Rising Damp

What seems to’ve caught Nicolette Minster’s eye, and sparked her speculative imagination, was a news story about a snorkeller in full wet-suit gear being found drowned miles from the sea.  Weird, eh?  Turns out there is an explanation.  A helicopter was involved... And water.

About to turn forty-one, Nicolette Minster decided to commemorate this turning point in her life by swimming forty-one kilometres.  She also discovers that ‘rising damp’ is not what she thought it was.  No, it means mould...  But... a useful metaphor, nonetheless. 

And so, the linking theme of water is established and pursued up some anecdotal byways and what could have been – well, were - humiliating experiences. 

Several things distinguish Minster’s schtick.  First, although she describes some embarrassing predicaments, she avoids that ‘I’m such a klutz’ thing that some stand-ups are prone too.  Instead, her tone is warm, and she talks to us as equals, as if we too have been where she takes us – or where we will soon go – and what she did about it.  She makes us really like her and asks us to laugh with her.

Second, she’s prepared to go into possibly risky or icky areas like toilet training her two-and-a-half-year-old son.  Part of that involved a ‘no pants’ day for Mum and the kid...  Or having to clean up a whole supermarket aisle.  Or worse.    

Third, as a comedian, Minster is a master of the pause.  She can leave you hanging, desperate for the punch line or even just the second half of a sentence.  With this show, the pauses might have been because it was a preview, and we were the very first to see the show.  Maybe, but she makes it work.

Rising Damp is a more personal, everyday experience sort of show than some of her previous outings – like discovering her net worth or being trapped in a basement with a lot of biscuits.  It’s still a ‘symptoms of our contemporary life’ show, but not so unsettling or so mordant.   Just very funny.  I was laughing from the start and didn’t stop.  As for the forty-one-kilometre swim, well, you have to see the show.

Michael Brindley