The Chieng Reaction

The Chieng Reaction
Ronny Chieng. Brisbane Comedy Festival. Visy Theatre, The Powerhouse. 18 – 23 March 2014

Early Thursday evening. No parking spots within a kilometre of the venue. Last week of festival that has taken over New Farm peninsula.

Tonight it’s Ronny Chieng for me, one of a dozen acts. I park badly, on an angle between two cars because the space is too small for even my Getz. Visy is almost packed with comedy aficionados, waiting, anticipating. Raucous introduction. Ronny Chieng takes over the empty stage.           

Physically solid, chunky, with a broad square smile, he begins to lambaste us with his observations. He never lets us forget he was born into a rich Malaysian family, went to a prominent law school in America, despises the miserable – albeit affluent  ̶  existence of his law-school compatriots. His parents keep asking when he’ll get a decent job. We understand.

He gives the impression this is a new show not quite there yet, refers frequently to a hip-pocket cue sheet, sips water, continues to shower us with the f*** word (without which his act would be much shorter), and moves on to sexism, man’s delicate balancing act to get things right these days, aggressive feminism, seat belts (? Yes, seat belts!), reaching 28 and finally being able to look down on 24 year-olds.

Our sides are aching, when suddenly he wraps up, ten minutes short of his gig time. No one seems to care. I dash to find my car still intact and smile all the way home.

Jay McKee

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