Conversations with a Fried Egg review | Melbourne Fringe | Meat Market

At some point during Conversations with a Fried Egg, I stopped trying to make sense of what was unfolding before me and simply let it happen. Three rats and an egg debate life, hunger, and purpose in a world that feels both fantastical and oddly familiar. It’s strange, funny in bursts, and tinged with melancholy, but at times, it gets wrapped up in its own absurdism that it leaves you watching from a distance rather than being drawn in.

Absurdist theatre isn’t trying to explain the world, it’s showing what happens when logic falls apart. It puts us right in the middle of the mess and repetition that make up everyday life, the constant hunt for meaning in things that often don’t have any. It’s not really saying life is hopeless, just that it’s kind of ridiculous, and we’re all making it up as we go. The discomfort comes from seeing ourselves in that chaos, laughing one moment and wondering what on earth we’re doing the next.

Gus The Frog Spits Bars (One Man's Response To Existential Dread) review | Melbourne Fringe | The Motley Bauhaus

A frog suddenly finds itself hurled over 100 kilometres from its home in the River Torrens to the Clare Valley, where a mysterious curse is wreaking havoc on its residents and their land, and Gus is determined to get to the bottom of it. Gus the Frog Spits Bars (one man's response to existential dread), created and performed by Angus Leighton, is a wild, fast-paced, and absurdly funny ride, blending rap, inventive storytelling, and pure Fringe exhuberance into an adventure like no other. 

Nobody participates in a Festival because they have to. They do it because they want to. But honestly, if there were an award for the Happiest Fringe Performer, it would without a doubt go to Leighton. Watching him on stage is like catching a glimpse of unadulterated joy in motion. There’s a genuine sparkle in his eyes, a buoyancy in his step, and a warmth in his smile that makes the audience instantly at ease and connect with him.

Requiem for a Cuddle review | Melbourne Fringe | Fitzroy Town Hall

Taking my seat for Requiem for a Cuddle, it was hard not to feel intimidated and curious. I mean it's not every day you walk into a room to be surrounded by an 80-strong choir all wearing black suits, standing still and staring at us. All wearing black balaclavas. It’s this strange, surreal sight that Harrison Ritchie-Jones plays with, blending choral singing, dance and movement, and sound into an experience that sparks a profound sense of community and connection. Amid this eerie, mesmerizing tableau, two human bodies emerge, guiding us into the choreography and linking us intimately and communally.



Paired with Michaela Tancheff, the two perform hypnotic sequences that reveal the intricacies of the body and its remarkable capabilities, their muscles coiling and stretching in seamless rhythm. The support and strength they offer one another to succeed mirrors that which we need in our own lives. At one point, they collapse to the floor in a tight wrap, rolling gracefully down the aisle and through the audience, drawing us into their shared dependence and vulnerability.



A Kingdom of Mushrooms, Five Senses, Infinite Wonder and You review | Melbourne Fringe | Artitude Studios

I love mushrooms. If there’s a meal with mushrooms in it, chances are I’m ordering it - and demolishing it. But I’ve never really thought about mushrooms beyond eating them. Until now. Presented by Off The Spectrum, A Kingdom of Mushrooms, Five Senses, Infinite Wonder and You invites audiences to do exactly what it promises - step into this mysterious, magical world of fungi. This isn’t limited to sight and taste, either. It’s a full-blown sensory trip through the life of mushrooms, engaging all five senses… yes, even sound.

Upon arrival, we’re greeted by our host and co-creator, Jasmin Lefers, who kicks things off by offering us a themed mushroom cocktail. It might be 11am, but this is Melbourne Fringe, so naturally I accept. I opt for the umami martini, infused with shiitake and a touch of ginger. It’s divine, earthy, and with the perfect level of unusual.

Fruition review | Melbourne Fringe | Spielhaus

Cherese Sonkkila loves fruit. And not just as part of her daily five portions of fruit and veggies - she really, truly loves fruit. In Fruition, she takes us on a 60-minute journey of sketch, storytelling, and performance, sharing fascinating facts about fruit and revealing exactly what fuels her excitement and passion.

Sonkkila’s winning performance is enhanced by multiple costume changes, each adding a layer of depth and helping bring her characters to life. These outfits aren’t elaborate or outlandish, but carefully chosen to leave a lasting impression. Her jellyfish costume is especially memorable, and there is a certain visual that will be impossible to shake whenever I next squeeze an orange.

