Comedians frequently lie – but if the story is funny, does it matter? If the truth of a smash-hit TV show is contested, does it mean you enjoy it less? At a time of post-truth and AI, when it’s become increasingly urgent to question the things we see and hear, Lou Wall’s new show, Breaking the Fifth Wall – which was just nominated for best show at Melbourne international comedy festival (MICF) – takes the audience on a breakneck journey into the truth.
Immediately, Wall is genuinely likable. Their energy is warm and open, more so for also being a little chaotic. Directed by Zoë Coombs-Marr – whose own acclaimed shows are similarly high concept – Wall puts the audience at ease, and welcomes them behind the curtain to explore the real story behind one of their favourite (and recently viral) bits.
The story is about Wall listing a bed for free on Facebook Marketplace, and the unhinged interaction that follows with a woman named Eileen. It’s a fantastic bit, not least because it’s very believable: anyone who’s listed something on Facebook Marketplace is familiar with the absolute gauntlet of humanity’s weirdness that you open yourself up to.
What starts as a fairly straightforward story, with flashy lighting queues, visual gags and catchy music, quickly unravels into something much more meta and much more complicated. The show, as Wall says, is completely true. Except for the parts where they lie.
Wall references the recent Netflix series Apple Cider Vinegar, based on the story of notorious Australian liar Belle Gibson. Marketed as “a true story based on a lie”, Google data showed skyrocketing searches for “Belle Gibson” after its release in February, as viewers raced to their phones to find gaps between the show’s version of the truth and the much slipperier reality.
Leaving Lou Wall’s show, I did exactly the same thing; I grabbed my phone and searched online. I wanted to find clarity between reality and fabrication. The feeling is familiar – media these days is full of “true stories” that are actually some mix of reality and fiction. Even photography – once held up as the pinnacle of accuracy – is now easily fabricated by AI. We’re surrounded by things that are not quite real – but not quite fake either. What was strange was feeling that way after a standup show, where it usually goes without question that the truth is a slippery thing.
How often have you heard a comic tell a story about something that happened to them on the way to the gig? Do you question that the joke was actually written months before, shifted to the present for immediacy and exaggerated for effect? In service of the best joke, comics shift timelines, change characters, simplify events. Every single show at this year’s MICF will feature some lies. There’s nothing wrong with that really – it’s the nature of the form.
Wall never says that lying is inherently bad or that it doesn’t play a role in good storytelling. As they succinctly demonstrate with a graphic that references everything from Baby Reindeer to Donald Trump, lies are a spectrum. This show doesn’t make moral judgments; it simply shows the value in asking questions, of being conscious in our decision to suspend disbelief.
When describing a show as profound and thought-provoking, it feels important to also emphasise that it’s also funny. This show contains a buffet of jokes – from pithy one-liners and carefully timed anecdotes to spot-on callbacks. It’s silly and ridiculous and very easy to recommend, while also being remarkable in its complexity. Like a good magic trick, you want to see it again just to try and work out how it was done. It is the comedy show equivalent of that video where you think you’re counting basketball passes and therefore totally miss the gorilla.
Breaking the Fifth Wall is a timely meditation on the truth. It marks Wall as not just a comic to watch but someone at the top of their game. Just don’t expect the truth.
Breaking the Fifth Wall is on in Melbourne until 20 April, Perth 10 May, Brisbane 15-18 May and Edinburgh 28 July to 24 August
