Review: Nish Kumar at The Arts Centre

Review by Greg Gorton

Nish Kumar is given a gift from god at the very beginning of tonight’s performance. In a conference-room-cum-comedy-theatrette, the middle fifteen seats, the best in the house, have been reserved. It turns out that they were not reserved by Kumar, but the theatre. Reserved for employees of a conservative consulting company who clearly didn’t know what comedian they had grabbed free seats from. As disgusted as I was at the idea a big corporate company can just do that, I wasn’t half as disgusted as Kumar. For the next hour and a bit, though, he had a physical representation to point to every time he spoke about the problem with our modern society. On one hand, I would have hated to be one of those employees, pointed out during every third or fourth punchline. On the other, you can work somewhere else.

About ten minutes into Nish, Don’t Kill My Vibe, Nish Kumar “apologises” to those who had just sat through the first of many powerful political rants and thought to themselves “he’s not like that on Taskmaster!” I must admit I was surprised by the unapologetically political and rage-filled humor that I was to experience throughout the night. Surprised, but far from disappointed.

A lot of comedians at the MICF will use phrases that basically say “fuck Trump”. It’s an easy way to get a cheer, a safe bet in a festival that, as all comedy festivals do, will skew to the progressive. The difference between these comedians and Nish Kumar is that, when he says it, he means it, and he says it regardless of what it will do to his career. That is why he is also happy to call out those comedians who aren’t saying it, who are hiding or “sitting on the fence” at a time in history where there are no fence sitters - those who are quiet are complicit.

So yes, the first half our of Nish, Don’t Kill My Vibe, is a powerful argument against the evil in this world, with a particular emphasis on what “representation” means, the direct link between fascist world we live in today and the colonialism of the past, and the inescapable truth that what happens in the US or UK affects what happens here in Australia.

What also sets Kumar apart is just how funny he can be while remaining deadly serious about how angry he is. This is helped by using comparisons between himself and his Diana-loving mother, finding ways to say “fuck Trump” that have never been said before, and choosing ridicule over physical violence... most of the time.

For those worrying about it being just seventy minutes of diatribe, you have two reasons not to worry, The first is that Nish has yet to be on time, sometimes going over for up to twenty minutes. The second is that the second half of this show is a tiny, little bit, less political. It also covers Kumas’ anxiety disorder, what it is like to continually worry about death, how close his personality is to his mother’s, and whether it is even possible to do comedy about what is in your fridge.

There are minor things that can affect how much you might enjoy this show. You do need at least a little knowledge of the last twenty years of British political history, but you should know that anyway. You will also need to forgive the comedian to be a little too angry about his own politicians to spend enough time knowing who to properly attack in our own back yard. It’s more than safe to say, however, that Palmer and Dutton would be on top of his hit list if he did. Finally, it’s important to not let all that rage fill your ears with wool, because there is another message that is just as important to Kumar, one that is repeated often - the way out is through unity, community, and living without apathy.

A raging force of political good, and willing to put his future prospects on the line for it, Nish Kumar exemplifies the concept of “moral obligation”. Rough, raging, hilarious, Nish, Don’t Kill My Vibe is a good show to see if you need some catharsis regarding the world today - or to just know you aren’t alone in your frustrations.