Greeking Out review | Melbourne Fringe | Spielhaus

In Greeking Out, Rebecca Perich steps into the role of Professor Ari, guiding the audience through an energetic and playful lesson in Greek Mythology 101. The show revisits classic tales such as the Minotaur, Theseus, and Ariadne, blending storytelling, audience participation, and visual elements to bring these myths to life. With moments that invite us to interact and engage, the performance balances humour and a curiosity-driven unpacking of stories that have captivated people for centuries.
 
From the outset, it’s unclear what role the audience is meant to have. Are we children in a classroom or adults attending a lecture? We’re instructed to keep our phones off, yet also asked to make pantomime-like call-and-response sound effects as Professor Ari recounts the story of the Minotaur, creating a slightly confusing dynamic.
 
Perich has a lot she wants to explore here, and she covers it all, but it results in too many ideas being left underdeveloped, which undermines the potential depth of the performance. This is most evident when introducing the “layered trifle” method. This alone could have been a robust foundation for a more substantial examination of Greek mythology, instead of a simple rehash of the Minotaur, Theseus, and Ariadne - a familiar narrative even to those with only rudimentary awareness of the myths. A deeper, original angle would have strengthened the show significantly.

Motion Sickness review | Melbourne Fringe | Trades Hall

There’s something exhilarating and nauseating about being alive right now - information flying at us from all directions, our brains struggling to keep up. Motion Sickness, the latest work from a2 company, takes these feelings and turns them into theatre: a charged collision of projections, sound, and language that mirrors the sensory barrage of the digital age. Performed with throbbing live music and restless physicality, it propels its audience to the brink of chaos before pulling them back toward something startlingly visceral.
 
On stage are writer and performer Ben Ashby, and composer and performer Toby Leman. And then Ashby begins sharing thoughts that seem random at first - on marine snow, Sudan, Gaza, telephone companies - but there’s method to the mayhem. It's a lot to take in, but that's the point. There is a lot going on in the world.

How To Art review | Melbourne Fringe | Trades Hall

It’s the age-old question: what is art? Who decides what counts as art? And, more importantly, who dares put a price on it? Okay, that’s more than one question, but I’m the curator of this domain, so I make the rules. In How To Art, two bananas wake up duct taped to a wall inside an art gallery. This hilarious clowning show explores the idea of what gets classified as art and who gets to be the gatekeeper of art.

Katie Burson and Georgie Llewellyn are a pair of bananas taped to a wall. They are called "Banana Split" and they are one of a number of artworks by The Artist hanging in this art gallery. Others include a sculpture of two bumbags each attached to a cigarette called "Can I Bumbag a Smoke?" and "Concentrate", a large opened can of Campbell's tomato soup.

With the gallery closed, and the owner not in the room, the two bananas untape themselves and try to make sense of this world around them. Burson and Llewellyn shine with their clowning. Their physicality, movements, and characterisation are constantly surprising. Each moment builds on what came before, keeping the energy fresh and unpredictable. They are confident in their playful interactions with the audience, and the small improvisations and responses to audience reactions never falter.

Checked Out: The Musical review | Melbourne Fringe | Trades Hall

Don’t we all love an enforced work function? Having to spend even more time with the people you already spend most of your life with? For the weary employees of Woles, a “lavish” celebration from head office looms ever closer as they struggle to balance their chaotic personal lives with the daily grind of supermarket employment. Written by Josh Connell (also Musical Director) and Steph Lee (also Director), Checked Out: The Musical shines a spotlight on the harsh realities of five workers contending with rude customers, a profit-obsessed boss, and the angry backlash of price gouging. There’s only one way they are going to get through it - with song. Several of them, in fact.

Sincere Apologies review | Melbourne Fringe | Trades Hall

Sincere Apologies begins unassumingly: an envelope is handed to an audience member and it is passed from hand to hand. No words are exchanged, no introduction is made, no actors are present. It’s just a low-key game of “pass the parcel” that opens the door to a chorus of voices and a world of regret.

Fifty real apologies are sealed inside fifty envelopes that are distributed to the audience. These span from 1990 all the way into the future, each one factual and collected from documented expressions of remorse by public figures, private correspondence, and personal moments by the shows three creators, Dan Koop, Jamie Lewis and David Williams. One by one, in numerical order, audience members step up to a microphone and read them aloud.

