A very funny foray into the otherness of our post-colonial landscape. The Kransky Sisters are deeply odd.

COMEDY FESTIVAL REVIEW

LIKE smallgoods of uncertain origin that have been set out too long in the sun, the Kransky Sisters emerge as withered delicacies.

With its fictitious annals filled to the point of eerie probability, Heard It On The Wireless is an evolved work. Mesdames Kransky are deeply odd. They are also deeply considered art pieces and so, within seconds, one is engulfed by their hideously scented world.

I imagine that I can smell a coarse jumble of lavender water and week-old budget mince, so persuasive is their pantomime.

This piece is as creepy and as complex as a date with Joss Whedon. Just as there is a credible cosmos in Buffy, there is an immense Kranskyverse.

In one reading, this show features a droll trio of sinister spinsters who sing funny songs. In another, it’s a walloping assay of Australian innards.

Like a bizarre meeting of Voss with Ding Dong Drysdale, this is an all-singing, all-dancing foray into the otherness of our post-colonial landscape. Steeped in denial and soured by the sun, these over-heated Queenslanders are always about to boil over.

Searing critique aside, this show is very, very funny. May the Kransky creations long remain laced up tight, and may their feminine charms continue to perish in the furnace of their own extreme repression.

You will never look at a mixed grill or hear AC/DC in quite the same way again. If you can bear such minor cultural inconvenience, rush immediately to see this show.