Felicity Ward makes for a brief and brazen warm up to Heath Franklin’s stand-up, stand-out performance as Chopper Reid in Auckland’s SkyCity Theatre from May 11^th-15^th.

If you’ve got a sense of humour and you’ve not got a ticket, get one. If only to save face for New Zealand’s comedy-going public [see below]. 

Franklin’s established comedic persona ‘Chopper’ – a parody of real life Australian sadistic criminal Mark ‘Chopper’ Read – takes us through the sociological phenomenon of ‘Dead Shits’. In his cleverly-composed presentation, Make Dead Shits History, Chopper considers the inadequacy, idiocy and incessant frequency of the ‘Dead Shit’ in modern society.

His research indicates that one in three people are Dead Shits. He carefully validates this research with every performance. Unfortunately, a gaping hole in his theory came to the fore in SkyCity Theatre last night, like the ‘Nothing’ of the Never-ending Story. It was worse than he had predicted. Auckland audience members painfully demonstrated that, in fact, three out of three people suffer from the affliction.

Chopper’s attempts to involve specific audience members yielded brick after brick after painful brick. Although notorious for giving his subjects a hard time (think of his ‘Harden the Fuck Up New Zealand’ tour last year), the playing out of a faux pilot TV script on-stage saw Chopper besieged with knives of indolence.

However, the catastrophic cast brought to light an almost charming, razor-sharp humour which may have otherwise been underrated as script. Much like the fascinating character he uses as his comic facade, after all the guts and expletives have been mopped aside, there’s genuine charisma and wit. And there’s improvisational perfection. Fuck yeah. 

Last night the audience was a charity case and Chopper was a philanthropist.
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Chopper’s first feat is to fill the Opera House for his one-night-stand on the same Friday night the ’Canes are playing the Reds at the Cake Tin. Of course those who think rugby’s more important would be deadsh*ts. That’s his theme. No surprises there, given the title of his show.

A video intro seems to exhaust all its possibilities, so his second feat would have to be his effortless filling of 90 minutes with a bloody funny show that pops the pus from the pimples infecting the arse end of society. Of course if he cut all the fuck ’n shit swear out words it’d only take an hour. But then it wouldn’t be the same.

He’s an amiable bastard beneath his rough exterior and he’s gone to the trouble of ensuring his show has structure and variety. That’s why he makes sure he keeps control, sorting out hecklers pretty smartly with a classic put-down (spoiler alert): “What is it about a show totally dedicated to showing up stupid people that would make you want to call out shit?” (alert ends)

His targets include celebrities trying to help people, bad drivers, drink-drive ads on TV, clichés, drug addicts, Emos, Goths, names for children, religion … And animals – yes, they can be major deadshits too.  

As a change of pace Chopper sets out to prove that two out of every three people is a deadshit by picking – spaced out over the show – out/on three audience members, asking them their names, what they do, and if the can share a) something really stupid they’ve done and b) a really interesting fact. We get Karen the scientist, Will the IT guy and Sam the dental assistant. It works.

Chopper’s PowerPoint screen also introduces segments about “Chopper’s Book to see what the fuck words are up to,” rejoicing in such chapter titles as ‘Deadshitwrecked’, something I can’t decipher from my scribble and ‘Deadschadenfreude’ which admits to the pleasure we get at seeing others being deadshits.   

He proves he cares about charities by screening his promotion for prostate examinations. And the final segment involves an unrehearsed reading of the pilot for Chopper Estates, a TV series he’s written, for which he enlists the services of (on this night) Karen, Will and Sam.  

A very different Wellington crowd – from greater Wellington, I’d say – laps it up. And I can’t help wondering what it means that he knocks us off in one night while his Auckland season next week covers five nights at SkyCity. I mean given his two-out-of-three theory … Or am I being a deadshit here?
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*I’m not being coy, I just have to be careful what words end up in your email alerts because of the moral watchdogs some workplaces have – two-out-of-three at a guess.
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