Comedy, at least island comedy, comes easy to us fijians. When we laugh, you and your neighbour will know something funny went down. When someone slips and falls, we crack up with laughter, victim’s wellbeing second to our failed attempts at catching our breath through tears of laughing. It’s all in good fun, and it comes with being from a country that’s given its own name to describing the slow but fun tropical life. Humour is in our bones.

So you can understand how much I was looking forward to checking out the “Kings of Comedy” event, a stand up show that was organised on the 24th of june by a new events company, Renaissance Fiji, and held at JJ’s on the Park (their site is in serious need of upgrade). $10 for a two hour show sounded like a good deal, especially considering the fact that Suva doesn’t hold much in the way of entertainment such as this. It’s either the movies, the clubs, or home. Or…church. Starved for new forms of entertainment, yes we are.

I was late to the show, arriving just after 6:30pm, and was silently cursing myself for adhering to ‘fiji time’ without actually meaning to arrive late. After all, it’s another very fijian thing for occassions, whether government driven, prime minister attending formal, or your sister’s kid’s birthday informal, to be late, even if everything’s in place. However, upon entering the venue (upstairs on the first floor, and past a phalanx of waiters and ticket checkers) and taking my seat, I realized that the place wasn’t that much full, with only about a quarter of the seats filled. Poor attendance? Turned out that there are some people who believe in extreme fiji time as a religion. For the time being, I felt early.

After my two friends and I parked ourselves under the brightest spotlight in the room (quite by accident I assure you), I took in the scene and the first thing that struck me was that everyone was dressed. As in – just finished from a power business meeting with the shareholders lets go have a laugh and a few beers dressed. I started to feel slightly (alot!) undressed, and with my 3 quarters, t-shirt from the plantation, jacket and flipflops, I was becoming painfully aware of the cool air conditioner breeze kicking up a chill in my legs. Oh well. At least the ticket was free (thanks Allen!).

By this time it was 6:40pm, and nothing had yet started, with most of the seats still empty. There was a lonely dj at the front of the room, seated at a table, playing music with his macbook laptop. The stage was all set up, a small platform at the front of the room, with a stool and a mic stand. Behind it were some lovely curtains drapped on the wall. No side entrance unfortunately. The Original Kings of Comedy this was not. Maybe they should have had it at the Playhouse on Selbourne Street. Now that was a real stage, old creaky floorboards and all.

It turned out that Lambert Ho was going to be our MC for the night. He announced that unfortunately, 3/4 of the group of comedians scheduled to do their sets all got cold feet and disappeared. Apparently, only Alex Elborne and two guys Rupert and James were to be our show for the night, and as an added bonus (or because the duty roster was empty) the floor was open to anyone who felt like they could be the funny guy for a bit. Of course, if there’s one thing about Fiji, it’s that if you’re not 14 years old and below, no one is going to accept an invite onto the stage of any show. Ask Cookie the Clown at the annual showcase.

After stealing a few sips from my friend’s single Fiji Bitter stubby (have you seen the prices at JJ’s? Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘tourist prices’) and observing the venue fill up slowly, at around 7:10pm, the show finally got underway, with Lambert giving the event an introduction and even having a go at a bit of stand up comedy himself. Then, it was Alex Elborne for the first set. I don’t know Alex personally, but judging from his photos in the Mai Life magazine, I was always under the impression that this was one guy you did not fuck with. As a person who doesn’t listen much to radio, I’ve missed out on his reputed sense of humour, and the descriptions from his friends about how funny of a guy he was just didn’t seem to fit well with his brooding profile pics. He was carrying a few sheets of paper, and had placed them on the stool, making sure page 1 was facing him. Obviously he was nervous, and he let the crowd know that too, a good move to open with, garnering a few laughs along the way.

When he finally did start with his set, he didn’t disappoint. Showing his knowledge of both on stand up comedy as well as local humour, he weaved in and out of stories both familiar and funny, with situations most of us were intimate with, such as growing up with the movies (“how many times did you guys watch the titanic?”), writing love letters that would have impressed Shakespeare but not your english teacher (“your eyes are like big black stones…”) and even of fatherhood (“I’ve always laughed at those guys who wanted to show you pics of their kids. I didn’t want to see your damn kids loser! But…now that I’m a father…” and he sheepishly took out a photo of his daughter). There were many times during his set when I was nearly yelling with amazement, “I remember that!”, and you could tell Alex remembered it too. Because he was drawing on life in Fiji as his source material, his jokes were that much funnier because…well…we know it all too well.

With his set abruptly ended (“err…ok – thats all”), I had high hopes for the next set, and was ready to laugh all over again. However, the organisers had something else in store, with Lambert announcing the Konvick Dance Group performing a dance for the next part. Now, I’m not too familiar with comedy shows, maybe this is the norm overseas, but I felt like I had just been cheated of my momentum for the show. I came here to laugh along with the comedian on the stage, not get all krump and ‘dance movie’. Granted, the 4 part group was good, but somehow it didn’t feel like part of the event.

The dance ended, Lambert took to the mic again and announced that this was going to be a monthly event, with the next show giving the ladies a shot at the spotlight a.l.a. Queens of Comedy. Then it was on to the next set, with Rupert and James making their way up to the stage. Hmm, I thought, two people? I take it we’re going to see a little stage show. Unfortunately, it was not to be, though their routine wasn’t any less funny. They had drawn up a list of points about how you know you’re a kailoma. 20 points in fact. And all of them were once again, hilariously familiar:

“You know you’re a kailoma when your relatives bring beer to your funeral, wedding, or any sort of family gathering.”

“You know you’re a kailoma if your uncle met your aunty at the Dragons night club. Infact, you were all born thanks to your parents meeting up in Dragons night club.”

“You know you’re a kailoma if drama always somehow manages to find you.”

With the two finished, Lambert opened the floor to anyone who wanted to give stand up comedy a try. And again, no one volunteered. Names were called, potentially funny people were pointed out, but nobody even made an attempt to stand up. And so Alex was called up again, an encore performance if that’s what you may call it, and this time, he called upon the help of the Konvick Dance Group. His rountine?

“The different type of dance styles in the local clubs.” Much laughing and cheering ensued, especially when old favourites were displayed, such as… “The fishing line”, “The pointer”, and even “The boxer”. The dance boys were certainly enjoying themselves, illustrating the dance moves with a mixture of familiarity and shyness.

After the little education segment, Konvick was up again for another dance number that started with some pretty cool robot dances, and progressed with a wierd trip hop soundtrack thumping on in the background. On a music related note, the DJ was the cause for much pain and annoyance throughout the night. When I say DJ, I mean ‘guy sitting at front table with mac book laptop’ DJ. The reason why he was so annoying was because when it came to adjusting the volume of the music, he used the keyboard volume control which emitted a loud and head numbing clicking sound. Obviously someone didn’t show him the volume control with the mouse.

The dance number over, Lambert thanked the organiser Renaissance Fiji and JJ’s on the Park for the event, and reminded everyone that there was going to be another show next month, where he hopes to see everyone again. I’m not too eager on attending the next show. A lack of content, the late start, the strange inclusion of the dance group and the abhorrent prices of alcohol makes the upcoming Queens of Comedy a less then interesting notion. The only shining moment in the whole of the show was from Alex’s part, and I would seriously consider forking out $10 if he was going to be in the next lineup (my own money this time ).

Also – they really need to get a new DJ. Or at least use a pc laptop.