Rhys Darby: It's Rhys Darby Night, Udderbelly, Edinburgh
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.The clue to one of this show's weaknesses is already in the title; it's homage time.
Of course it's exciting for fans of the hit US television show Flight of the Conchords to see one of their heroes play live. And it's fair that they should get an introduction not only to his range of skills – from sound effects to characters – but also to his life, now that he has gone from being a Kiwi delight to flavour of the month in the Big Apple and beyond.
But recognising his provincial-boy-made-good status is done in a way that comes over as a bit cocky or, at best, so matter-of-fact as to leave no room for self-deprecation.
A few mildly amusing stories of his new-found life in America and specifically LA, where he now lives, including having trouble with a prosthetic penis on a film set, constitute Darby's stand-up tonight. It's a slight portion of the show in terms of time and laughs and ultimately merely a preamble to his character work.
While the stand-up is muted, the character work is esoteric; a park ranger, a whale-watcher and a ufologist. Despite the obscure nature of his menagerie, Darby inhabits his creations to give them a decent depth.
His park ranger proves to be a buffoonish Luddite who smashed everything that might have a computer in it when YK came. His whale-watcher is equally flawed in his thinking, having only one life-jacket to offer his tourist charges: "if you twelve could just bunny up," he hopefully advises them. His trio of alter egos is completed by camp ufologist Steve Whittle, whose tale of abduction by aliens moves away from the idea that he was probed to the fact that he was manhandled.
From the character work the show progresses to such wheezes as recorded walkie-talkie exchanges of what the contrast between the activities of the LAPD and the New Zealand police might be, from "officer down" to "I've put the sausage rolls under a tea-towel."
Certainly there is plenty of variety here, with even a robot impression to round off the show, and given that you were never going to get a "band meeting" with Darby's Conchords character Murray (though one punter inevitably asks for one), any fan of Darby who is charmed by his line in hapless characters is unlikely to be deterred or disappointed by this show.
To 15 August (0844 545 8252)
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments