Urzila Carlson is great. So why is her new ABC sketch show so bad?

Urzila ★★

As one of New Zealand’s most celebrated stand-ups and a regular highlight on panel and quiz shows, Urzila Carslon is undeniably funny. She’s adored for her brash, bawdy jokes and deadpan style, regularly tackling topics such as medical misogyny, homophobia and fatphobia without ever landing as a lecture. But Urzila, the stand-up comic’s new ABC sketch comedy series, is considerably less funny – seemingly intent on undercutting its star’s best punchlines.

On paper, Urzila looks easy for fans to love. The six-episode series is essentially an extension of Carlson’s stand-up, featuring live sets filmed for the series at Melbourne’s Athenaeum Theatre interspersed with surreal sketches inspired by the material.

Backed by an excellent core cast of four Australian comedians (Andy Saunders, Bron Lewis, Carlo Ritchie and Anisa Nandaula), Carlson plays all sorts of wacky characters. A patient zero in a Karen pandemic, a “Hire-A-Lez” handywoman who speaks almost exclusively in innuendo, a menopausal cop who spots all the clues the male cops miss, and a member of the produce police who tackle shoppers who thumb one too many avocados.

But these sketches often unravel the refined on-stage punchline we just heard, repeating the joke instead of substantially adding to it. Why would we laugh at Carlson telling a gynaecologist to “shuck my oyster” when she’s just used that same line on-stage? Even if the sketch imagines something new (in this case, the doctor is amazed by how tiny Carlson’s vagina is, bringing over others to look), it rarely builds beyond the first conceit of a scene.

Sketch comedy doesn’t have to be ground breaking or particularly original to get a laugh, but it does have to be lively. With a few exceptions – a mechanic specialising in fixing bras; Carlson walking into her own funeral, with ex-lovers mourning her passing over to “the other side of middle age” – the stand-up scenes are simply sharper, smarter and funnier.

Guest stars such as Julia Morris, Sam Pang, Concetta Caristo, Ione Skye and pop star Anastacia (playing herself) mostly glide by on a sense of recognition. And maybe recognition is the goal, garnering smiles from audiences who see their frustrations with bad doctors, Karens and long queues for the women’s bathroom reflected back. There’s merit in that – though onstage, Carlson’s jolting, often-lewd delivery is much more fresh and daring. It’s an energy stripped out of Urzila’s sketches with predictable, repetitive punchlines.

Perhaps this is more a reflection of the ABC and Australian television’s approach to comedy than Carlson and co’s talents. While local comics are making plenty of exciting, oddball sketches and shows online, risk-averse networks tend to prefer broad, palatable humour. Take Aunty Donna’s Coffee Cafe, a six-part ABC series which had its viewing numbers eclipsed by a single sketch by the comedy trio released on YouTube. Speaking to The Guardian last year, they criticised the ABC for becoming “super safe” with comedy and culture, hinting that the vision for the show was perhaps watered down.

Watching Urzila, you hope that something similar has happened here – and that Carlson’s next project, an ABC sitcom created by Nazeem Hussain, won’t be the same.

Urzila premieres April 29 on the ABC and ABC iview.

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