just awesome that this man in his mid-60s is still doing this, that he still gives a shit, that he’s still really, really funny and so steadfastly, charmingly passionate about what he believes in.
Political comedy is sometimes dismissed as too easy, too earnest, too impotent. And it most certainly can be those things. Rod doesn’t give us any real solutions to the issues he raises and bemoans; he doesn’t have to. Perhaps there simply aren’t any good, realistic solutions out there.
But sometimes I think it’s enough for a piece of art to just stand up, shake a fist at the cruel winds of the world and bellow, “Not like this! NOT LIKE THIS!”
Perhaps that’s the most we can expect from silly shows with silly little jokes.
I’m still glad they’re here.
Peak-A-Boo was not the funniest show I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t the slickest or the most tightly structured show I’ve ever seen. It has been reviewed pretty well and may or may not be nominated for an award. But I don’t think any of that really matters. Because this man has been doing this shit for 46 motherfucking years.
Rod Quantock reminds me that no decent comedian’s career can be put down to one show or one review or one award or one job. He reminds me that it is a lifetime commitment. He reminds me that the best thing about this craft is that there are no rules. He reminds me that all people should be welcomed into a comedy audience. He reminds me that silliness has value.
And he inspires me to (every now and again) use my jokes to talk about things that I think are important.
In the heady, self esteem-shaking circus that is the comedy festival, where perspective is lost and meaning desperately sought, it was very nice indeed to have those things rammed home for me.
So thank you very much for that, Mr. Quantock.
Happy Festival, everyone.
You can buy tickets to Rod’s show here.