Concrete Playground

In any other profession an avalanche of heart surgery, cocaine addictions, extramarital relations, divorce and alcoholism would be enough to warrant throwing in the towel and considering a serious life change. A stand-up comedian, however, couldn't ask for better material.

Robin Williams is no stage spring chicken, with his prestigious presence seeing three decades, four Oscar nominations, one Oscar win, two Emmy awards, four Grammys, six Golden Globes, one Mork and one Mindy. Weapons of Self Destruction is a grand old return to the sex/politics/global warming/elderly/drugs wit that fans have come to dote upon, as November will see the man's first-ever stand up tour to wash up on Australian shores. At almost 60, it's about flipping time you visited, Mrs Doubtfire. After testing new material to the sound of roaring raves from UK and US audiences last year, Williams' energetically classic comedy has certainly proved the test of time, with Disneyfied children hardly having to mourn the decline of their Genie.

With his notorious use of assorted accents and performative smarts, this scathing and often uncouth 59-year-old comedic wit holds one skill over many of his younger contemporary stand-ups (despite a disturbing fondness Viagra skits) that raises his show to something of a must-see: the man can actually act. Williams is notorious for his attentive research of locale, with every country he swoops upon receiving personalised treatment and detailed local criticism. God help us when he discovers Tony Abbott.