Bla Kondixin (Sir Temi Zammit Hall, Tal-Qroqq) has become a phenomenon of Maltese show business. This annual spectacle of loud and often outrageous satire is now in its 11th year, and its popularity is clearly greater than ever.

The political satire in panto was stuff fit for a Jane Austen drawing room compared to this- Paul Xuereb

With this year’s 15 performances, including one for the Gozitans, most packed to the rafters, it must be the only box-office rival for the Christmas panto, whose technique of audience participation it clearly borrows from but whose kindly spirit it certainly does not care for.

The political satire in panto, even in the darkest of our political times, was stuff fit for a Jane Austen drawing room compared to this. This is hard-hitting satire of the coarsest kind intermingled with spots of unrestrained ribaldry for the many in the audience who like things even coarser.

The show is a mixture of musical numbers and staged numbers, and the script is by six authors who include people unknown to me but also the well-known comic Snits and Michael Fenech, who also directs the show.

Fenech, I know, strongly believes it is the satirist’s job to pillory the unjust or incompetent actions of the state and its institutions. This year, together with his fellow authors, most of whom seem to be distinguished by the richness of their scatological and sexual vocabulary and by the poverty of their general vocabulary, he has made a meal out of the weaknesses of the current government and, more particularly, out of the handling of a number of projects by Austin Gatt, one of its leading ministers.

Rarely, I feel sure, has a minister of the republic been subjected to the ridicule with which Gatt has been showered with again and again by Bla Kondixin.

It is he who bears the brunt of the satire in number after number, verbal or musical. The Arriva transport service is targeted again and again and rendered a wretched laughing stock.

Compared to him, even the prime minister gets off relatively mildly, while the finance minister gets targeted badly once and not again, I think.

There is one number, however, in which Lawrence Gonzi’s cabinet is put up for ridicule, by being presented as a band of pixie-capped smurfs (or puffi as they are best known in this country) who are as absurd as they come. One of them reacts to anything said by a colleague by shouting, “I hate him!”

Other victims of Bla Kondixin’s satire are the journalists most notable for their constant defence of the current government: the columnist and blogger Daphne Caruana Galizia, and media man Lou Bondi and also, but more mildly I think, Peppi Azzopardi. Not for the first time, Caruana Galizia finds herself impersonated – not brilliantly, I must say – on a Maltese stage.

The violent events that have characterised North Africa and the Middle East this year have been noted by the authors. They have inserted a number featuring a couple of North Africans and point out that the Maltese businessmen who hope to make a packet out of what has happened in Libya may easily find themselves yet again carrying out the Libyans’ agenda.

Another spot, consisting of the singing of what is certainly a dirge bearing the title of Gaddafi Blues, was about the late unlamented Colonel Gaddafi.

Here, interestingly enough, it is not the colonel who is satirised but all those Western (including, I imagine, Maltese) politicians and businessmen who had thrived upon being friendly with Gaddafi but were among the foremost who rejoiced over his comeuppance and death.

The several non-political spots are dominated by Snits and Tanya Scicluna, both first-rate comic actors with a gift for characterisation.

There is very little that is subtle about them, but they have raised the craft of blue jokes to the level of a fine art. I particularly enjoyed Scicluna’s spot as a medical specialist who goes through her business without batting an eyelid, even when disaster is happening or imminent, but it is her foul-mouthed Lucy Cocciatolo, a regular in these shows, who raises gales of laughter.

Snits does very well as an elderly man whose days of heroic sexuality are over; he is hilarious without being excessive.

Paul Borg Bonaci’s loutish Jonny l-Kajboj was clearly a familiar figure for many in the audience and a great favourite. I’m afraid the thick diction he adopts, which seemed to present few problems to many in the audience, was often too thick for me.

Chris Grech does very well as the show’s compere. With his friendly smile he could have been presenting a respectable family show. The group The Bandy Busses – now I wonder what the reference is – provides very lively music, with Borg Bonaci singing well – and also clearly.