If you were allowed inside the head of comedian Becky Lucas, you’d find the scrawlings of a wallflower, her hilarious self-critiques written so hard on the inside of her skull they’ve indented her pretty face, leaked into her show and melted an audience’s heart.
Becky’s show ‘Baby’ is not at all innocent, helpless or whiny. In fact, if Brisbane’s comedy scene birthed more acts like hers we wouldn’t be known as a half-dressed hick town. We’d be a quirky 20-something in a cat-themed blouse, caught between the uncanny similarities of the girth of her linguini dinner and her pipe-dream penis.
Quirky girls and Italian fine-dining showcases Becky's range, but it’s not all ‘Baby’ grew up to be. This show will hit your soft spot, your hard spot and make you cringe a little.
Becky will leave you teased and cautious of any introvert and the thoughts they’ve kept exclusive to themselves.
In ‘Baby’s short life Becky steered it through a gauntlet of feminazis and femibuddhists, coitus with vehicles and coitus without vehicles, and child bearing with and without the birth.
‘Baby’ is Becky’s vessel for the weird truths you can’t share without a bottle of wine or ears tuned into her unique frequency. Her punchlines will land, conquer and assimilate what you thought was humour into her extraordinary nation.
You don’t have much time left to brag that you saw Becky Lucas before she was cool and a sell-out. Though the latter may be her goal, it’s the former you should be concerned with.
So hold Becky’s baby before it grows up and don’t be too worried if you drop it; it’ll make for a better show anyway.
Book your tickets and take part at the Brisbane Powerhouse’s Comedy Festival until 13 March.
