Frank Woodley used to be one half of comic duo Lano and Woodley. Often when successful partnerships end the protagonists fade away. Not so with Frank Woodley. He simply gets better and better. The disingenuous fall guy is no more. Well he admits to having sort of a ‘pathetic vibe’ but his material is so much broader nowadays.
Known for his rubbery physicality he can illustrate an anecdote or shaggy dog story to perfection; Woodley ducks and weaves all over the stage and roams off the point with amusing asides but cleverly leads the audience back to point of the tale.
With the ingenuous words “My friend Dean is a horse”, he leads us into the paranormal world which he seems to inhabit. How many people can vividly recreate a horse imitating a meerkat? From there the surreal ramble takes us through crocodiles, tourists, accidents involving ladders, and a killer example of why Woodley refuses to trust flies. His silliness is inspired.
On a different note is the audience participation. It’s a safe assumption that anyone attending a comedy show will have a sense of humour, but Woodley simply charms his targets and, on the opening night, they were brave and brilliant. Bruce and Phil were lured into a period play, read cloaks and three cornered hats, and a deadly duel. The audience were vociferous in their appreciation of the lads’ efforts.
There was a marvellous meeting of the Nazi head honchos, all played by Woodley as he leapt from character to character, desperately trying to settle on a new Heil Hitler salute.
It was a wonderful journey of whimsy underpinned by clever ideas and impeccable delivery.