It’s often been said that there is a sub-section of people within any given society that are referred to as the “labouring invisible”, meaning those working-class individuals that take on jobs or positions that are often dismissed by those who are unable to ever envision being in a line of work that is decidedly lacking in glamour or prestige, but are nonetheless essential to the day-to-day lives of nearly everyone within that society. This gets to the point where those in these jobs are almost viewed as invisible to the people under which they are supposedly serving. The filmmaking duo of Shane and Clayton Jacobson are inspired by this subject, as we can see in the case of Kenny, in which they centre an entire film around the titular character, a manager for a portable toilet company and the self-proclaimed master of waste management, following his life over a few weeks as he does his best to serve the people of his native Melbourne by providing ablution facilities at a number of different events, each one an opportunity for him to perfect what he views as his natural calling. Certainly a film that doesn’t seem to be all that exceptional based on a brief analysis of its plot and general approach, Kenny actually proves to be far more compelling in practice than it does in theory, an entertaining and oddly heartfelt comedy that has many moving parts that eventually coalesce into a deeper and more captivating character study, the kind that is almost betrayed by the more jagged elements that some would think would be a shortcoming of the film, but actually turn out to be amongst its greatest strengths. Genuinely one of the most unexpectedly layered comedies to come out of Australia, and one that has grown to be quite beloved based on its off-kilter tone and sense of incredible authenticity, Kenny is a tremendous film in terms of both its humour and the underlying humanity that propels the film forward and makes it so incredibly charming.

Every successful comedian is unique in their own way, since to be truly remarkable in this field, one needs to establish an almost bespoke style that can be imitated or copied, but never replicated to the point of matching the original work. However, it’s possible to divide most comedic actors into two broad categories: those who exemplify the concept of versatility by being chameleons, managing to transform into a range of different characters, and those who build almost their entire career out of a couple of personas that eventually become iconic in their own right. In the case of Shane Jacobson, quite a bit of his career has been based around the character of Kenny Smyth, and it’s not difficult to see why this become his most iconic role, despite being quite diverse as a character actor based on the many small but memorable roles he has taken on film and television. His performance is fantastic – it’s seemingly not a particularly complex part, but once we see exactly how much work went into crafting the character, we begin to realise how nuanced his work actually is, with every detail being perfectly captured in each frame of this film. As a character, Kenny is beyond lovable – his shortcomings are clear, but they’re never framed as being negative qualities, but rather quirks that sometimes complicate his daily routine, but never once convey the sense that he’s not anything less than a stellar, hardworking individual who simply wants to do his job as well as possible, with victory for him essentially just being the ability to say that he accomplished what he set out to do, and that he did it with pride. A very simple performance, but one that is perfectly-formed towards Jacobson’s skills, his work in Kenny is undoubtedly iconic, and will always remain his signature role, or at least the one that carries the most meaning in terms of showing what he was capable of doing when given the right vehicle for his clear and unique talents.

Based on Jacobson’s performance and the approach he takes to this character, we can associate the same principles of what made his work so memorable with the film as a whole – they’re obviously intrinsically tied, but equal credit needs to go to the director, who may only have a small role in the film himself, and instead does most of the good work from the sidelines, guiding this film to be anchored by his brother’s performance, rather than entirely defined by it, a small but important distinction. Beyond the central portrayal of the titular character, the approach to humour is the quality that makes Kenny so captivating. The film focuses on a very simple, natural kind of humour that never comes across as trying too intensely hard or being too overtly strained in its efforts to be funny. This comes from the writers knowing that the key to making good comedy is to find a simple but interesting premise and focus on the qualities that are going to be most appealing. They avoid making the film too niche or specific, and while there was obviously the temptation to make a couple of inside jokes, the decision was primarily to allow the film to stand on its own without adding on layers that were too overly particular for the subject matter. Kenny is the kind of comedy where the best jokes are found when remarking on the inconsequential minutiae of everyday life, the regular little frustrations that may not seem all that important, but can easily accumulate in the mind of an ordinary person and plunge them into a state of annoyance that can derail their entire day, something that this film is exceptionally adept at representing in its own unique manner. The humour at the heart of Kenny is also evergreen, since it may be mostly focused on satirizing a very particular time and place in Australian society, but its never niche to the point where outsiders can’t find the value in the humour, since it touches on a few universal themes in a way that is distinctly much funnier than we may have initially expected.

Another very important quality of a strong comedy is the way it treats its characters and the world in which they inhabit. It may not seem all that integral, especially since it has been shown that some artists will go to any lengths to make an audience laugh, but it’s usually found that those comedies that have a meaningful point of view, even marginally, tend to fare far better in terms of reaching across demographic and geographic boundaries. Despite its sometimes crude subject matter, Kenny is a surprisingly compassionate film, and one that never needs to aim for the low-hanging fruit in order to be effective. There isn’t a single moment in this film that feels mean-spirited or unnecessarily cruel, and we often find that the most meaningful moments are those that come from a place of genuine affection for these characters. Even the less-likeable characters, such as Kenny’s father and colleagues, are shown to be flawed but human characters that do not intend to make his life more difficult, but rather act as necessary obstacles for his growth. It helps that the protagonist is profoundly lovable, so there isn’t any need for the film to punch downwards – in fact, its portrayal of the working class is amongst its most distinct strengths, since it acts as a meaningful tribute to those who make their living working on the margins of society, doing jobs that are both unappealing and entirely essential. People like Kenny are the reason society functions, and without them, we would find ourselves falling into disarray. The film is never heavy-handed in how it hails these people as heroes, but it has a fondness, and it never once conveys the sense that it is looking down at the working class or using them as the source of humour. Instead, the humour is extracted from the more absurd circumstances into which the protagonist gets himself, making Kenny a heartfelt and charming comedy that targets social conventions and the bizarre little quirks of everyday life, which turns out to be an exceptional choice for a film driven by this amount of genuine empathy for its protagonist and the many people he represents.

Without the number of high-profile figures that have shown their support for this film, as well as the critical acclaim and cult following it has received as a result of being discovered mainly through word-of-mouth campaigns, Kenny would likely reside in relative obscurity, since there’s nothing particularly notable about its premise or execution based on a cursory glance. In fact, it’s logical to think that the majority of prospective viewers would even be repelled by the very notion of a film centred around a character whose entire raison d’etre is portable toilets. Yet, there isn’t a moment in Kenny that doesn’t feel like a wonderfully endearing masterwork handcrafted by a group of filmmakers whose perspective and approach are beyond invaluable, and worth every moment of our time. It takes some time to acclimate to the film’s unique tone, as well as the process of trying to make sense of some of its more bizarre narrative components, but it ultimately proves to be a far more engaging affair than anyone may have actually expected. Solidly-crafted, deeply meaningful and wonderfully incoherent in the best way possible, what the Jacobson siblings achieved with Kenny is nothing short of a delight, especially considering it was a debut feature for the director. The film emerges as a well-crafted and excellently composed comedy, one in which every joke hits where it is supposed to, particularly in how it balances outrageously broad humour that borders on the slapstick with moments that are more subtle in their humour, being objectively very entertaining but in a way that carries meaning, even if only on the margins. An excellently-written, beautifully entertaining comedy that is as bold as it is comforting, Kenny is the very definition of a film that is much more than meets the eye, especially in how it navigates tricky narrative territory to deliver something truly outstanding.