Richard Gadd: Monkey See Monkey

When you purchase a ticket to go see a Melbourne International Comedy Festival show, chances are what you're looking for is some laughter. Well, don't expect to laugh out loud during this one. And if you do, you'll probably feel bad for having done so once Richard Gadd gets off his treadmill (from which he performs this entire show) and explains he's acutely aware that it was a stretch to submit an Overseas Artist Expression Of Interest to MICF for his autobiographical show Monkey See Monkey Do. Surely for a show of this nature, a theatre or fringe festival would be a better fit?

Gadd's a comedian, but Monkey See Monkey Do is an attempt to publicly come to terms with a horrific incident that changed him forever. A type of therapy, if you like, the show includes audio from actual sessions during which Gadd opens up to his psychologist about that fateful night (and trust us, what went down was horrific in the extreme). Gadd's recorded voice acts as a running commentary reflecting his inner turmoil while he runs on a treadmill at the front of the performance space, stage left. His unstable thought processes sabotage attempts at small talk and basic human interaction as he exercises fanatically, attempting to shape-up his rapidly declining mental health. This performer's elastic expressions as he reacts to the voiceover occasionally make people laugh. But these experiences reflect his own life experiences, so painfully real. Hearing scattered laughter is unsettling, but perhaps audience members feel compelled or even obligated to laugh because this, after all, is billed as a comedy show, right?

Would you listen to a friend telling their own story of nonconsensual sex or being taken advantage of while wasted, and think it was 'funny'? Is trivialising trauma such as this some form of coping mechanism? Should this kind of subject matter ever be joked about? That probably depends on your own personal history and whether you've fallen victim to, or instigated, similar circumstances to those described by Gadd in Monkey See Monkey Do.

At the show's conclusion, Gadd asks for a show of hands to determine how many in attendance researched his show before rocking up tonight. Only about five hands are raised. He admits to seeing "a few shocked faces" in the house. Gadd then tells us there are pamphlets on some of the seats towards the back of this venue for those who may have experienced something similar and now wish to seek help after watching his show. Without doubt, this show is an act of bravery and Gadd obviously doesn't intend to cause any harm, but Monkey See Monkey Do could well be an unwelcome intervention for some. What if someone sitting among us is trying to deal with recent trauma in their own way? Perhaps they came to a comedy show seeking temporary relief from their own 'monkey'? Could this show dislodge repressed memories? Is it ethically defensible to present a show of this nature without prior disclosure of its potentially triggering content?

He seems like a super-sweet guy and we're glad the 'monkey', that's been haunting Gadd since the incident, loosens its grip on him with each performance. But this is definitely not what we signed up for. This show took out the Edinburgh Comedy Award for Best Comedy Show last year but, while undeniably courageous and important, it's far from funny. There seems to be some kind of comedy festival trend developing whereby comedians feel that it's important to splice some kind of distressing backstory or serious content into their material to add substance and gravitas. Make it stop and just bring back the funny, already!

Richard Gadd presents Monkey See Monkey Do till 23 Apr at ACMI, part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.