By BRUCE DENNILL
Nik Rabinowitz: Mountain Jew / Theatre On The Square, Sandton, Johannesburg
Stand-up comedy is a difficult thing to do, both in terms of dreaming up good gags and entertaining scenarios and then in presenting them smoothly and convincingly on stage. Nik Rabinowitz, now 25 years into a consistently highly-regarded comedy career, has long ago mastered – a term not used lightly – these aspects of his art, so it’s more or less expected that each new solo production he stages is, at the very least, good for plenty of laughs and some exercise for the brain.
His latest show, Mountain Jew (this is not its debut run at the Theatre On The Square; it was brought back by popular demand) would succeed on the writing alone, but its impact is stepped up, considerably, by the introduction of a new element – a large screen, on which Rabinowitz controls a series of projections for the duration of the show. Done badly, this could be a distraction, either taking away from good material or trying to bolster jokes that aren’t really working. As it is used here, it makes for a much more immersive experience than stand-up comedy alone.
Rabinowitz’s distinctive style – think ADHD on Red Bull on a bullet train, with enough words for a novel and an intellect able to keep them in order – is retained for this new format, but the show’s extra heft is down to more than just the electronic prop. Just as powerful is the theme of the show: Rabinowitz going down a genealogy rabbit-hole to trace the routes of his family, going centuries into the past. This means a great deal of cultural musing on being Jewish and what that means, but without the stereotypes and jabs that are the domain of less sophisticated thinkers. The depth of the research involved is hugely impressive, as is the practical feat or rounding up photographs and documents from generations of Rabinowitzes past and editing them into an instructive and attractive backdrop to his quickfire patter.
The upshot of all of this is that, after a couple of minutes of introductory gags to get a feel for the room, Rabinowitz hits full flow and is into the considerable and sustained detail of his family’s story before the audience fully realises how invested they are. It’s an amazing, nuanced skill, drawing in and holding a group of strangers into a substantial presentation – Rabinowitz is on stage for the better part of two hours – that doesn’t feel anything like that long. Much of the latter facet has to do with the show being hilarious – deeply, gut-achingly, ceaselessly funny – from start to finish. And part of the rest is down to the extraordinary details of Rabinowitz’s family through the years, from fleeing pogroms to experiences in world wars to living in pottery kilns and eyebrow-raising inter-generational romances, among (very) much else.
This is bar-setting solo stand-up stuff, somehow not even relying on the shpiel many successful comics have as their template – a few tics or trademark jokes to remind the audience of how much they’ve enjoyed the performer in previous shows – to make the risks of committing to a new idea (and a detailed concept) a little lower. Brilliant entertainment, deserving of another return run. And then another.