Wil Anderson is getting older. This may seem like an arbitrary, obvious statement to make – hell, we all are – but Ando is really starting to notice it. Australia’s most popular comedian (three times certified by the Melbourne International Comedy Festival People’s Choice Award) is now 38 and has seriously dodgy hips. He hasn’t slept more than four hours a night for six years, and after finding out what’s wrong with him, instead of being crushed by what would to many seem like horrifying news, he has adopted an incredibly optimistic outlook for the future, for both himself and society.
Anderson’s humour can at times appear overly written, the king of the astute observation tends to stretch every bit to within an inch of its life, and while this show appeared to begin this way, it quickly took a turn to the philosophical which it benefited from greatly. While Anderson’s over-the-top rants and diatribes are some of his greatest strengths; he railed against advertising – clearly having learned a few things on The Gruen Transfer – Fred Nile’s homophobia and the ABC’s decision to send him to a doctor in a Westfield, it was the show’s more personal content that saw both the humour and insight dials turned up to 11.
Write what you know, they say, and Anderson clearly did just that. The genuine emotion in sharing both embarrassing medical stories to do with his penis (to preserve his beloved dick-joke content) and how he would heal the world, make it a better place, for you and me and the entire human race (sorry), made for an immensely affecting yet uplifting experience. Anderson received a Barry Award nomination for this show, and it’s pretty easy to see why; it would be a joy to listen to Wilarious as pure personal philosophy. The jokes? They’re just a huge added bonus.