Fucktards can be a cause for social concern, and no-one feels this more than Chopper, a self proclaimed ‘hard bastard’ who devotes much of his set to decrying their existence. This, zumba and Brangelina are amongst Chopper’s bug bears, which he delights in regaling the audience with over the space of his hour long show. The audience, however, seem less delighted.
Faux-mustachioed Chopper, created by Aussie comic Heath Franklin, is about as hard as a cushion stuffed with marshmallows, and this seems to be the intention. Well, perhaps. The character is so fundamentally flawed, and in many ways entirely superfluous to the comedy itself, that one wonders why Franklin bothered at all. None of the efforts he goes to (read: scrawling on 'tattoos' with a biro) contribute anything to either the character or the comedy, and for a character comic, that’s a pretty undesirable feat.
It’s always slightly concerning when the biggest laughs of the night come from the outbursts of an inebriated audience member, and Chopper’s put-downs undeniably lighten the mood. But a drawn out sequence in which he attempts to enlist the help of a reluctant crowd slows the pace of his already bumbling set, propelling the likelihood of laughs even further into the abyss. Some of his material edges over the typical knob gag stuff, and for this, comedy fans should be grateful. But this is quickly followed by another rant about fucktards, by which point any existing gratitude has well and truly gone out the window.