Reviewed by: Fringefeed
Review by Karen Lowry | 28 January 2021

Easily earning the title of the weirdest show you’ll see at FRINGE WORLD this year, ScoMo’s Sunday Service is both hilarious and completely absurd. While the show does open with a church service, this functions largely as a framing device with most of the action taking place in 1997, back when Scott Morrison allegedly pooed his pants at the Engadine McDonalds.

 

The show’s main setting is actually Scott Morrison’s house, which becomes a microcosm of Australian politics. Written and performed by Adelaide band, George Glass, Morrison’s political hits get reduced to the policies he uses to manage his household. Everyday problems become metaphors for border control, climate change, robodebt, and budget cuts. This not only makes them seem completely absurd, it also make the nuances of politics easier to understand, and to laugh at.

 

By weaving in songs that make this show somewhat reminiscent of a cabaret, George Glass manage to tie in their absurd poo jokes with the hilarious political commentary that gives the narrative its depth. While the quick costume changes didn’t always go to plan, this disorganisation worked in their favour, setting the tone for the chaos that seems to follow Morrison around.

 

By the end of the show you’d be forgiven for doubting the band’s sanity. While they seem sometimes unhinged, the show they have produced is a masterpiece. Credit needs to be given especially to Nic Conway, who plays an impressive, and extensive, list of supporting characters, including a priest, an archangel, Scott Morrison’s wife, and many of the characters encountered in everyday, suburban life.

 

The dialogue is also one of the band’s strengths, with Morrison using spin and propaganda even when arguing with his wife. However, some of these scenes do appear to exist as isolated jokes, with the focus being on long set-ups and clever puns. While everything does come together in the end, it doesn’t always seem immediately relevant to the story. Don’t be disillusioned though, the entire 60-minute show becomes one long setup for an impressive, and hilarious, finale.

While the toilet humour is absurd, and sometimes graphic, this show will appeal to even the most squeamish, giving audiences the best of both worlds…political commentary, absurdity, and even men in nappies.