Paul Currie is a lawsuit waiting to happen.

As we sit in the make-shift Strand Arts Centre at The Assembly Rooms waiting for the show to start, Currie himself moves the audience about from seat to seat. That seat you’ve picked right at the back may have felt pretty safe and comfortable, but Currie forces you right up to the front with nothing but the raise of an eyebrow and the point of a finger. Start as you mean to go on, eh? Maybe we should have known that this would forshadow just how uncomfortable we were all about to feel.

You’ve heard of audience participation, but nothing matches up to the terror and delight you’ll be filled without throughout Currie’s latest show. Over the course of an hour the audience is manhandled to within in inch of their life. No one is safe from the tiny plastic hand that he bops us on the head with or from the rubber ducks that he makes us kiss. At one point – my personal highlight- he has us all pretending to ride Falkor the luck dragon from Neverending Story whilst the theme tune plays in the background. It’s an insane collection of whatever pops into Currie’s head and it’s hilarious.

Paul Currie

However, it’s not all fun and games. There’s a particularly uncomfortable exchange when an audience member who is trying to put Currie’s shoe back on (don’t even ask!) tosses the Cuban heel across the room hoping for laughs, and the audience member is asked by Currie not so politely to leave. After the rest of the audience persuade the two to hug it out it seems it’s all over. Yet ten seconds later, Currie picks on another man standing by the bar, asking him to sit down. This is where things get really really excruciating. The two argue back and forth for ten or fifteen minutes, all the while you can’t help but be on Currie’s side – after all he is the madman, the loveable clown we’re all here to see. It’s like a car crash, a bar fight that we’re all a part of. The audience look around at each other nervously laughing. Is this staged? Is this part of the show? The woman I was sitting in front of insists it isn’t, but we think otherwise. I have never felt relief like I did the moment that the subject of Currie’s annoyance sat down. The audience cheers and normal service resumes (although I think it’s safe to say that the word ‘normal’ doesn’t exist in Currie’s world).

After the fight, I find it quite hard to see the funny side in Currie’s comedy for a few minutes. I feel a bit traumatised to be honest, but this doesn’t last for long and before I know it I’m crying with laughter while Kermit the Frog seduces a pineapple (Currie is a Jim Henson company trained puppeteer don’t you know?). As big time Paul Currie fans, us at PastieBap.com have seen a few pieces from this show before, but that doesn’t stop it being funny at all. To describe the show doesn’t really do it justice, Release the Baboons is more of a ‘you had to be there’ sort of comedy show. Luckily you can. Catch Release the Baboons on the 4th October at The MAC – tickets are available here.

Paul Currie

Laura Caldwell

Author: Laura Caldwell

Hi, I'm Laura. I'm 30 years old and have a degree in Journalism with Photo-Imaging at the University of Ulster. I have an undying love for Belfast and all that it has to offer, an undying love for sleeping, Tegan and Sara, trashy tv shows, foreign snack-foods and being irresponsible with money. I also quite like origami, reading, jazz, hip-hop, dubstep, anything acoustic and Food Network TV. I've written for The Big List, Culture NI, Chatterbox and The Echo, as well as writing for BBC Across the Line.

3 Replies to “Comedy Review: Paul Currie – Release the Baboons

Leave a Reply