Some are weighty and political - a Prime Minister’s apology to the Stolen Generation or BP’s statement following an oil spill. Others tap into pop culture’s hall of infamy - like Kanye West and Taylor Swift. Then, there are the apologies from the creators themselves, adding a deeper intimate layer to the mix.

Imp! (One Man, Many Parts) review | Melbourne Fringe | The Motley Bauhaus

Scott Middleton’s Imp! (One Man, Many Parts) is a bold and imaginative physical theatre piece that adapts Shakespeare’s iconic “All the world’s a stage” monologue into a playful, clown-driven exploration of life’s absurdities, loves, struggles, and surprises. He demonstrates a remarkable ability to inhabit multiple guises, inviting the audience into a whirlwind of humour, heart, and theatrical brilliance.



The monologue captures the seven stages of life - from infancy to old age - with each person cast as a player performing in the theatre of life. It is both a meditation on the cycle of life and a wry commentary on the roles we adopt, the masks we wear, and the fleeting nature of our time on this planet. By opening with this text, Middleton acknowledges the timeless theme of “life as performance”, while signalling he will be toying with identity and the comedy and tragedy of everyday life.



Intolerant review | Melbourne Fringe | Spielhaus

Intolerant invites its new recruits (the audience) to Anaphylaxis Diner for a tongue-in-cheek orientation session, ensuring they’re fully across the menu and its many substitutions for every dietary allergy and intolerance. After all, before you can serve a meal, you need to make sure your customers leave alive. Guided by our no-nonsense boss and chef, Anna Phylaxis (Uma Dobia), we’re taken through a seven-step induction that’s equal parts funny and unsettlingly real.

Trained as a soprano, Dobia brings her extraordinary voice to a show that cleverly blends cabaret-style wit with sharp insights into living with severe allergies. The fusion of opera and pop is thoroughly entertaining - it’s where she shines brightest with some exceptional original songs, including the perfect ballad "Is It Any Wonder". Her presence is enhanced by a striking blue-and-orange dress with matching make-up and accessories, adding a playful and vibrant visual layer to the performance.

The Worm review | Melbourne Fringe | The Motley Bauhaus

Taylah has come out of a rut and is ready to celebrate - by meeting new people and throwing herself back into the dating game. In The Worm, Taylah Whelan takes us on a semi-autobiographical adventure filled with awkward encounters, self-reflection, and plenty of heart. While shows on dating are plentiful at Fringe, Whelan brings a fresh and engaging perspective, packed with witty, self-deprecating observations about life - and love - in Melbourne’s northern suburbs.

Her dates include an extremely attractive man who turns out to be utterly awful, and an aspiring screenwriter who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from her phone. Both outings give Whelan opportunities to explore how Taylah responds to these situations, featuring a brilliantly funny off-stage scene involving a rather wicked orgasm.

CAKE - Late Bite review | Melbourne Fringe | Meat Market

Cake - Late Bite serves up an hour of gleeful anarchy and creative indulgence, brimming with pizzazz and flair. It’s loud, unapologetic and unpredictable - a night that values attitude over polish, and joy over order. Led by our host, Memphis Belle, we’re treated to a collection of circus, burlesque and drag that titillate and tease. Full of cheeky disorder, Cake - Late Bite is a proud celebration of identity and self-expression in all its forms.

Serenity brings a spark of personality and wit with a lively and self-assured drag act that earns instant bonus points for opening with a lip sync from my favourite film. Zach Johnson shifts the tone with a short but thrilling balancing act involving a bottle, a balloon and a paddle held in his mouth. It’s the kind of performance that has you holding your breath, because one millimetre off and it would all go south, yet he keeps it perfectly steady.

Birds review | Melbourne Fringe | Meat Market

From the second Birds takes flight, it’s clear this isn’t your typical beach getaway. With sharp wit, absurd scenarios, and a darkly playful edge, the show sets up a world that’s equal parts hilarious and unsettling. It's perfectly primed for Alex Hines and Sarah Stafford to deliver performances brimming with nihilistic humour and outrageous awareness.

The pair may be portraying ladies who’ve traded lunch for a beachside drink, yet they’re still very much in their (questionable) designer kaftans and planning their own brunches. Hines plays Shayna, a wealthy five-time divorcee who has lost her entire family to a blimp accident, but couldn’t care less. Stafford’s Beverley, on the other hand, is a mother of twelve boys who has escaped to the beach in frustration after her husband ruined her birthday. This unlikely friendship sees the ladies supporting one another through some of the toughest periods of their lives, from running out of sunscreen to guessing what the secret sound is on Smyle and Smacki-O’s radio program.

