The self-described shambles of a show began with a warm welcome from the boys, “Get the fuck in here.” Unfortunately for the guys, they soon came to realise that they had a front row of arrogant bigots who decided they should be the centre of attention by talking through the whole first skit. I refrain from throwing my bottle at the large, tattooed perpetrators head, and zone my focus in on the upcoming corrections of factually inaccurate nursery rhymes (apart from Maui and the sun, which is possible according to basic quantum physics).
James admits to the audience his dream to enter a stadium like a basketball star, proceeding to give audience members torches, then forcing said audience to flick them around on the stage while the lights are off and a typical American basketball backdrop of music plays. James' humour is a great addition to the 3-sim, but his constant hair-touching and fidgeting could be compared in oddity to the Prime Minister's habit. It's is actually socially acceptable here though, so less disconcerting.
The skits moved on (after checking the set list, again) into an Isis meeting, with Pax playing head honcho. His impromptu additions throughout the entire performance were impeccably timed and incredibly well received, prompting hysteric laughter from the audience. This was especially true during his impression of his newborn baby, which had me lose all oxygen. He also seemed freakishly comfortable with playing a sadistic X-Factor producer who kills a contestant's parents in order to create a ‘sad story’.
Brilliantly untidy is the only way I could describe this hour of seemingly unpractised sketches. Jermaine was in charge, and helped out the other two boys when they forgot both their lines, and their fake guns. With appearances on the TV show 7 Days, I was anticipating a greater flare of comedic genius from Jermaine, but I guess that could be a little too much to ask, given all three of the guys also have their own separate shows during this year’s Comedy Festival. Maybe they were saving their stroke of genius for their stand-alone sets, and saw this show as more of a warm up.
Although, their general manner and attire (no shoes worn by Pax, who then tried to sell his ballet socks to the KFC cashier character) lead me to believe they were not frickin’ dangerous in the slightest. Jamaine, James and Pax made the audience feel included, and as though we were part of an hour-long private joke. The content was creative yet relatable, and I left The Basement wanting to be friends with them in real life.