Welcome to the world of Lawrence Mooney, whose spontaneous Malcolm Turnbull impersonation has spawned a semi-dramatic change in comic career direction.
On Saturday the 27th of October, Lawrence Mooney appeared on stage at the Brisbane Powerhouse beneath the glittering rainbow-coloured Malcolm logo, to some fanfare, followed by an awkward mime to John Farnham’s You’re the Voice. To be oxymoronic, it was a bit of an anti-climactic introduction, although so was Turnbull’s prime ministership. The show also ends with a mime to Dragon’s April Sun In Cuba, which was similarly awkward.
Perhaps Mooney was too faithful to his subject, as the role of Malcolm seemed to restrain his charisma, despite the thoughtfulness of the jokes and Mooney’s impeccable timing. What the show lacked in energy it made up for with dark and crude humour that juxtaposed the prude demeanour of Mooney’s Malcolm. Perhaps too often Mooney relied on merely saying cuss words or referencing drug use while in character for a reaction, rather than a memorable jibe.
Unfair as it is to compare anyone to the great Barry Humphries, typically his shows would contain appearances from multiple characters. A whole show dedicated to one impersonation, of a relatively dry now former prime minister, could have become tiresome had the show continued any longer. However, the structure of the show was jazzed up by the interludes of a pretend ‘Malcolm Show’ - picture The Ellen DeGeneres Show but with more jobs and growth.
Mooney has donned the Malcolm persona for political purposes before, such as Sam Dastyari’s book launch, but there seems to be a healthy cap on that subject in this show, referencing more so the personality and personal life of Malcolm and his friends. Both Peter Dutton and Bill Shorten cop it regarding their bodily traits. Political discourse was saved for the ’commercial breaks’, which involved a dimming of the lights and sinister tales of Malcolm’s implication in a global conspiracy theory about Goldman Sachs, and a defamatory story about how he may have killed his ex-girlfriend’s cat.
Mal then snaps back into the show, and invites an audience member onto his lounge. Here Mooney gets to flex his improv muscle, and it is well-oiled. The female guest is more than up for it and calls her male partner a “piece of trash” and made a joke about his dead ex-wife. They probably had some stern words in the car home, if both managed to get in it.
An Evening with Malcolm Turnbull was a unique comedy experience, and whilst I admit it did not elicit a Guinness World Record number of belly laughs from me, I appreciated much of the material, like an intellectual brain tickle. Mooney’s rendition of Malcolm showed both a sinister and kooky side to the man who just wanted to be loved by everyone, but ended up hated by most. I found myself quite endeared to Malcolm afterwards - after all, he had made us a laugh.
It is also good to know that a popular comedian could tackle a parodic political role without resorting to moralising on divisive issues. We came for a laugh, and the mere fact the audience was interested in seeing a show about Malcolm Turnbull means we read enough to know what’s going on in Australia and the world, at least as much as Mooney. I heard not long ago a Robert De Niro acceptance speech that went “f*ck Trump”. He got a standing ovation. It’s that easy. The only classy thing about An Evening with Malcolm Turnbull is that I still don’t know who Mooney votes for.
Brisbane Powerhouse, Powerhouse Theatre
Saturday 27th October, 2018
Harry Rival Lee