Pochsy IV Unplugged: Don't worry. It's nothing weird. It's medicinal
09 Apr 2025 - Photos by Gary Mulcahey

Pochsy introduces herself and then begins to tell us about her morning routine, much of which seems to take place at night. She thanks us for coming, "I wasn't sure I'd make it. I've been super busy." She may not be a reliable narrator but she is captivating to watch. Karen Hines has created a character who is so deadpan that one has to lean in, not only to hear, but also to make sure she is still breathing. It is no wonder she is so phlegmatic, she has lost her job at Mercury Packers, due to "global fuckalization," where we learn she was potentially exposed to their product which explains the gloves and tremors. She also pops pills and swigs from a questionable bottle, "Don't worry, it's nothing weird. It's medicinal." She almost cracks a smile as she explains just what the self-medication is to treat, a list of vague maladies like "mild anxiety" that sounds much like what many of us take vitamins or chew gummies for. That is the dirty little secret about Pochsy, she is a satirical representation of a good proportion of the audience and the ripples of recognitional laughter are provoked expressions of guilt.

Pochsy is obsessed with labels, fashion and being seen as a good person. She wears a fabulous panda bear coat (the influence of costume consultant Justin Miller/Pearle Harbour is much in evidence) but not to worry, it is "recycled" and has had all the white removed to just leave the blue black. Pochsy cares deeply about animals and the environment. She's just not sure how to prove it to us. She is not so much hypocritical as she is oblivious. Perhaps deliberately oblivious. Her environmental concerns climax with her experiences on a cruise, which she claims to have won but may have been a scam to harvest her personal information, that goes from island to island rescuing stray dogs to pair with the passengers. Pochsy touches lightly on the phenomenon of the more damaged the rescue dog, the higher the moral status conferred on the owner, before descending into the bowels of the ship to meet her paired dog. To reveal more is a spoiler, but Pochsy IV Unplugged makes another detour into the surreal, the religious, the mythological and the metaphorical. Hines and director Blake Brooker keep the temperature low key so that we continue to believe in Pochsy's version of reality. 

The dog adoption also attempts to tie up a lot of loose ends. Pochsy tends to meander, switching topics and anecdotes seemingly at whim. Certain images and ideas resurface or bubble underneath, but much goes unexplained and definitely unexamined. Hines is not mining ideas for comedy, this is anti-comedy in the Andy Kaufman tradition. Pochsy blithely steals a Joni Mitchell melody and tries to cover for it with a personal connection and a vocal dig. Expressing confusion over the multitudes of genders does lead to a comical nasty quip, but then to another idea altogether involving AI and authorship, "Sometimes it's just faster." The gags are ruminative or deeply ironic though she does, in a conversation with God as opposed to the prayers to God that pepper the show, zing off a one-liner that provokes gales of startled laughter. It is almost as if Hines is pointing out that if she wanted, if Pochsy wanted, to deliver rat-a-tat stand-up, they certainly could. But they both would rather work in the rich vein of prodding at our culpability and self-delusion. You may not leave Pochsy IV Unplugged with a stomach sore from laughing, but you will be gloriously wounded.