No Risk with Fisk

Okay, we’re a week late with our Fisk review. But c’mon: if you need us to tell you to watch what is easily the best Australian sitcom this decade, you might as well send us your bank details and be done with it.

There are a lot of things Fisk isn’t. For one, it isn’t shit. But the fact that it’s not trying to be cool or edgy or dramatic or shrilly on-message when it comes to topical issues – or much of anything beyond being funny – is a reminder of just how far down the list of priorities “funny” often is when it comes to local comedies.

To be fair, even when local comedies are trying to be funny, the results are often… Well, let’s look at the most recent and most obvious point of comparison, the local version of The Office. Remember that series? Released at the end of last week, completely forgotten five minutes after the end of last week?

Like the local version of The Office, Fisk is largely set in an office. Unlike the local version of The Office, Fisk is smart, features jokes based on observations of how people actually behave, and feels like it was made by and for actual human beings. The cast of Fisk are playing characters written to their strengths as performers. The cast of The Office are barely playing characters at all. You get the idea.

Slightly less snarkily, Fisk treats its core characters as people we’d like to (possibly briefly) spend time with. They’re all annoying; They’re all also annoyed by the annoying behaviour of their co-workers. Nobody here is a two dimensional bad guy or cartoon foil. They just want things that sometimes clash with what everyone else wants – peace & quiet, a smoothly operating workplace, a jar full of biscuits, and so on.

Season three has opened up the ensemble a little: Ray (Marty Sheargold) has found love. Roz (Julia Zemiro) has her own clients with her dispute resolution business (plus a sideline making music). Webmaster George (Aaron Chen) has his side hustles and a hacker grandmother. Fisk (Kitty Flanagan) abides, though she does now have her own place.

Sitcoms often wear down their cast’s rough edges over time. Fisk herself now seems a lot more reasonable (at times she’s almost chirpy), but that may just be due to society’s overall decline. What seemed like a prickly personality in 2021 is now a delight to spent time with compares to the violent nutters that roam the streets in 2024.

Even if she has mellowed a little, having much of each episode’s friction provided by a steady stream of cranky clients and dodgy local business people (hey, Tom Ballard really does have a baby face) helps a lot. Who would have thought Carl Barron as Fisk’s surly neighbour would be the comedy find of 2024?

Thankfully, Fisk‘s core crew are too different to ever fully get along. Fisk herself might have finally gained couch privileges in Ray’s office, but it’s not like there’s going to be any kind of non-awkward group hugs any time soon.

We could go on, but you get the idea. Fisk is an instant classic that just keeps on getting better. You don’t have to consider the alternatives to know we’re lucky to have it.