Dinner Hannah Show review | 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.

Feral review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Bard's Apothecary

There are two important people in Jess Fuchs’ life, her psychologist and her psychic, and fortunately, both operate out of the same building. Convenient. While dealing with a recent health concern, their combined advice is simple, she needs to stress less. Easier said than done. Feral is the culmination of these events.

So she packs her bags and, with two friends, heads to exotic Ireland, specifically the Cliffs of Moher. This becomes the starting point for Fuchs to reflect on her experiences and thoughts around sex, body image, religion, mental health, and, somewhat unexpectedly, the Titanic, yes, the ship that sank in 1912.

Local Laws review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Improv Conspiracy

When you work in customer service and the first thing someone says on the phone is, “I have a few things I’d like to talk to you about,” you know it’s never going to end well. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Rose, a local council call centre operator in Local Laws, is up against, stuck in a repetitive cycle where the inane complaints are more punishing than the job itself. But when a random hole appears in the suburb, the calls turn from tedious to intriguing, pulling her into something stranger than the usual stream of grievances. Suddenly, another frustrating day on the phones for Rose becomes more interesting than she expects.



Phillips is completely in her element as both Linda, the pedantic, fussy, serial complainer and Trevor, a Council Team Leader overseeing road works and maintenance. She switches between them with a quick wig change and the shedding of a layer of clothing, but it is her sharply defined physicality and specific mannerisms that set them apart. Linda carries herself with a tight, brittle energy, every movement clipped and deliberate, whereas Trevor is looser and easygoing, with a casual ease that contrasts beautifully. 

Small Poppy review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Malthouse Theatre

Gabbi Bolt is heading back to her high school at the end of the year to accept an award recognising her as one of its most successful alumni. But rather than prompting a moment of joy and pride, the prospect sends her into a spiral of self-doubt, anxiety, and insecurity. And when the world seems to be on the brink of collapse, how is she supposed to keep any of this in perspective?

In Small Poppy, Bolt examines both the state of the world and her own desire for fame. While unpacking the history of "tall poppy syndrome", she lands on the Wikipedia page for Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh and final king of Rome, whose tyrannical rule led to his overthrow and the establishment of the Roman Republic in 509 BCE. He is also often associated with the origin of the phrase "tall poppy".

The First 3 Minutes of 17 Shows review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Melbourne Town Hall

When you buy a ticket to a show, you expect a complete performance. Not so with Abby Wambaugh. Instead, they offer the first three minutes of 17 different shows. What initially feels like a series of disconnected sketches is, in fact, carefully constructed, with Wambaugh deftly weaving together a narrative about family, love, loss, and grief in their debut show, aptly titled The First 3 Minutes of 17 Shows.

The 17 scenes shift constantly in tone and style. Some lean into borderline absurdity, others involve audience participation, and a few take on more traditional forms of stand-up or storytelling. One of the earliest segments sees Wambaugh embodying a vacuum cleaner, an unexpected bit that elicits plenty of laughs. Another, titled "Straight Stand-Up", has them sharing details about their husband and children: amusing, though it seems somewhat inconsequential.

Joke Protocol review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Melbourne Town Hall

The opening to Con Coutis’ Joke Protocol is more thrilling than the start of any Bond or Mission Impossible films. Snappy dialogue, pulsing music, and a barrage of flawless sound effects set the tone immediately, and that is only the beginning. In this new show, Coutis is on a quest to capture the monogag, an object said to make its owner very, very funny.

He begins with a stretch of stand-up that is slightly out of place at first, but later reveals its purpose as he seamlessly weaves the material back into the narrative. His storytelling is rapid and fluid as he tracks down the monogag and attempts to prevent Quibbi - a streaming service which lasted eight months, that made quick, mobile-only shows designed to be watched in bite-sized chunks - from getting their hands on it and using its powers to take over the world. Extremely random but extremely fun too.

Happy Birthday Taylah Whelan review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival The Motley Bauhaus

Taylah Whelan is turning 26. Their mum was pregnant with them at 26, and Whelan is now having something of an existential crisis. Welcome to Happy Birthday Taylah Whelan.

Whelan is surprised to see us all in their house, though they did invite us over to celebrate their birthday, so it’s only natural we’d be there. They are slightly awkward and unsure of what to do, but when they realise the drink they have taken from a friend is called "The drink that makes you reminisce,” there is little left to resist. While they initially fight the urge, it proves futile, and before we, and they, know it, Whelan is on stage, reminiscing.