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McIllroy's alter egos entertain
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November 24, 2009
 By Gisele Turner
Aaron McIllroy has a cupboardful of very funny people up his sleeve; some of them have grown to claim him just as much as he claims them.
The nature of authentic characterisation is a kind of trance state in which the performer loses his sense of himself and is absorbed by the other. Interestingly these characters grow out of a process which releases them from the actor, facets of his own complex personality. When utterly arrived at, a character is never at a loss for words or actions that "fit" because the actor no longer operates from his own centre.
Alter egos are common in the theatre world; in Aaron McIllroy's case he enjoys a relationship with a number of characters developed through this process of excavation and release.
Specialising in one-man shows that feature many men (and some women) this latest offering from one of Durban's most popular comedians is a kind of hit parade of his favourites geared to entertain his fans. Perhaps McIllroy felt that he needed a new angle to refresh interest in these characters and this may have prompted him to collaborate with DJ KingB, a mixer and rapper who enjoys his own circle of supporters.
As a concept it sometimes required a bit of forced exchange with KingB keeping the beats going and introducing the characters. The genres don't necessarily enhance each other; I sensed a magical chemical ingredient was missing in the relationship but couldn't work out why; possibly KingB didn't appear to have anything pithy to say about the characters he calls on stage.
McIllory has a tight sharp intellect that likes to play the double game: the smart idiot; in a sense the "fool" in its most ancient and respected role where wisdom and social comment emerge through a troubled or challenged medium.
His dof Bruce Syringenson who delivers cutting comments about married life under the guise of being hen-pecked is a scream; it's also worthwhile to keep your ears peeled for nasty asides.
Almost too similar to be comfortable is his guitar playing curly-topped hippy fellow, Gary Van Vuuren; maybe they shouldn't be allowed in the same half of the show.
Then there's Pepe, an utterly crazy midget with a foul brain and a bad history, who is visually very intriguing; he footles in the sewers of life yet maintains a sense of pride in his identity.
Star of Unplucked is, from my point of view, the luscious but vicious Lavern Levine - who would have thought that those stocky hairy limbs could transform so sexily with a simple pair of black stockings! Levine is utterly convincing and doesn't play the fool; she's too busy being smart.
The swing of the pendulum to the manic paranoid dictators, also a classic in comedy annals, finds us enjoying the harsh outbursts of poor deluded Nigel Bjorn van Rensburg and the hard hitting shaker and mover Veejay Moodley. With quips, skits and songs and phat beats Unplucked provides an evening of non-stop entertainment.
Runs at Sneddon until Sunday.
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