DECADENCE: 10 Years of YUMMY review | Melbourne Fringe | Meat Market

It's hard to believe that Yummy is in its 10th year of delivering wildly entertaining and daring cabaret. Led by the charismatic Valerie Hex, its collection of drag, circus, and burlesque has toured the world to rave reviews from audiences and critics. Their 10-year anniversary show, Decadence, winks at indulgence and excess, but beneath the sparkles and spectacle lies a decade of dedication, heart, and artistry.



Over the years, Yummy has welcomed a huge roster of talent, and it’s been a fantastic launching pad for emerging and guest artists, while also retaining most of its original, well-established crew, including Jandruze, Hannie Helsden, and Bendy Ben. And we get them all here. Bendy Ben continues to impress with beautifully choreographed drag routines, featuring one from the company’s very first production that remains mesmerising and unexpectedly emotionally. Jandruze’s performance to Detroit Grand Pubah’s "Sandwiches" is a Yummy classic, and a thrilling fire act where flames highlighting every movement as they dance dangerously close to their body. Helsden’s hula hoop act injects high-energy, unashamedly fun chaos to the evening.



Jester's Privilege review | Melbourne Fringe | Trades Hall

In Handful of Bugs’ Jester’s Privilege, the fool steps off the stage and into the shadows, revealing not the radiance of wit, but the weight that lingers after the laughter dies away. A jester returns to his room after entertaining the court, appearing despondent, frustrated, and weary. Over the course of the evening, he is visited by various members of the Queen’s court. Gradually, we begin to understand what troubles him: his own mortality and the unsettling dread that he has delivered his final joke.

Alex Donnelly and Lachie Gough are a brilliant artistic duo, but when they share a stage, their chemistry generates an additional spark of mischievous playfulness. Here, Gough assumes the role of the tired jester, and he illustrates the character’s inner turmoil with nuance and patience, allowing the unravelling to unfold naturally. This measured approach draws the audience in, which makes us lean closer to the performance. Donnelly takes on a range of secondary characters, from the Queen’s Guard to a Lord to the Queen’s Groom of the Stable, each clearly defined and adding dynamic contrast to the piece.

The Importance of Being Earnest as Performed by Three F*cking Queens and a Duck review | Melbourne Fringe | Theatre Works

The Importance of Being Earnest as Performed by Three F*cking Queens and a Duck is a play within a play, following three fabulously bitchy thespians as they attempt to mount Oscar Wilde’s classic The Importance of Being Earnest. But what happens when you put a trio of queens with equally towering egos and insecurities together? Absolute bedlam.

Written by Steven Dawson, with only splashes of Oscar Wilde woven through, this isn’t a camp(er) retelling of Earnest - no, no, no, no. It’s very much its own beast.

There are arguments over who gets to wear Lady Bracknell’s dress, and debates about how to reinterpret the scenes. If you want to see Earnest acted in the style of kabuki and Chekhov, you're in the right place. The rehearsal process is as hilarious as it is anarchic. The challenge they face in condensing a two-hour production into 90, then 45 minutes ratchets up the tension, pushing these queens into greater ridiculous antics.

Adam Snakes: No Experience Necessary review | Melbourne Fringe | The Motley Bauhaus

Timothy Knight steps into the role of Adam Snakes, an affable barista serving flat whites at a cafe inside a petrol station while dreaming of life as a comedian. His solution? Stage a stand-up show right there at work. Adam Snakes: No Experience Necessary is a gentle set about doing what you love, and realising happiness doesn’t always come from chasing traditional ideas of greatness.

Knight - or Adam? - has an easy warmth and sharp eye for observation. He’s the kind of person you could chat with until 3am about anything from kebabs to Kant, and he’d be genuinely interested. His commentary on negative space and its permanence proves that the raw material is there, but it needs a little tightening, and a clearer sense of narrative, to really shine. 

Too much of the routine doesn’t flow from one anecdote to the next. A story about having crab soup in Vietnam ends awkwardly but also doesn't line up with what follows. Adam might be green to comedy, but Knight isn’t, and finding a thread between crab soup, awkward coffee orders, and his larger aspirations would give the work a firmer backbone. There are a few continuity errors with Adam's life, where at one point he tells us he still lives with his parents but then later states he lives with his girlfriend.