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Whether you’re of the opinion that the axing of The Toasty Show was a loss for television or not, one thing is for certain – it was most definitely a boon for the theatre placing Bevan Cullinan back where he belongs.

To say that Grinder is funny is to savagely understate the truth of this riotous two-man act that explores almost every conceivable bodily fluid with graphic and polished comedic intensity.

Grinder is a visceral assault on just about every sense, with a series of increasingly funny moments.

Cullinan has created a niche for himself over the years with his manic (dare I say “chunky”) brand of physical comedy that manages to expose the sinister appeal of clowns as well as produce unadulterated mirth.

Grinder lacks the underlying menace of Cullinan’s previous work but is by no means less successful.

The play traces the life and times of two implausible sperm cells with a blend of toilet humour and superbly intelligent physicality.

If you’ve ever seen John Vlismas on stage you will recognise the satire in his performance here, but what you may not recognise is the ease with which he adjusts to the demands of sharing of a stage with Cullinan. Simply put Vlismas is as much at home running up the Proscenium arch as he is doing verbal back flips behind a microphone.

Grinder is a relatively seamless collection of unforgettable (and if you’re honest) instantly recognisable situations. And while at times the humour tends toward the obvious and vulgar, there is an indulgence asked of the audience which is perfectly reasonable in the context of this manic world of farts, vomit, rave parties and of course the plight of 10 million soldiers.

As a partnership Cullinan and Vlismas work incredibly well together and it will certainly be interesting to see what direction any further collaborations will take them in.

Grinder is an expose of comedy and theatrical talent; tailor made to accommodate two of the funniest men in South Africa.

Aside from a few topical jabs at current media personalities, which at times spoil an otherwise entirely fresh production and dissolve the world of fantasy, the play has little to say about anything of any great importance. But this is the point. What Grinder brings to the stage is a tradition of entertainment and amusement, which aims to provide an hour of sorely needed escapism.

Stylistically it first appears to be all typically Cullinan, but then this is a moot point, given that the only thing typical about Cullinan is his unpredictability.

It would be challenging to see how these two would fare in a production in the tradition of Cullinan’s Greenspot, spicing the comedic fare with something a little more menacing, a little more sinister, a little more Cullinan. But then anyone who can with consent impregnate a member of the audience and get away with it, could achieve just about anything they wished.