Ditch the Netflix stand-up specials and catch Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chamedian at Fringe 2018

 

Reviewed by Ryan Pepper

Performing to a packed audience, Melbourne’s Josh Glanc never missed a beat in his hilarious new stand-up/sketch comedy show Karma Karma Karma Karma Chamedian.

Glanc opens the show like all Netflix comedy specials seem to these days, with a big musical number and triumphant entrance to thunderous applause from the audience. He then dives into a rock cover as three audience members mime instruments behind them, air-performing to so much applause that it might as well have been a real rock concert. Or for that matter, a real Netflix special. One gets the impression that Glanc could have thrilled a packed house at Radio City as effortlessly as he did Arts Court Theatre.

Glanc presages the show by admitting that he’s new to stand up, so instead of trying out his own jokes, he’ll just perform someone else’s. His ploy works for a bit, until the track he’s lip-syncing too starts saying the wrong things. After that aborted attempt at stand-up, Glanc jumps into his hilarious sketches, each as funny as the last. Glanc combines props, funny one-liners and mime to make this one-man series of sketches just as hilarious as an ensemble TV show.

Sketches range from making smoothies to biking in the city to a mime who wants something real, but like all good comedy, his jokes come a mile a minute, and none ever fell flat. His biking sketch, for instance, combines physical comedy, as Glanc ludicrously mimes biking in full racing gear to a funky soundtrack. The sheer silliness of Glanc pretending to peddle was enough to draw huge laughs from the audience, but the real punchline came when it was revealed that Glanc’s character was himself miming biking in the middle of the street. In the next sketch, Glanc offers psychiatric counselling to a cat, set to a forlorn piano soundtrack. Funny by itself as a concept, the real laughter comes when the imaginary cats—just meowing sounds from the soundboard—begin hissing and clawing each other. Glanc also gives his take on the always-humorous “ad for a fake product” as a football player suffering from muscle pain, although this time he falls back on prop comedy, since his remedy include rubbing a dead fish all over his body. The absurdity of the moment was enough to have people doubling over in laughter.

For the full sixty minutes, Glanc’s jokes never fall short. His extended bit on the rise to superstardom of Aqua, the 90s Eurodance band, delivered from the perspective of member René Dif is uproarious. Glanc has a gift for embodying comedic characters. He rarely portrays himself on stage, but his characters are so funny that the crowd was often laughing well before the punchline.

Fringe is a great opportunity to see riotous comedy, and Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chamedian is one of the very best. Don’t bother with the new Netflix special—Josh Glanc is surpassing that. And you might even get to dance up on stage with him.