SALOM'S LOT: BALLBEARING

The accusation “Were you born in a tent” ? is an Australian colloquialism that is critical of another for having left the door to a room ajar. It is entirely appropriate then that Joel Salom’s contribution to the 2011 Melbourne International Comedy Festival should also take place in a tent. The Deluxe, Riverside Terrace, is a nomadic venue situated behind the ostentatious hustle of Federation Square. Salom appears on stage dressed in a neat pinstriped suit. His appearance is reminiscent of a rejected member of The Wiggles who has since developed an inferiority complex. His spiel begins with some gentle one-liners that encapsulate his experience of growing up on an isolated farm. Dad was silent but deadly. Mum was a frustrated tyrant. His older brother treated him like a dog... Conventional stand-up that elicits the odd awkward giggle from some while others are immediately considering whether to make a break for the door. But this desire to escape the unmitigated pain associated with experiencing a comic die in the arse is symptomatic of Salom’s approach to comedy. Unlike so many other so-called comedians Salom leaves the door open. Consequently, once he inserts a duo of ping pong balls into the space between his gums and cheeks, Salom’s Lot becomes a disturbingly funny expression of multiples. 

Resembling Don Vito Corleone from The Godfather while impersonating a dickhead in attendance at an Appalachian backcountry ball, Salom teeters on stage in Frankenstinian pose. Actually, he is impersonating his mother. But the inspiration for his loitering is less Boris Karloff and more Harpo Marx. Having captured the attention of his audience Salom then skillfully channels the rhythm of his show back into anecdote. But not before he gargles the same ping pong balls by blowing one after the other out of his mouth and into the air. Once aware that Salom’s hokey anecdotes are also simple prompts for the physical manifestation of an outrageous imagination, his audience relaxes. This transformation of the audience-performer relationship is critical to the eventual success of all live performance. Mysterious, unpredictable and intangible, in layperson’s terms Salom has initiated a situation where the audience might soon be eating out of the palm of his hand. 

His strategy of using mildly humorous anecdotes to inspire interplanetary actions is fully realised by the appearance on stage of Erik the Dog. (Salom himself has disappeared behind a curtain. But Erik’s perverse wit is also that belonging to its concealed master). Erik is a robot; one not unlike that seen at a contemporary Japanese trade fair emphasising innovation in the area of artificial intelligence. He inhabits the entire stage and protects his territory just like an actual dog. The difference being that what is normally a raucous and unintelligible bark is instead translated into the cynical slobbering of one demented puppy. His ‘bite you on the arse while you’re not looking’ commentary canvases a diversity of situations. The audience get a spray, while Erik is also quite prepared to cock his leg and accurately deliver a caustic stream of criticism aimed directly at his creator. But it is when Erik turns to leave that Salom cleverly re-inserts his central motif’ back into this performance. Here, Salom’s ‘balls’ are instead positioned between Erik the dog’s legs and right beneath his arsehole. The arrogant testicles of a robotic dog should not dangle as if they belong to an amorous, all conquering Beagle. It is one of the more lewd and ludicrous exits off-stage experienced in quite some time.

What distinguishes Salom’s Lot from conventional stand-up comedy is an open mind and genuine theatrical skill. A member of the audience is persuaded to participate in the eccentricities. He’s a hard working Colombian guy who struggles with the English language. Salom induces from this man a sequence of random platitudes then makes an off the cuff joke about Colombian cocaine. But he also samples the vocal responses of the willing participant. Distorting the man’s voice in different ways he replays the now altered voice back to the audience. This good natured ridicule of the Colombian guy is taken in its stride but Salom’s excursion into technological potential does not end here. Instead, he wraps himself in a type of sensor suit that is haptically activated (by touch...) and positions himself before a laser beam. What ensues can only be described as the integration of expert juggling skills and sampled gangster rap into a weird virtual dance. Watching Salom pat his attached sensors in order to activate his sampled responses, while simultaneously juggling pins and balls in accord with this dance and its overall rhythm, is to also reflect upon him rehearsing this strange bricolage. That is, in any other context apart from the performing arts Salom would be forcibly detained and institutionalised. It is not quite a moment of comic virtuosity, but pretty close. Joel Salom’s Salom’s Lot is a surprising and unpredictable show that transpositions conventional comedic genre and makes you laugh out loud. It is also the type of show that assists in revitalising an ailing Melbourne International Comedy Festival that is too reliant upon the smart-arse one-liner.

Joel Salom - Salom’s Lot

The Deluxe, Riverside Terrace

Melbourne International Comedy Festival

March 31 - April 24