While 2016 hasn’t been a good year for much of the world in general, it’s been a pretty great one for the satirical sphere. After all, with everything from the untimely demise of a perfectly healthy gorilla thanks to human stupidity and the election of one of the most powerful leaders of the ‘free’ world for pretty much the same reason, it’s little wonder that this year was the one which launched thousands of tears (and memes).

If there are a few things which we can be eternally grateful for, I’d like to think that keeping good humour in adversity is one of them. Indeed, with its rip-roaring and sometimes ribald comedy which is always fiercely relevant, it’s little wonder that the tickets for this year’s The Comedy Knights sold like the proverbial hot cakes.

I want to start by saying the obvious, which is that unless your sense of humour is firmly in place and your tongue lodged in cheek, this show really isn’t for you. During the intermission when I was scuttling around looking for my friends, I did happen on one particular sour puss who was x’għarukaż-ing all up and down the length and breadth of the bar and to be honest, I’m not really sure why. After all, going to The Comedy Knights and not expecting political references is a bit like going to Saudi Arabia and expecting to walk around the streets drunk wearing an itsy-bitsy bikini without drawing attention (and stones) to your person. So I suppose if you’re the type to still light candles in front of your politician of choice’s photograph like he were some Stone Age deity, you should give this one a miss and not post your complaints on The Salott.

Thomas Camilleri, Chris Dingli, Jo Caruana and Marc Cabourdin.

What makes The Comedy Knights so wonderful is the unflinching way the cast look into the sun and tell it how it is through the well-written and sometimes hard-hitting script

This inevitably brings me to one of my favourite sketches in the show, the aptly named ‘The Salott Support Group’. While I really enjoyed a lot of the politically themed bits, I felt myself a bit less susceptible to them than usual, possibly because of the barrage of the, frankly, horrific political happenings this past year has brought with it. ‘The Salott Support Group’ was particularly clever in my eyes because it really brought out the different characters that you encounter on this group of almost mythical status. Indeed, it had everything from the typical member deviating from the online discussion to talk about something completely unrelated to that one person that will without fail ask if Lidl is open every blessed Sunday. The script was not only cleverly written, but the characters were portrayed with great gusto.

Further zest, or rather a lack of it, was what Steve Hili portrayed in ‘Maltese Waiter School’ where he gave foreign waitress Chantelle Micallef Grimaud a crash course in how to give silver service à la Maltaise. Not only was his rendition spot-on but it actually succeeded in making my blood boil slightly at the thought of all the positively bad dining experiences I’ve had pretty much once a week this year alone.

Pia Zammit and Jo Caruana.

Back on the stage was also a new episode of the ‘Sliema Girls’, played by the fabulous Jo Caruana and Pia Zammit. I have a special place in my heart for these sketches, particularly because they bring out the worst, or arguably best, of the stereotypical Sliema girls, but also because Caruana and Zammit are really able to give the part its nuanced depth. I suppose what makes it even funnier is the fact that I’ve actually been thrust into very similar conversations more times than I’m comfortable writing about.

Of course, I cannot and will not talk about Pia Zammit without mentioning her side-splitting portrayal of the Prime Minister’s wife, Michelle Muscat. Not only has Ms Zammit succeeded in perfecting Mrs Muscat’s voice, but the way she has constructed the part she plays, complete with satin dressing gown and debatable henna tattoo, is truly something to behold.

What makes The Comedy Knights so wonderful is the unflinching way the cast look into the sun and tell it how it is through the well-written and sometimes hard-hitting script. What’s more, they do it so eloquently and with so much gusto that even if you do disagree with the subject at hand, you can’t really fault them on the inescapable irony and well, tragi-comedy that the last year has brought.

It’s been an objectively catastrophic year; if we can’t all at least laugh about it together, even if just for a few minutes, then what else is there left to do?