Scottish comedian Daniel Sloss is not afraid to remind you of your worth. When ranking professions on a sliding scale of palatability, he puts stand-up comedians low, magicians lower and travel-sickness-sufferers even lower. The lowest of them all? Journalists.
“Scum of the Earth,” the comedian affirmed as he fired the pistol point-blank. It happened to be a tempestuous evening in Melbourne when I crawled out of my cave in the netherworld to review Sloss’s show Can’t and what a night it was. The clouds that eve purged rain as if they needed to get something off their chest and in the shelter of the Plenary Theatre at the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre, thousands of people descended to watch the comedian do the same.
The nub of Can’t is Sloss's rejection of the idea that comedians can’t say anything in the so-called age of cancel culture. As he told us, he has spoken about paedophiles, abortion, religion and addiction and, like Elton John, is very much still standing. How, you might ask? Because apparently, the secret to offensive comedy is a “twinkle in your eye” empathy. He gives us an example: “I’m glad the Queen is dead,” he states with a deadpan stare. “See, it’s almost as if I meant it,” he then smirks.
This is the sort of irreverent humour you can expect from the self-coined “Steve Irwin”’ of comedy. He approaches comedy like Irwin did zoology, with an infectious curiosity that could cost him his life. The 32-year-old comedian wonders what “stingray” joke will be the nail in the coffin. Paedophiles? Rape? Religion? No, it’ll likely be something anodyne, like “wallpaper”.
Not as well versed in Sloss’s schtick as my plus one, it soon becomes clear how he uses dark comedy not only as a coping mechanism but also to socially critique and spotlight taboo topics. In his hit special X, he tackled sexual assault and in Jigsaw, he honed in on relationships and how often people are better off alone (prompting hundreds of thousands of break-ups – so many he has now lost count).
In Can’t, this prickly pear is noticeably softened by newfound fatherhood and has descended into a gooey “marshmallow”. Throughout the show, Sloss hovered between a chair and the stage, often sitting down with a whisky to contemplate life like Rodin’s The Thinker before remembering it was a comedy gig and leaping about the stage to hurtle insults and observations.
From his hilarious observations about the reality TV show Temptation Island to his drug-fuelled benders in Edinburgh and envisaging a Colosseum fight with Joe Rogan fans, he fired the sharp-witted gags like artillery with the audience lapping up almost every hit – a shot too close to the bone for some.
While the latter part of the show could have been tighter, Sloss’s rambles about pregnancy and parenthood had us spinning on a merry-go-round of emotions. We winced, laughed, squirmed and dug our heads into our hands as he crossed the line, crossed it again and crossed it once more. Still, somehow, this Scotsman’s narrative delivery and innate sensitivity seemingly got him off scot-free.
While the feeling may not be mutual, it was a joy to see such a visceral performance; one that denoted insult bombs like it was the Blitz but still managed to be deeply sentimental. It is as if Sloss has the circus skills of a funambulist, straddling the tightrope between darkness and light while delving into life, relationships and human suffering but never managing to lose his balance. Well, that is until he brings up wallpaper.