Last week, when Kade Nightingale and Jeremy Rolston opened their few minutes in The Next Big Thing, they put me right off with a juvenile ‘gag’ about pooing in the shower. This time they alienate me even more with an astonishingly lame “traditional welcome” involving an actual taiaha badly handled, and meaningless pseudo action song movements to a recording of ‘Poi E’, topped off with “Tin of cocoa, tin of cocoa …” 

Where do they think we are: in a primary school playground? Apart from mindlessly trivialising tikanga Māori and misappropriating The Patea Māori Club’s brilliance, they insult the intelligence of their audience – none of whom laugh at this embarrassing travesty, despite a strong contingent of opening night supporters.

Oh, and the obligatory poo joke – “butt-mud” – follows soon after, amid their “helpful party tips”.

The video sequence of their preparing for last night’s party might have been very amusing – actually it is, quite – but by now I am looking for signs of it being a vacuous dig at gays and cross-dressers. I have no faith in their judgement.

They do have talents. Kade is an extremely good mover, whether he’s making like a spider or dancing with excellent support from Jeremy. Jeremy’s card tricks are happily mystifying and would be more so if other aspects of their show were so engaging we didn’t have time think back over how they happened. 

There is a structural through-line about a lost cellphone which dangerously relies on a randomly selected audience member to deliver the pay-off. But they are also quite good at enrolling audience participation not least because they are affable lads.

It’s probably a truism that some degree of maturity and wisdom born of life experience is a prerequisite for insightful comedy. Conversely it’s a mark of immaturity and inexperience to think meandering conversations that seem to have little purpose let alone a punchline will be of interest to a paying audience. Sadly the latter is more the case with Kade and Jeremy.  

If they want to crack it in comedy they need to get out of whatever cocoon has been protecting them from the real world, live a little, grow up and wise up. Meanwhile maybe a writer and director would help them play to their performance strengths.

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Shows with small houses can be hard to watch, especially in comedy. When performers fail to land laughs where they think they should, their self-consciousness can create a downward spiral, and this vicious cycle tugs us spectators into a vortex of painful awkwardness.

It’s a testament to Kade Nightingale and Jeremy Rolston that none of the above happened tonight.

Their circumstances aren’t ideal: two new comedians on the Wellington scene, in their second ever duo show, virtually unknown in Auckland and presenting their work here for the first time. I’m there the night after opening; the ‘crowd’ is heavy on Festival employees and the individual audience participation is frequent enough that I’m maybe the only one not to be picked on – the pen and paper must be a talisman against that.

But the audience participation is one of many aspects of the show that I can compliment. For such young performers (early 20s, if I had to guess), they prod yet keep comfortable a wide variety of punters with an ease and respect that more experienced pros often lack. 

There’s not a great deal in the way of plot; there’s a loose structure involving a night at a party and the quest for a misplaced phone the following day. They hang a whole bunch of sketch, video and presentation segments on the idea of a party: tips for enjoying yourself, interactions with the opposite sex, general surreal confusion about the nature of memory, and one daringly graphic selfie slideshow of preparing for a big night out. 

That’s not the only thing not for the squeamish: Kade and Jeremy break down our defences at the very top of the show with… well… the manipulation of objects and their faces. There are occasional gags about racism and domestic violence which do get acknowledged for what they are, but stand out as jarring, given that the rest of the content is pretty happy-go-lucky. 

A big element of the whole presentation is magic: card tricks and object work show Jeremy Rolston’s skills in particular, wowing the audience participants in the process. It’s not elaborate or flashy, instead his deftly understated but obvious skill suits the cosy venue.

Kade Nightingale’s physicality is something to behold: this excited, clean-cut, tall, gangly guy has energy to burn, but also no small amount of dance finesse to focus it. And there’s no way I’m not mentioning that, around the two-thirds mark, there is one of the most elaborate and original pun setups I’ve witnessed in a long time. I’ms still laughing at the memory ten minutes later.

As mentioned above, the structure is pretty loose. Don’t Panic is, admittedly, little more than a smooshing-together of a whole bunch of elements Kade and Jeremy find funny and/or want to show off. But it’s not like I mind – it’s working for them for now. Apart from a couple of clunking non sequiturs, their flow is just fine, and the two of them don’t outstay their welcome.

Given their receptive and open vibe, these guys will have no problems with crowds numbering from 2 to 2,000. Don’t Panic is an hour of tempered silliness with inherent glee that is nothing if not infectious. It might not be stand-out remarkable, but it’s a joyful experience for audience and performers alike.

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