Handful of Bugs is turning late-night radio into a playground of chaos | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Malthouse Theatre

Handful of Bugs are back with their latest creation, Hello Mr. Radio!, a wild dive into late-night radio mayhem and surreal comedy. At the centre of it is Fergus Mackerel, an outlandish host whose bizarre 3am broadcasts turn sound into spectacle and audience into co-conspirator. We spoke with Alex Donnelly, one third of Handful of Bugs, about bringing Fergus to life, pushing the boundaries of form and narrative, and why unpredictability has become the company’s calling card.

The idea for Hello Mr. Radio! didn’t come from anywhere obvious - it came from a sudden spark in the middle of chaos and artistic panic. "We were scouring the vast corners of our collective minds one evening. We were lost. We were afraid. We knew that jesters, big feet, monster trucks and assassins were funny. There couldn’t possibly be a fifth funny thing. And then it hit us," Donnelly tells me. "We were LOOKING in the wrong places, we needed to be HEARING in the right place! The radio. A medium dominated by ears alone for far too long, what if we let the peepers in on the fun? Thusly, Hello
Mr. Radio! was born. Then swiftly put in a drawer so we could finish our fringe season."

Maitriarchy sees Maitreyi Karanth take the throne of laughter | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Ballers Clubhouse

Maitreyi Karanth’s journey to comedy has proven that it’s never too late to chase your passions, make people laugh, and leave a lasting mark one joke at a time. She’s already made history as the first woman in Hong Kong to sell out ten nights of a one-woman headliner show. Now she's on her way to Melbourne with her show Maitriarchy, where she explores midlife, family chaos, and global adventures, with sharp humour, candid reflections, and a playful look at life’s surprising twists.

Karanth’s path to performing has been anything but conventional. It began when she turned 40 and came to terms with having outlived her father, who died when she was nine. It wasn’t until she reached 44 - an age when most people are clinging to stability - that she chose to trade certainty for a microphone. "Growing up in a small town in India, all I ever wanted to be was an actress. I was always in school plays, giving speeches, and performing. But when my father, a passionate public speaker himself, passed away, and with my mum being blind and no money at all, life changed completely. At that time, a fatherless girl going on stage was a big no-no," she explains.

How a pub joke became a comedy show teaching Auslan for Ben Richardson | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Wheat, Wine & Whiskey

What began as a tipsy joke in a pub has evolved into one of Ben Richardson’s most inventive performance yet. Drawing on his life as a CODA - a Child of Deaf Adult(s) - and his years as both a comic and Auslan interpreter, Richardson blends stand-up with hands-on language learning, inviting audiences to laugh while picking up the fundamentals of Auslan along the way. In this interview, he reflects on the accidental origins of the show, the influence of growing up between Deaf and hearing worlds, and why signing to a song could be the funniest way to learn.
 
"This came about from a drunken night out, as all good shows do," Richardson explains. "We were at a country pub and there was a live band playing the usual country pub songs. I drunkenly started singing them in sign language. My mates joined in after I showed them how to do the chorus. Then others on the dance floor jumped in and it became quite the scene. I realised hearing people enjoy doing these in Auslan and I also realised the only way people are ever going to want to hear me sing is if I do it quietly in sign language. Hence, Welcome to the Auslan Jungle was created."

Black Widow: Sex, Bugs & A High Death Toll | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Speakeasy Theatre

In Black Widow: Sex, Bugs & A High Death Toll, Isabel Knight invites audiences back into the web of Arachne, her razor-sharp, silk-spinning alter ego who blurs the line between seduction and satire. Part cabaret siren, part mythic avenger, the half-woman, half-spider creation returns to Melbourne stages with sharper legs, stronger vocals and a newfound depth. We spoke to Knight about how this remount is not just sting and spectacle, but a deeper dive into vulnerability, power and the messy thrill of transformation.

Knight admits that Arachne has never left her and has slowly been weaving her way back to Melbourne stages. "Honestly, I haven’t stopped thinking about her," she says. "She has made an appearance at some cabaret nights singing songs and finding a new lover or two, but nothing beats her in her full form, web and all. She is still itching to say more and who am I to stop her?"

Back to Te Maunga review | La Mama Theatre

In Back to Te Maunga, childhood Māori friends Tāne and Isaac reunite after many years apart, with Isaac living in England and Tāne remaining in Aotearoa, New Zealand. Coming together in a rural cabin, where Tui beer flows, whiskey disappears, and a feast is shared, this quickly becomes more than a simple catch-up. In a moving story by Joel Te Teira, secrets and shame surface, challenging their friendship and their connection to the land.

Joe Dekkers-Reihana and Jordan Selwyn generate compelling chemistry on stage. Their performances are naturalistic and deeply authentic, capturing the fractured tenderness of two men whose lives have diverged but whose bond remains intact. Verbal exchanges hit with impact, matched by some dynamic fight choreography by Lyndall Grant. Their dialogue reflects a long familiarity, and the emotional weight each actor brings elevates every scene.

Jenna Suffern on faking it, finding it and performing it | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Motley Wherehaus

There is a particular kind of delusion required to work in comedy, the sort that tells you to spend money you do not have, back yourself anyway and commit to the bit no matter how unhinged it sounds. For Jenna Suffern, that delusion comes served with a posh accent and the rallying cry of a show that skewers ambition, image and the fine line between confidence and chaos.

"The back story for Lobster In A Glass is that I was at my friend's birthday and I asked them what they wanted to drink. They were taking aggggges to decide so I said in a posh English accent 'what do you want, a bloody lobster in a glass or something?' This then became a bit of a vocal stim for my friend and I and we adopted the mantra of 'fuck it, just order the lobster in a glass'. So when it came time to bring together what the heck this would be about, I realised Lobster In A Glass was perfect since it represents so many different things," she says.

All eyes on Samora Squid: The sideshow daredevil goes solo | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Tote

For 25 years, Samora Squid has been twisting, bending, and testing the limits of the human body in sideshows and circus acts around the world. Now, alone for the first time, they’re turning the spotlight fully on themselves in Squid's Sunday Sideshow. Equal parts daring, absurd, and unexpectedly funny, Squid’s solo debut promises a ride where the audience never knows whether to gasp, squirm, or laugh - and often all three at once.

After nearly three decades performing in circus and sideshow nights, it came down to alignment and timing for Squid to finally take the stage on their own. "It was all about opportunity, and simultaneously having the motivation and discipline," they tell me. "I met the right people who were running the right venue, and they gave me a space to present something unusual and original and at the same time that registrations for the Melbourne International Comedy Festival were happening."