Review: But Also John Clarke

A documentary about John Clarke starts off with one huge advantage: it's got John Clarke in it. The New Zealand born comedian who made Australia his home was one of the most effortlessly likable and charming features of both countries' media landscapes, which possibly explains how he managed to get away with so much over so many years.

So this is a must see straight out the gate. Directed by Clarke's daughter Lorin Clarke, this works on pretty much every level you could ask for. Skillfully crafted personal history, peek behind the curtain at the history of his long running satirical segment opposite Bryan Dawe, potted history of Fred Dagg and by extension the origin of New Zealand comedy and much more besides, it's a constantly engaging look at a creative whirlwind who also seems to have been a top bloke in person.

With access to what seems to have been a seemingly endless archive, large sections of this are narrated by Clarke himself in a mix of public appearances and home movies. His extensive written work gets a solid look in as well, with a lengthy collection of his peers and co-workers (ranging from Andrew Denton and Shaun Micallef to Ben Elton, Wendy Harmer and Rhys Darby) reading out snippets in between providing their own insights and recollections. Lorin herself chimes in at times, deftly reminding us that along with everything else he was also a loving father, and a very inspiring one at that.

Add in an insightful look at Clarke's own personal life (where a lifelong dislike of authority was instilled by a school he hated so much there's a note in the end credits to let us know his views towards the school later mellowed), Sam Neill getting emotional more than once, and a reminder that Farnarkling was a craze that swept the nation, and you'd almost think this was too much of a good thing - if such a view was possible where Clarke was concerned.

Instead, this often gives the impression of barely scraping the surface. Which is exactly the impression a look at a man as talented and creative as Clarke should give. Put together with loving care while allowing Clarke's humanity to shine through, this works whether you're a longtime fan wanting to see your favourite works remembered, someone after an overview of a career that spanned multiple decades and formats, or simply looking for a tribute to a man who always had a mischievous twinkle in his eye - even, as Andrew Denton points out, when he was on radio.

-Anthony Morris