Have you ever imagined the title of the unnecessary novelisation of your memoir? Probably not, unless you’re a ragingly hilarious Gen Z narcissist like British comedian Leo Reich’s not-bothered, nihilistic alter ego of the same name.
For the ignominious record, he named it A Portrait of the Artist as a Ripped Slut. We know this because Reich proceeds to read from the comically oversized tome on stage. Honestly, why bother consuming the thoughts of anyone else but yourself? This should establish the tone of this razor-sharp satire, lancing our extremely online times in a savage hour that’s all Leo Leo Leo in a supremely LOL way.
Nominated for Best Newcomer at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe, abundantly queer thirst trap Reich appears sporting a skin-tight gym lycra top, short shorts and hefty leather boots that live in that liminal space between athleisure and club kink. Assuming we’re all on board with the world revolving around him, he’s unbothered by decorum, morality, politics, protest or anything other than getting laid by guys who hate him.
Bounding around the stage with abundant bad energy, Reich punctuates his schtick with side-splitting techno-pop musical interludes as lit as his eye makeup. Using and abusing terms like gaslighting and gatekeeping, he tosses out fake apologies for outré asides and silences every applause (there are many) with a harried, “We don’t have time.”
A gloriously bonkers piss-take variant on the “youves of today” narrative, the Reich of Literally Who Cares?! isn’t the same as the real-life comedian. The latter conveys a terrifying sense of impending doom underlying the show, sped up by the pandemic and exacerbated by the climate and cost of living crises. Any twentysomething has every right to ask what the point of it all is if we’re not even sure of a future? No wonder so many perform bits on TikTok, a platform that, just like Reich, allows them to say smart stuff about identity and anxiety through the medium of seeming silliness.
Also Jewish, apparently Reich’s asked every night if anyone else in the crowd is and has been met with resounding silence. Until the night we see him, that is. He impeccably rolls with a sassy clapback from a fellow Jewish dude who wonders if the no-shows might be down to Reich’s name… (You can tell where we’re at in the world when Nazis are a recurring theme this Comedy Fest).
Reich may act like the push for minority rights is boring, but we know he knows it’s not. This stage exaggeration is the monster we have created, and rather than retreating to a safe space, we should stare into the abyss because he’s dishing out the wicked good stuff.
After some more side-splitting comedy? Check out the regular comedy nights in Melbourne.
