Mrs Lovett’s Famous Meat Pies Grand Reopening Extravaganza review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Spielhaus

Having survived being thrown into an oven, along with a few other mishaps across the decades (and centuries), Mrs Lovett is back and ready for her grand reopening. Her ethically sourced human meat pie shop has set up in the heart of Melbourne at Queen Victoria Market, and this is no quiet return. With a handful of celebrity friends, including Jamie Oliver, lending a hand, Mrs Lovett invites her audience into a live pie-making demonstration that quickly spirals into something far more chaotic. And it all begins with a tuba. Yes, really.

Created and performed by Elliot Wood, Mrs Lovett’s Famous Meat Pies Grand Reopening Extravaganza is an unhinged, wild ride comedy that wastes no time finding its rhythm. When a performer starts at an energy level of 11 and somehow escalates to 15, with the audience happily swept up in this madness, you know you are in good hands.

Gossip review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Bauhaus

Don’t tell anyone I told you, but … it’s a phrase many of us have uttered - or at least been told. That tantalising morsel of someone else’s business that gives us a strange, guilty pleasure. But why? In Gossip, Abigail Banister-Jones sets out to investigate whether gossip makes us a better person, and why it feels so good.

Banister-Jones brings a great energy to the stage, with playful banter that draws the audience in. She bounces off a wide range of sources like the Bible, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Gossip Girl, creating a mix of perspectives and cultural touchstones that keeps the exploration lively and relatable.

The Ex Files: A Comedy True Crime Tour review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival

Hell hath no fury like a gay man scorned. What starts with sweet dates and musical theatre singalongs descends into something far more sinister. In The Ex Files: A Comedy True Crime Tour, Matt Bell blurs the line between true crime and total fabrication in his 'investigation', guiding audiences around the Melbourne CBD to uncover the evidence behind a crime that may or may not exist.

With each audience member armed with a pair of Bluetooth headphones, Bell guides us through a series of locations tied to the relationship at the centre of the story. We move from the bar where the first date occurred, to a cinema shaped by a wicked lie, to a restaurant that ends in heartbreak on the most romantic night of the year. Bell has clearly put thought into the structure, and standing at each location as he reminisces, makes the experience immersive, like we're re-living it ourselves.

Sugar Bits clean up the trash with their feminist chaos | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Bauhaus

Sugar Bits are back with their riotous sketch show, Feminist Trash, and they are ready to wreak hilarious havoc on Melbourne once more. Nicola Pohl, Tessa Luminati, and Stephanie Beza are the three brains behind the operation - so perfectly in sync it’s almost unfair to the rest of us. Unsurprisingly, when asked to do an interview, they answered as a single, terrifyingly witty entity.

Both the group name and the show title are boldly chosen, feeling playful, ironic, and a little provocative, teasing out how the group’s identity is reflected in - or upended by - these names. "It genuinely comes from very shallow beginnings: Sugar tits, but because we’re sketch comedy, we do Bits! Sugar Bits! Whereas Feminist Trash was born from a tagline when flyering for our first show, Hit n Hope, where we would say to people 'this show is feminist trash'," they tell me. "It just caught on and became an idea we wanted to make a show about. Feminist Trash subverts the name Sugar Bits because the name is ultra-femme, but the way Feminist Trash is grotesque, stupid, and dark, can be seen as unfeminine or ugly, which happens to be the way we like to be femme!"

Beyond The Neck review | Theatre Works

In Beyond the Neck, Tom Holloway’s raw and unflinching script brings four strangers together in the shadow of tragedy, each carrying their own pain. As their paths cross, the play quietly unravels how trauma lingers, how memory presses in, and how people navigate the fragile spaces between loss and connection. Set in the aftermath of the Port Arthur massacre, one of Australia’s darkest tragedies, the play traces how the echoes of violence ripple through ordinary lives, shaping the way people remember, mourn, and try to move forward.

The characters are all coping with grief in different, haunting ways. The Boy embodies disturbing tendencies; The Teenage Girl channels fear into obsession and speculation; The Young Mother and Wife carries memories she can’t let go; and The Old Man, a survivor of the massacre, bears the lingering impact of what he witnessed, giving the audience an intimate view of loss.

What happened when Rachel Tunaley lost her eldest daughter crown | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Spielhaus

Eldest Daughter Syndrome describes the pressure that often falls on the oldest daughter, who can end up taking on a lot of emotional and practical responsibility within the family. Recovering Eldest Daughter is Rachel Tunaley's new cabaret, sparked by the moment a surprise gender transition from her older sibling suddenly shifted her from eldest to… not so eldest.

Eldest Daughter Syndrome was something Tunaley had been acutely aware of for some time, and as with all great shows, “write about what you know” became the starting point, right up until her sibling’s transition changed the family dynamic. "I was seeing a lot of conversation online, especially on TikTok, about Eldest Daughter Syndrome and I resonated with the 'symptoms' for lack of a better word, and decided to unpack it more. While it’s not a formal syndrome, there are plenty of similarities in experiences for eldest daughters such as the burden to be perfect or successful whether that’s in career or romantically, struggling to articulate your own boundaries and needs with others and feeling like the caretaker of the family," she tells me.

West Gate review | Melbourne Theatre Company

The construction of the West Gate Bridge in the late 1960s was one of those 'Melbourne is growing up' moments. It wasn’t just a bridge, it was a statement, a declaration that the city was expanding into something faster, louder, and unapologetically modern. Spanning the Yarra River, it promised to connect a booming, industrial west with the CBD, easing congestion and fuelling economic growth. It carried a forceful optimism, the belief that infrastructure could reshape not only how people moved, but how the city itself functioned.

That optimism, however, was undercut by warning signs that were raised but not fully heeded. When the West Gate Bridge collapse occurred on 15 October 1970, killing 35 workers, the bridge’s meaning suddenly flipped. What had symbolised progress and ambition came to represent the human cost behind it, a reminder that rapid growth and grand vision can come at a devastating price.