His school mates may remember him as the class clown so it might come as no surprise that in 2024, Ned McVicar, then 21, enrolled in a Bachelor of Comedy. Seriously!
As told to Vicki Milliken
I’ve always enjoyed pushing boundaries and was probably considered the comedic relief of the class through high school. In the last two weeks of Year 12, our school agreed that everyone could wear casual clothes. I made it my mission to wear some sort of crazy costume every day. My favourite was Bart Simpson – I even painted my skin yellow. Another was a mime with the full-face paint. I didn’t say a word for the entire day, even when I put up my hand to answer a question in class.
At the end of my final year, I remember one of my teachers telling me it would be a waste if I didn’t pursue comedy. I didn’t take him seriously. Instead, I applied and was accepted into NICA – the National Institute of Circus Arts – after an audition which included handstands, tightrope walking and juggling. I loved performing, but even before graduating, I realised that my passion lay in making people laugh and trying to mix circus and comedy wasn’t going to work.
I started searching for comedy courses and was shocked to find that I could study comedy as a proper degree at Collarts – the Australian College of the Arts – in Melbourne. I’m in the second year of a two-year course. The highlight has been a split bill I performed at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival this year as part of an initiative called Pilot, which supports young emerging comedians.
My skit included, among other things, a death counter machine (simulating in real time the cumulative number of deaths around the world), a hula hoop, a webcam and a PowerPoint presentation. It sounds weird, but it worked. Being good at comedy is not like being good at maths. Humour is so personal, and not everyone finds the same thing funny.
I’d call my comedic style alternate. My number one inspiration is comedian Nathan Fielder. And my favourite skit of his is one where he pretends to be a business expert who promises to improve the profitability of a real small business, Pet Mania. So, he buys a pet fly. Buzz. When it dies, he buries it in a pet cemetery and erects a six-foot high gravestone in its memory. On it he inscribed, “Here lies Buzz, my loyal friend, whose favourite store was Pet Mania. Mention this gravestone for a 15% discount.”
Thank you and good night.
