Matt Okine

Matt Okine's artistic evolution over the past few years has been fascinating. The Indooroopilly native begins his final hometown show for the Brisbane Comedy Festival by talking about car parks. There's no initial mention of class, race, or gender inequality, just parking spaces. This might seem like a banal opening, but to call it shallow would be to miss the appeal of his deeply relatable style and the brilliantly orchestrated narrative arch that he's setting up.

His status as a public figure serves as both a blessing and a curse, working as a familiar springboard for the rest of the evening. Switching between railing against minor inconveniences and divulging carefully chosen details from his own life, he juxtaposes sincere introspection with painfully funny moments of retrospect and regret. It's a style of comedy that blurs the line between poetry and therapy, in which the performer crucifies themselves in an effort to relate to the sins of the many.

It's also however somewhat of a cleansing act, as he then finds himself in the enviable position of being able to address political issues without any hint of condescension. The subtle critiques of his own insecurities are transformed into a subversive critiques of the nation as a whole, as he finishes the night with a heavily politicised rap. Okine is still just as funny as he's always been, but he's also ready to try and change the world.