First things first, Cam Venn’s Shark Heist does what it says on the box – it’s a show about a heist [of the world’s largest diamond], and it involves a shark [named Terry]. It comes with dozens of props and at least a dozen characters, some of whom are invented by audience participants on the spot. It’s wild, chaotic, extremely silly, and 10 tonnes of fun (that’s about what a shark weighs, right? I dunno, I’m neither a biologist nor good at maths).
Venn primes the audience for their heavy involvement right from the start – dressed in nothing but his tighty-whities, he tells us that we will be asked to cross the huge gap between us and the stage. He reassures us that he will look after those of us who volunteer, and he won’t embarrass us. He acknowledges Whadjuk Noongar boojar by having us touch the floor, acknowledges his own Māori culture and ancestors in language, and acknowledges all of our ancestors for allowing us to be gathered there to enjoy the space and time together. The few minutes he spends in this process really establishes the positive, welcoming, communal energy that MUST happen in order for audiences to get the full Cam Venn experience. He’s with us, we’re with him, we’re all on the ride together.
Madcap solo sketch comedy is my absolute favourite genre of fringe comedy – it reminds me of how we played as kids, using our imaginations to create worlds out of stuff that’s just lying around the house, making our siblings, stuffed toys, or pets be the characters in our fantasy, imitating things we’ve seen in movies or on TV using funny voices and accents. This is essentially what Shark Heist is – child’s play for adults.
Throughout the show, Venn cued us to say things or react in certain ways (e.g., making alarm sounds, yelling ‘noooooooo’ when certain characters were harmed etc.), but most of the time he really didn’t need to – everyone knew what to do and we did it happily, with as much joy and energy as Venn gave off. Individual audience members were invited to come on stage and don wigs or strap on costume props, and he never had a shortage of volunteers.
Throughout the show, the mound of props, wigs and set pieces grew and spread like lava from a theatre volcano, but Venn never, ever lost control of the space, or of us. Even when bits happened out of sequence, or audience members didn’t catch on straight away about what he wanted them to do, he always had a plan B.
Going to Shark Heist is an EXPERIENCE. Be prepared for full frontal and backal nudity, leave your worries at the door, give yourself access to your inner child, and let yourself play along. If you’re looking to see a late night show afterwards, be sure and give yourself plenty of time in between – it might go a bit over time, and you’ll want to revel as long as you can in the buzz of Shark Heist.
CICELY BINFORD
Cam Venn: Shark Heist runs at The Gold Digger at the Pleasure Garden from 19 – 28 January. For tickets and more information click here.
