Last weekend I went to see Zoo goes Fishing at Ta’ Qali’s Greek amphitheatre, featuring the comic talents of Chrysander Agius, Owen Bonnici, Daniel Chircop and Claire Agius Ordway.
This was an irreverent, very funny stand-up comedy show which poked fun at everyone and everything under the sun. It was certainly different by Maltese standards because the biting satire was quite harsh, almost cruel in the swipes it took at well-known personalities and politicians. This was not the gentle humorous mocking of our society that other shows and comedians have attempted in the past. Oh no. This was a no-holds-barred (at times even vicious) slashing through the superficiality of all we think of ourselves to be, until the real Maltese character was revealed to its very (often unattractive) core.
Yes, it was sometimes vulgar. But just listen to the language you hear as you ride the bus, walk down the street or even enter a shop: the crudity and coarseness is all around you, from the mouths of 16-year-old shop assistants to the tattooed macho man who snarls at you to reverse down a narrow street because his truck is much bigger than your tiny car.
Some of the sketches and one-liners left us gasping in shock at their sheer audacity and I don’t think I was the only one with “I can’t believe they just said that!” look on my face. But when satire cuts to the bone to elicit such a reaction, it is because it is exposing the raw truth, and the gales of laughter are a sign that you have struck a chord with your audience.
Having said this, I often wonder whether zeroing in on smutty language or questionable behaviour through humour can be interpreted as a way of excusing it, “Hey, everyone talks or acts like that, it’s OK and we’re even laughing at it”.
No sketch illustrated this more vividly than when the multi-talented Sander Agius strolled out wearing a white suit, sporting a cravat and cradling a shotgun. The howls of laughing recognition even before he opened his mouth in itself told a story: how many people are that immediately recognisable in Malta without an introduction?
As soon as Sander began speaking in stilted, pompous Maltese with that familiar Anglo/Italianised accent, he brought the house down. His impersonation of the notorious Norman Lowell was flawless.
There’s no denying that the actors took an enormous risk with this sketch. As the big screen showed a pre-recorded clip of our shoreline, an “illegal immigrant” attempted to clamber up the jagged rocks. “Norman Lowell”, while spouting his usual spiel, casually turned towards the screen and “killed” the man – this
happened several times during
the course of the sketch, and each time the audience roared with laughter.
It was at this point that I began to feel uneasy – were they laughing because they thought it was ridiculous, or because they secretly approved? Where do you draw the line between setting up someone as a figure of ridicule, and inadvertently condoning his beliefs with this kind of publicity? The wickedly accurate impersonation was also being applauded, of course, but with growing racism rearing its ugly head on this island, you can never be sure.
It was Claire Agius Ordway who “saved” the day, coming on the stage as the voice of our collective conscience. As “Norman’s” diatribe became more and more incensed and bizarre, she was the voice of reason. But it was when “Norman” decided to point his shotgun at the audience as he spoke about those who didn’t agree with him, that the real message came through. The audience’s laughter became nervous as the implications sank in. Once you accept the dangerous preaching of such a man as being valid, it is a slippery slope of violence that will spiral out of control.
The Zoo contingent were saying things we all discuss privately with our friends, when we are being honest about how we really feel about the “movers and shakers” on this rock. I found it interesting (and refreshing) that everyone laughed equally whether the joke was about Alfred Sant or Lawrence Gonzi. No one got all hot and bothered because “their” party was being ridiculed.
Laughter is the best medicine according to a popular section of the Reader’s Digest. So maybe there is a cure for the malaise on this island after all.