Dungeons and Comedians is something of a Christchurch cult hit. It has run as a popular live show since mid-2018, first at Orange Studio, in Ferrymead, and more recently at the pop up fringe theatre, Little Andromeda. As presented by a group of professional comedians and improvisers, it has a delightfully lo-fi aesthetic, which undermines the pomp and bombast of the fantastic setting – something rendered even more fragile and absurd by the restrictions of a grainy live stream. 

This adventure, led by the show’s creator and dungeon master Brendon Bennetts, features recurring characters from the show’s first, 18-month-long campaign, each playing from home.

We have the feline-humanoid rogue Trixie Abernathy (Aaron Jelley in a tiger onesie), very high High Elf wizard Elfonzo the Great (Kathleen Burns with a pointy hat, dark lippy, elbow gloves and a low cut top), and the show’s lead, the legendary hyper-masculine but sensitive human warrior Belt! (Emma Cusdin, gravelly voiced, wearing an oversized metal helmet). They are joined by regular player Ciarán Searle as Dave the Centaur, a minor character who appears in either a previous or a later episode, depending on how the trouser legs of time are working in this mid-campaign side quest.

This two-hour episode, ‘The Underdogs of the Underdark’, is the first in a series in which the group find themselves in their own form of lockdown. They are trapped in a dark hole, their necks shackled with explosive collars, then trotted out to act as a gladiatorial team in a rolling competition at the behest of their new ‘manager’, a fishman called Bluegill.

The adventure sets up a clear episodic arc: the team (named, threateningly, ‘Belt’s Buddies’) will need to prove themselves in combat in an arena that is like an absurdist Running Man / Hunger Games / Thunderdome hybrid against a variety of similarly ramshackle professional teams. Their first opponents are the menacing ‘Four Guys Who Are Good At Fighting (But Bad At Communication)’, and future teams promise to riff on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and various Winne the Pooh characters.

It’s pretty funny, and I find myself laughing properly out loud while topping up my shiraz – a benefit of watching at home.

Dungeons and Dragons as a lo-fi spectator sport lends itself well to a live stream, especially as the inevitable issues (volume problems, lag, cameras falling over) can be folded into the action, rather than acting as a limitation. I love it when the players embrace these constraints; for instance, Kathleen Burns uses her camera to dramatise point-of-view perspectives for the audience as she shoots enemies with her eldritch blast (that is, one of a ‘quarantine supply’ of party poppers).

As the adventure progresses, I become particularly interested (in a deeply nerdy dramaturgical way) in the relationships between performers and spectators, and how they are translating into this new, more atomised way of watching. One of the great pleasures of seeing this show live is the way that the performers play to the audience. It’s not interactive, per se, although there’s sometimes a bit of back and forth dialogue, but the spectators are a key part of the experience of the show for everyone involved.

In this case, the players can only see one another, while the audience are able to contribute to a live chat alongside the stream, and Brendon as DM and stream host is able to bridge that gap, passing on a limited amount of feedback. This means that the players are effectively playing for one another’s entertainment and pleasure, yet there is still the sense (for me at least) of this warm connection between the people on screen and the 70-odd people watching at home.

It might be that, for the regular audience member, there’s such a sense of familiarity with the characters that there’s effectively a parasocial bond that makes up for a lack of shared physical space. I am curious as to how the players found it without the immediate feedback loop of a laughing, cheering audience, and whether or not a new audience member would have had any connection with it at all.

This is the first stop in an ongoing adventure, which will play out over the next few weeks. I’m not entirely sure that it’s the best way to encounter this show for the first time (although sorting out some of the bugginess will help), but it’s funny and clever and comforting, and something that I’ll be returning to while I continue my solo adventure on the couch. 

See it here.

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