KEY POINTS:
I've always looked forward to the comedy festival for a number of reasons. The most obscure of which, is the fact I don't have to go to the gym for a month.
Three years ago, I wrote a story about the science of laughter - also known as
gelotology. During the research process, I discovered that a one-minute guffaw has the same health benefits as a 45-minute gym workout.
Thus, I rationally deduced that if I was going to see three comedy shows a week, I needn't waste time on a cross trainer.
Alas, my logic has failed me this year as I haven't once experienced the stomach-cramping, oxygen-deprived laughter that constitutes a proper "guffaw".
Yes, I have chuckled. In fact, I'm still giggling about Simon McKinney's uncanny impersonation of a checkout operator - a full week after I first heard the joke.
But I have yet to have a 'that's-so-funny-I'm-about-to-wee' moment.
This time last year, I'd had several of those moments. Phil Nichol made me laugh till I cried with his Nearly Gay show. Unfortunately, history did not repeat itself this year.
I don't consider myself a prude, but a stark naked Nichol wiggling his willy in front of my face was more than I could handle early on a Monday evening.
Tuesday night's Big Show had potential. But the freezing comedy chamber, paired with a stilted and stoic audience, put a damper on the evening that even the best comedian would have struggled to overcome.
So as I headed to Irishman Ed Byrne's show last night, I was ready and willing to laugh. And I did. In a giggly, tee hee, my-belly's-not-in-this, sort of way. Looking back, I think I was more amused by opener Paul Ego - a local radio presenter - who delivered a well-timed, easy set of topical Kiwi humour.
That's not to insult Byrne. He was, as always, very good. But as he veered off on various tirades about the frustrations of life, you couldn't help but feel it was all a bit rehearsed. Indeed, at times it seemed Byrne himself was sick of his material, let alone anyone else.
Still, I'm not giving up yet. Perseverance is key - as is my determination not to set foot in a gym this month - so next week it's off to see Australian Carl Barron and festival newcomer Mark Watson.
Following last week's brief sample of Barron's work at the Comedy Gala, my money's on the Aussie blighter for next week's biggest laugh. Given promoters have just added another show to his Auckland season, it would seem I'm not alone in my prediction.
