If you are worried that the cast of Karma Snort is going to get you up on stage and embarrass you – don’t be. The audience is only required to shout out words on command, so make sure you’ve got some decent words ready: ones that will inspire a good story because otherwise your evening might head down a track you wish it hadn’t …

The aim of the game is to provide the special guest with one word – vinegar? bromance? truancy? – and it is their job to use that word to tell a funny, personal, true or false story. The 12-or-so comedians on stage then re-enact the story, creating mini improvised skits, and tagging each other in and out anytime someone thinks of something brilliantly funny.

Now these are the rules. Whether or not everything goes to plan is another story and as our MC introduces himself: Eli Matthewson. He also provides a disclaimer: “Everything could turn to shit.”

Already jovial and immediately responsive, the crowd warms to the cast and chuckle at their obvious product promotion. A bottle of Karma Cola is shared between them as they introduce themselves – Guy Montgomery, Hamish Parkinson, Joseph Moore, Laura Daniel, Chris Parker, Tom Sainsbury, Eddy Dever, Brynley Stent, Alice Snedden, and Donna Brookbanks – and declare Karma Cola’s refreshing qualities. Except the last guy, who confesses that it now tastes like everyone else’s backwash.

At least it brings them all closer and if that doesn’t, there are plenty of other awkward scenarios that enforce intimate familiarity. Throwing inhibitions to the wind, they pout their lips like Kylie Jenner, behave like pigs rolling in poo and make love on top of a human Trojan Horse. All for the sake of making us laugh … And most of the time, it works! 

Special guest, Jacinda Ardern is lovely until some cheeky bugger in the crowd yells out “TEETH!” I cringe, hoping she isn’t offended but instead she seizes the word and ploughs on with her monologue. It turns out she’s been mistaken for the Colgate advertisement girl before and her campaign posters are being used by some Aussie Rules team to promote mouth guards. She admits to having worn one of those torturous orthodontic headgear things to bed and at her first school camp, she told her friend that if she didn’t wear it, her jaw would fall off! She finishes slyly by telling us she isn’t a liar – she is politician. I guess that makes her honest then. 

The cast plunges into her story, snapping into new imaginative scenes every 45 seconds. The plot is driven by their dialogue and physical interactions with invisible props. Some of their funniest moments came out of the cast breaking out of character and highlighting their own mistakes, or even better, when they stay in character and point out one another’s mistakes. It is self-reflexive, at once drawing you into the scene but making you realise it is simply that: a moment of make believe that is as easily crushed as it is formed or altered when words are even slightly mispronounced.

The second monologist, Oscar Kightley, has a hard time with the word “Swine Flu” (swine flu?! really? come on guys) and this flows into the improvisation set that follows. The cast, who are dependent upon each other’s ability to comprehend whatever crazy world someone has decided to delve into, are at best quick witted and responsive, but at times the plot does get out of hand, making it hard for the audience to follow.

I like how you never know when you are going to laugh next; it isn’t a well-timed comedy show; everything is unexpected and because there are so many people on stage – a sort of comedic buffet – eventually something is bound to hit your funny bone. If you want to do something a little different with a bunch of friends, have a few beverages or six and go along to this. It is remarkably well-priced for a live show, so go support your local comedians and give them some clever words to play with. 

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