Gather ‘round people, for the congregation of the sordid is now in session. The town of Little Mercy is on the verge of damnation, and only the good Reverend Martin Dunlop can cleanse the people of their wicked, wicked ways. Head on down to the Church Of The Southern Gothic, my friends, Small Tales Of Little Mercy shall save ye.
Dunlop’s expert characterisation carries the show with flights of fancy, horror and downright weirdness. From the Reverend raconteur who seams the vignettes together, to the spruiking southerners who pop up to sell their wares throughout, each character is a balanced blend of recognisable and inexplicable personalities. The comic has pushed himself further than ever this year, cramming the show not just with a slew of personas, but a huge level of era-appropriate dialogue as well. As a result, Dunlop loses his place a couple of times throughout the proceedings, but the performer manages to always stay in character as he curses his own writing and requests a feed line from his tech. It’s unfortunate to see someone as talented as Dunlop have to struggle with their own creation, but the comic still delivers the laughs in these moments of accidental deviation.
Small Tales Of Little Mercy is as clever as it is ambitious, with Dunlop nailing the nuances of such niche subject matter. The comedian also injects the performance with an air of obscurity, with sudden appearances from trampolines, jelly beans, and a submarine somehow ending up in landlocked Arkansas. Dunlop is able to ride his train of randomness even when the track comes loose, and regardless of what happens on stage, he’s always a delight to watch.
