Photo: Netflix
Review - The mother-in-law joke is so old and tired that it has been long retired from decent comedy but I hope you’ll forgive me resurrecting it for this review of the Russell Brand stand-up show Re:Birth which is on Netflix now. You see, somehow I got the idea into my head that this show would be the new version Brand, the new age shaman, the guru preaching tolerance, self-care, mindfulness and love for all curation – the one we get in his often superb podcast series Under the Skin. Somehow, I foolishly thought this might be appropriate viewing for the (16+) members of the family which included my wife’s mother visiting from Sydney. And it was her 69th birthday.
Reader, how wrong can someone be.
Re:Birth is vintage Brand - but the vintage is the self-obsessed, East End nouveau-celebrity with the potty mouth and an ability to shift easily from vivid depictions of his own onanism in mime to a celebration of the one-ness of all living creatures as different aspects of the same infinite consciousness.
I love this stuff… usually. His Wellington show in 2012 made me laugh until I cried but sharing this edgier material in the intimacy of my lounge room with someone who was very politely not enjoying it took the edge off a bit.
The main topic is always Mr Brand himself and he is charmingly disarming about his failures in the public arena. The riffs about ‘truth-telling politicians’ and ‘truth in advertising’ were effective but not all that original, while his description of witnessing the birth of his first child had all of us shifting uncomfortably in our chairs.
If you are interested in the new-fangled new-age Brand whose spirituality and commitment to recovery are an essential balance to a world that’s coming apart at its selfish seams, the podcast and his books are the place to start.
If you are after a well-crafted adult stand-up show with occasional diversions into some surprising areas, then I can recommend Re:Birth.
The following day I felt like I had to atone somewhat for my choice the night before so offered my mother-in-law a screening of the rather more wholesome Spielberg/Streep/Hanks vehicle The Post which was gratefully accepted even though it turns out that she had already seen it.
