Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a comedy icon. Audiences know and love her from Seinfeld and Veep.
Lily Hensby, writer and performer of this fun show, claims to be obsessed with her.
The premise of I, Julia is that if Hensby manages to evoke Louis-Dreyfus’ comic skills sufficiently, the woman herself will turn up – giving Hensby validation and a boost to her own comic career.
The spoiler rule prevents me from revealing if Louis-Dreyfus does show.
But we are treated to some classic moments from her body of work, such as Selina Meyer and the croissant, Elaine’s fear of having rabies, and (my favourite) Louis-Dreyfus’ acceptance speech when she won the Mark Twain Prize for American Humour.
Under the direction of Kate Ingram, what Hensby offers is not so much straight mimicry, as a joy in making the material and the characters come alive.
Hensby herself has a wonderfully engaging stage presence and terrific comic delivery. Constructed around a premise of the persona having to wait, the script throws out formidable challenges in terms of pace, with the performer having to navigate the variations between the moments of tight, high-energy when she plays Louis-Dreyfus’ characters and something slower and looser when she plays her own created persona.
The piece is an impish invitation to think about some pretty big issues.
One of those issues is validation. Performers often put extraordinary pressure on themselves by setting international fame as the only criteria for success. Considering the odds, it’s sadly akin to a gambling addiction.
Another issue is the nature of humour. We’re asked directly What do you find funny? At least one audience member, unsurprisingly, found this question difficult to answer. (Much laughter derives from a reversal of expectations; to explain a joke may not be to murder it, but it does usually result in accidental humourcide. Note: this pun is not Hensby’s, but mine. Second Note: Very little laughter derives from puns.)
Hensby admires the musicality of Louis-Dreyfus’ delivery, her ability to make every syllable funny. Many directors and writers will concur with this vision of the script as a score and will encourage actors to play every note.
But on a less technical level, Hensby suggests that Louis-Dreyfus’ popularity has come from her ability, and willingness, to play unpleasant people. Often her characters are incredibly shallow and totally self-obsessed. We’re invited to laugh, with the performer, at such characters. By laughing at human faults, we remind ourselves that we’re susceptible to them, and that we can recognise and transcend them.
So the question becomes What is the value of laughter?
As Hensby notes, there aren’t many situations which laughter won’t improve – and this show embodies that spirit of playful jubilance.
Paul Gilchrist
I, Julia written and performed by Lily Hensby
At the Emerging Artist Share House (Erskineville Town Hall) as part of the Sydney Fringe
Until 27 September
Image supplied.
Theatre Red 