Pierre Novellie's 'You Sit There, I'll Stand Here' Review - A Comedy of Relatable Proportions
Comedian Pierre Novellie acknowledges that with our increasingly isolated lives, reference points have dwindled, making it tougher for observational comedians to land a punchline. However, he doesn't entirely convince with his premise, as two staple topics – middle age and suburban life – are tackled in the opening act. Novellie's cleverness is undeniable, but his show stumbles upon familiar tropes reminiscent of thirtysomething standup.
Novellie's one-liners often shine like diamonds ("I played rugby at school the same way that horses fought in the war"), yet his performance feels conventionally formal and his delivery slightly stiff. Early on, this led to a fleeting impression that he might be better as a writer than a performer. But a resurgent second half – bolstered by exceptional routines – shattered my skepticism.
A standout section revolves around Novellie's awkward experience with airport attire, including an amusing aside about Winnie the Pooh's fashion sense. However, this is soon eclipsed by another masterclass of 'extensio ad absurdum,' applied to his epic struggle with Melbourne hotel cleaners over their eco-friendly laundry policy.
The show concludes with a laugh-out-loud shaggy dog story about Novellie's house move, which finds him lugging six tote bags of beef across London. While not as expansive as other comedians – like Rhod Gilbert or Ian Smith – whose work this shares similarities with, there are glimpses that his crusty-colonel persona may be more nuanced than initially meets the eye.
That becomes particularly evident in a cringe-worthy interaction with removal men, where Novellie wears a wretched thousand-yard stare, echoing "I'm not the man they left behind." This moment suggests that despite an occasionally narrow range of expression, his comedic voice remains potent. As observational comedy continues to evolve, it's clear that there is still life in this old dog yet.
Comedian Pierre Novellie acknowledges that with our increasingly isolated lives, reference points have dwindled, making it tougher for observational comedians to land a punchline. However, he doesn't entirely convince with his premise, as two staple topics – middle age and suburban life – are tackled in the opening act. Novellie's cleverness is undeniable, but his show stumbles upon familiar tropes reminiscent of thirtysomething standup.
Novellie's one-liners often shine like diamonds ("I played rugby at school the same way that horses fought in the war"), yet his performance feels conventionally formal and his delivery slightly stiff. Early on, this led to a fleeting impression that he might be better as a writer than a performer. But a resurgent second half – bolstered by exceptional routines – shattered my skepticism.
A standout section revolves around Novellie's awkward experience with airport attire, including an amusing aside about Winnie the Pooh's fashion sense. However, this is soon eclipsed by another masterclass of 'extensio ad absurdum,' applied to his epic struggle with Melbourne hotel cleaners over their eco-friendly laundry policy.
The show concludes with a laugh-out-loud shaggy dog story about Novellie's house move, which finds him lugging six tote bags of beef across London. While not as expansive as other comedians – like Rhod Gilbert or Ian Smith – whose work this shares similarities with, there are glimpses that his crusty-colonel persona may be more nuanced than initially meets the eye.
That becomes particularly evident in a cringe-worthy interaction with removal men, where Novellie wears a wretched thousand-yard stare, echoing "I'm not the man they left behind." This moment suggests that despite an occasionally narrow range of expression, his comedic voice remains potent. As observational comedy continues to evolve, it's clear that there is still life in this old dog yet.