‘Life Begins’ with Riaad’s gift for mimicry
CLEARLY there is something about turning 40 that brings out the need in a comedian to mark the event with a show: hot on the heels of Nic Rabinowitz’s Forty-fied comes Riaad Moosa’s Life Begins…
Both shows involve a degree of introspection and philosophy (albeit in a comic vein), but they are very different.
Moosa’s has the advantage of additional variety with the introduction of two other voices, and with them, two other brands of comedy – and neither has anything to do with completing the fourth decade of one’s life. The downside of these inclusions is that they prolong an already lengthy show, so that by the time Moosa has ended his monologue, the audience is more than ready to leave the theatre.
Nkondo offers his listeners a wry and lively cameo of what it feels like to be the only black person attending a beach party at Clifton, in a sketch full of self-mockery which softens the implicit criticism of a racially divided society. Mokgadi, cherubic of face and plump as a Valentine’s Day teddy bear, has the audience in stitches with his remarks on the protocol of using Doom as an agent of healing, among other topics. A deadpan expression sharpens the bite of his script.
Then comes the main item on the evening’s agenda as Moosa steps up to the microphone. From the outset it becomes clear that his chief reaction to life at 40 is irritation, a word that recurs at regular intervals throughout his address to the audience. The main culprit when it comes to identifying this pervasive annoyance seems to be life in general, augmented by the tribulations of family life – all of which leaves the field wide open for his satirical range.
This extends from his personal life as comedian, doctor, husband and father of three, to the new world order ushered in by Brexit and Trump, South Africa’s woes with State Capture, Doom-wielding pastors and #FeesMustFall… the list is endless.
There are no costume changes or props to assist him in entertaining the audience, but he has one tool which proves potent: his gift for mimicry.
Most stand-up comedians are able to muster creditable imitations of the speech and accent of those they pillory, but Moosa excels in this department, reaching new heights with his impersonation of Trump (not an easy one to reproduce, but the timbre and accent are perfect) – and the resemblance borne by America’s new President to a goldfish is seized upon with glee. Inevitably there are some side-swipes at our very own no 1 Citizen as well.
In view of the two extra acts, Moosa would be well advised to edit his own performance to give it more structure and brevity. As it is, its impact is diminished by a tendency to ramble so that however amusing its presentation and pertinent its content, it seems inordinately long.