ASK SARANYA How Not To Be A F*ckwit
IVY BAR, 49 Cuba St, Te Aro, Wellington
26/04/2016 - 30/04/2016
NZ International Comedy Festival 2016
Production Details
What do you do when you couldn’t care less but people keep expecting you to? Build a self-help empire, of course.
Anya Rzhevitskaya and Saran Goldie-Anderson have plenty of terrible ideas and none of the answers, but since people just won’t stop asking, they’re ready to solve anything you like – for a price.
Dark, clever stand-up comedy with a deceptively sweet musical chaser, this is what happens when the agony aunt is done with your shit, and that shoulder to cry on is ready to charge.
Wellington Shows
Ivy Bar & Cabaret
Tue 26 – Sat 30 April 2016
7:00pm
TICKET PRICES
Full Price: $18.00
Concession: $12.00
Group 6+: $12.00
Cheap Wednesday: $14.40
*service fee may apply
BUY TICKETS
The Friday 29 April, 7pm show in Wellington will be interpreted into NZ Sign Language for the Deaf community.
Theatre , Comedy ,
1 hr
Clear, simple advice only a f*ckwit would ignore
Review by Dianne Tennent 29th Apr 2016
The punk rock of comedy – Saranya (Anya Rzhevitskaya and Saran Goldie-Anderson) – combine forces to reveal the f*ckwit in all of us.
The show opens with a theme song to get the party started, showcasing the pair’s newly founded life coaching business. The innocent, playful mood of the ukulele comically juxtaposes the crass and unapologetic nature of their material. Saranya invite us to give them all our money to find the answer to the elusive question: how do we not act like f*ckwits?
Following this, the two take the stage in multiple turns, using convincing segues to give the show the feel of a genuine conversation and a sense of cohesion.
Anya is up first, owning up to her lower-than-average singing ability and intention to continue doing so despite her boyfriend’s advice to the contrary. Anya is unapologetically Russian, but with a few “chur bro”s and “yeah nah”s has cracked the code for obtaining NZ residency. We are given an insight into her family life – affirming our latent stereotypes involving mail order brides, vodka and pet bears. The casual darkness of Anya’s comic sensibility reflects the barren, icy nature of the Russian landscape.
Saran is up next with a fairy-tale-quality love song that is anything but romantic. Again, the mood of the music creates a sense of irony as Saran sings to us of a preoccupation with fantasies of dinosaurs, dolphins or literally nothing at all. Saran wants to know why men on Facebook are baffled at the audacity of someone politely turning down their prized genitalia. Conclusion? Men are f*ckwits.
Anya follows this with a matter-of-fact induction to her irreverent sexual escapades. Her boyfriend wants her to let him chase her so she takes a restraining order. Following an accident, having lost his short-term memory, she takes the opportunity to practise her improvisational skills. It’s all about making the best of a tough situation.
Saran then politely informs us of what it means to be a non-binary trans person, followed by a polite admonition to those who insist on making it their business. This is nicely concluded with a heartfelt love song dedicated to Saran’s long-time partner – the humble opiate painkiller.
With a keen sense of situational irony, Anya wraps up by relating to us her proudest moment: getting stinky revenge on a flatmate who accused her of having anger issues. Saran closes the show with a holistic approach to mental and physical well-being involving chocolate, wine and a cunning way to work out those empty calories.
In summation, the two clearly chart a few of our favourite politicians on the f*ckwit graph and leave us with some clear, simple advice. And if you don’t like it, well, that’s just too f*cking bad.
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