Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
Pushing the last frontier – for a laugh and healing
JOHN Vlismas is well known for pushing boundaries and broaching taboo subjects in his comedy – it’s what has made the 45-year-old comedian stand out from his counterparts.
In his many years on stage, Vlismas has tackled prejudice, race, racism, and religion. But there is one particular topic that the award-winning comedian has avoided – death and loss.
“I think like most people I quietly avoided the topic, hoping it would go away,” Vlismas says.
This changed with the death of his father last year.
“Dad died, and death really kicked me right in the nuts. That’s when I knew I needed to get to work.”
For the last few months Vlismas has been preparing for arguably his toughest show in his comedy career.
His latest one-man show The End, which debuts soon at the Pieter Toerien Theatre in Montecasino, is by far his most raw, dark and deeply funny.
Vlismas takes the audience into the psychology of death, illustrates the lengths to which humans go to pretend it won’t happen, and finally to the site of his father’s last breath.
“It is by far my most personal comedy for sure,” says Vlismas. “I’m going to tell the story of my dad’s last few hours. That’s a very personal space. But I believe we’ve all been there.
“We forget that the sadness we went through, everyone has had to face, so while personal, it’s also a shared story, and I hope people who come will be able to replay the losses they’ve experienced and see it from a less lonely perspective and see the humour that sits deep inside.
“What struck me during the personal train wreck that was 2018 was that humans are probably the only organism that is acutely aware of loss.
“We dedicate our lives to processing it, reliving it, resenting it, regretting it, avoiding it, causing it, banking it, weaponising it and more.”
During his father’s illness and death, there were moments of profound sadness and depression, but also of “deep, deep humour”, he says.
“This show is about how, no matter how much humans suffer loss, we always have the option to laugh in its face. Dad taught me the value of the middle finger raised against big odds.”
Still, it was a tough task. “My last few shows have been hard to write because they’ve required honest reflection. But this has been the hardest to write so far. I knew it would be, so I enlisted some help. Liesl Coppin isn’t just a great actor and writer, but an old friend who has lost both parents – she’s helping me to wade through the experience of it all, and share some of her own insights.
“It’s incredible how much of what we think is unique about our story isn’t – it’s shared. This has been hard, but it helps to have a collaborator.”
Preparing for the show has, in some ways, helped him deal with the loss.
“Any thought given to a hard thing helps deal with it. I suppose in a way this show is a way of saying goodbye and thank you to a brilliant man I was lucky to be a son to. And a way to tell death what I really think.”
Vlismas has always preferred comedy that disturbs darkness.
“Safe, non-offensive comedy seems such a waste. I believe the only important comedy is horror’s neighbour – because that’s where it’s needed.”
Vlismas also pays tribute to his father.
“We were very close. It was tough, but profound. My father was a remarkable man. He had an incredible sense of humour as well, and could tell a joke better than I can. He taught us how unconditional love plays out.
“We were all with him in the weeks before he died, particularly his last few days and the final moment. Being with him then was a privilege that took a piece out of each of us as it happened.”
Vlismas hopes those attending the show will enjoy the material.
“I hope they buy tickets by the handful, and then laugh and get tearful and laugh some more.
“I hope at least one slightly overweight and tipsy lady loses control and passes a small quantity of wind.
“I hope they have deep conversations in the car, better sex than usual when they get home, and wake up feeling better off, but the same.”