So Fucking Rock

He makes my Top 6 comedians that I have seen live. On stage he is naive and charming and potty mouthed and dark and naughty and cutesy. All in the one person.

I've seen Tim Minchin on stage, in TV comedy galas, and being interviewed by Australia's greatest intertviewer, Denton . And now I actively chase anything Minchin related. Which I seem to be shouting from the rooftops because no less than 4 people reminded me about the doco screening tonight.

Rock and Roll Nerd is a pretty extraordinary documentary. Not that it is telling an amazing untold never-before-seen story. Rather, it is almost banal in that it presents the tale of a not-so-successful person, in this case a comedian, as he progresses through aclaim and to success. The extraordinary thing about it is the fact that it is so intimate. And knowing how much preparation and planning go into film making, it must have been made by psychic cinematographers.

Before fame, Tim looked nothing special. Before he tortured his hair and wore guy liner, he looked hilariously unfunny.

I kind of wish Rhian Skirving had started filming in the time between the curly smiley fellow above, and the dark eyed grunge god we know today. The steps in between, the processes of the decisions for straightening and lensing and lining are really what intrigues me, rather than just the fact that he did it.

So the rags to riches story follows Tim at his first solo show at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival (sigh!), winning an award and getting picked up by an auntish (tangent: why is there no reasonable female equivalent of avuncular? Discuss) but savvy producer from Edinburgh. He goes to the Biggest Arts Festival In The World (swoon!), and with the relentless work of his sister and producer, performs a sell out show, and wins the Perrier Best Newcomer. Success!!

Watching that whole process of getting a show up, getting the crowds in and getting the reviewers to speak in glowing terms at the Ed Fest was not actually something I had watched before, and having lived it, it was quite strange to see it go on on the screen. Seeing the nerves about getting the crowds in early, watching the flyering and box officery, witnessing the emotional impact of glowing reviews (and the slammers too...). It was like watching a goldfish bowl of experience that I have already been through. Except Minchin was a lot more successful than The A Team. This time, anyway.

While he is over there, his very adorable and newly pregnant wife is at home, slaving and a social worker. After the festival, she flies home to Melbourne, and he heads to London - where the work is in comedy.

And while he's there, Sarah miscarries. One of the most incredible scenes of the film, as the initially reluctant father mourns the loss of the child he was too far away from to protect. It was at this moment I knew that the person behind the camera was obviously not just some blow in, but someone that the Minchins knew beforehand. In this scene, and particularly in the Bad Review scenes, Minchin's vulnerability was painfully bare and raw.

Unlike most footage of comedians - all bravado and no reality. In this doco, we see a scared little boy (like most of the males I know, to be honest... They would hate it if they know I thought that about them though, so don't tell them), who wants to be recognised for the talent that he knows he has. There is something endearing about his megalomania, his narcissism, his needy need for ego stroking. Possibly because I love to be the Performer's Ego Stroker. But it made him seem real, seem more like a human, and less like a piano-playing funny-man demi-god.