Despite the midday showing time, Funk Rocket 5000 is a pitch-black comedy. A two-man sketch show of sorts, the two characters onstage are depressive teenager Rachel, and her demonic, self-appointed mentor and aide Dr Benoit, where the audience is encouraged to contribute to Rachel’s ailing mental health through a series of trust exercises. Make no mistake: the execution revels in as much bleakness as the premise promises, and the laughter wrung from it is unequivocally laughter in the dark. This show is not for everyone.
For those willing to stomach a comedy show revolving around mental health issues, the rewards are plentiful, as the two performers (Lee Fenwick and Rachel Lancaster) deliver fantastic one-liners, back-and-forth dialogue and impressively sharp attention to detail that really fleshes out their characters. Lancaster in particular gives an extremely deadpan performance, not once breaking a smile or lifting the tone of her voice. She generates waves of laughter in slamming the manic, despairing Dr Benoit’s attempts at ‘positive reinforcement’. A particular highlight comes in the way Lancaster’s stoicism blends with Fenwick’s intensity, allowing Rachel to bring out Dr Benoit’s own insecurity and unhappiness. As she attempts to assist him in performing the tracklist from Benoit’s deleted ‘album’, only to stop halfway through and take each song to pieces, the repressed frustration Fenwick brings out in this character produces squirm-inducingly funny payoffs.
This is a brilliantly poised and crafted comedy of discomfort and unhappiness, which shines through the performers’ ability to take a mordant premise and mine it for as much giddy daftness as possible. There can’t be many shows at the Fringe which demand their audiences to insist through song that ‘everybody gets sad sometimes’.
