This Must Be The Place review | Sam Taunton | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | QT Melbourne

Sam Taunton’s This Must Be The Place is a personal hour of stand-up built around a moment of transition. The show’s central premise takes shape when Taunton’s father decides to sell the family home in Nowra, prompting a reflection on what 'home' actually means. This upheaval unfolds alongside two parallel pressures: Taunton has recently learned that The Project will be coming to an end in a matter of weeks, and he and his girlfriend are navigating the process of buying a house. Together, these overlapping circumstances form the backbone of a set that is as much about change and timing as it is about place.

Taunton moves fluidly between these narratives, but rather than segmenting them, each strand informs the others, allowing him to circle back and build meaning over the course of the show. Within this framework, he weaves in material about his childhood, relationships, sex, and political observations, integrating these elements into the main story instead of treating them as departures. The result is a set that expands outward while still remaining anchored to its core.

Mel McGlensey is Normal review | Mel McGlensey | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Chinese Museum

Mel McGlensey is normal. Or at least, she wants to be. But what is normal? At its core, it means what is typical or expected, but expected by whom, and in what context? That’s where it gets tricky. In Mel McGlensey is Normal, McGlensey is trapped in a simulation, overseen by an AI system named NorMel, who will only release her if she can prove to the audience that she is normal. The people are real. The tests are real. The rulings are final.
 
As we settle into the opening moments of the show, the so-called curse of the Jade Room at the Chinese Museum kicks in, and her tech fails. Not ideal for a work that relies on it. With a background in improvisation, McGlensey takes it in her stride, riffing with the audience while things reset. When it eventually begins working, she drops back into it so smoothly it’s as if the interruption never happened.

**Swingers** review | Christian Elderfield | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Askal

Christian Elderfield’s **Swingers** is a personal account that charts his experiences navigating the world of non-monogamy, framed under a mix of candid confession, saucy observational humour, and punchy one-liners.

Drawing on real-life encounters and a distinctly conversational style, he guides the audience through unfamiliar social spaces with curiosity and bravado, balancing explicit subject matter with a light, comedic touch.

Elderfield takes us through his adventures in swinging, and, in case it’s not obvious from the imagery, he’s referring to couples who have sex with other couples, not jazz music or playground equipment. He proves to be a strong storyteller, with a great sense of punchline delivery and a knack for puns.

Hot Chicken Bags review | Grace Hogan | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

In Hot Chicken Bags, Grace Hogan combines original songs, stand-up, and audience interaction in a cabaret-comedy set that is energetic and driven by her personality, moving between these elements with a relaxed, informal structure. The show leans into musical numbers, while shorter comedic anecdotes and audience exchanges help shape the rhythm of the performance, creating a varied mix that prioritises presence and tone over narrative.



There are some impressive moments in Hot Chicken Bags, particularly when Hogan taps into her strengths in music and performance. A song she wrote after breaking up with her girlfriend stands out, showcasing both her humour and vibrancy. This is further elevated when a music video for another track, “Hot Hot Chicken Bags”, plays, adding an extra layer of flair.

JKS: a Comedy(?) review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | fortyfivedownstairs

In JKS: a Comedy(?), five comedians linger in a scrappy pub venue Green Room, killing time between sets by complaining about a tough crowd and taking cheap shots at each other. It’s loose, familiar territory, until the sudden death of a trailblazer in the Australian stand-up scene cracks something open. What begins as banter quickly spirals into a full-blown argument on the limits of comedy, the power of language, and who gets to decide what should, or shouldn’t, be a joke.
 
At the centre of this story are two opposing voices. Jase, a man of colour (Kevin Hofbauer), argues that nothing should be off-limits, that a joke on rape or paedophilia is not endorsing it. For him, comedy is about observation, not approval. On the other side is Alex, a gay, white man (Tom Ballard), who insists that comics have a responsibility to avoid punching down, and that intent does not cancel out impact.

Chookas review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Spielhaus

Three eggs appear on stage. Slowly but surely, they begin to hatch, and out pop three cabaret-loving chicks. It’s best not to dwell on it too much. What follows is an hour of more chicken-themed burlesque, comedy and songs than you can fry. Adore Handel, Mae B. Wilde and Penelope Splendour are our hatchlings, who take us on a wild, ecstatic ride full of energy, cheek, and playful absurdity with Chookas.



The trio are adept at capturing the specific mannerisms of chickens. They display inquisitiveness and a judgmental edge as they reach out to the audience, almost as a challenge or assertion of authority. The way they move and feed off each other and us strongly resembles observing chickens, albeit with clearly exaggerated physicality.

Dinner Hannah Show review | Hannah Camilleri | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Malthouse Theatre

Hannah Camilleri’s new show Dinner Hannah Show takes the audience behind the scenes of a theatre production, giving us a front-row ticket to the chaos and craft of live performance. Through brilliant character work, she combines clowning, improvisation, sketch, and storytelling to create a world that is undeniably strange, but also consistently funny.

The loose plot centres on two key characters who embody this theatrical playground, where ego, art, and absurdity collide. Camilleri’s portrayal of them, along with a few other gems, is a knockout. She captures the essence of inflated egos and artistic ambition with precision, shifting seamlessly between roles. Veronika’s patronising grace and Fondant’s arrogance showcase her versatility across both performance and clowning.