Greg Fleet: Secrets and Lies

Greg Fleet is clearly a comic who’s intimate with the phrase “when in Rome.”

Being something of a journeyman—as is to be expected of today’s generation of stand-ups-Fleet has built up a bank of cultural observations about UK life, with his set showcasing both our idiosyncrasies and Fleet’s appalling Scottish accent.

Discussing the standard Scottish fare of diet and drunkenness, the Australian is funny if not wholly original. But much as is the case with his American counterpart, Reginald D Hunter there’s a freshness about his observations on British stupidity coming, as they are, from foreign eyes and not those of a domestic comic.

Fleet’s energy and enthusiasm are captivating while he tells tales of embarrassing himself in front of his hero Stephen Fry, of having gay sex in Wollongong and being challenged to a fight in a drug rehabilitation centre by a giant with appalling smack-talk.

There are two major problems with the set though. Firstly, excluding the closing sequence about a mythical monster called Skauny-Doo, there is a real lack of stand-out material and, as a result, Fleet fails to rise above the level marked “decent.”

Secondly, Fleet is far too honest a comedian. That’s not meant in the Bernard Manning sense of the word, rather that he consistently remarks after his jokes “actually, that’s not true” with the effect of completely destroying the illusion.

Comedy audiences understand the tales they are told may well be fictitious, their only concern is that they are entertaining. In Secrets and Lies, Fleet would do a lot better keeping his lies secret.