Recovering Eldest Daughter review | Rachel Tunaley | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Spielhaus

Through centuries of daughterhood, the eldest daughter has been destined (or cursed?) for a life of perfectionism, high achievement, and anxiety. Rachel Tunaley is no different, as the eldest daughter of her family. However, when her sibling comes out as transgender, she believes she has been freed from the expectations that once defined her. Little does she know. In her new cabaret, Recovering Eldest Daughter, Tunaley takes the audience on a candid, humorous, and personal journey through mental health, identity, and the process of unlearning lifelong pressures as she searches for who she is beyond the role she was raised to fulfil.



Now the middle sister, Tunaley gleefully visits the Prophet of the Eldest Daughter to relinquish the eldest daughter label, only to be informed that too much time has passed and the title cannot simply be given away. No, there is only one way this can happen. She must learn to heal her inner child. Easier said than done. This prompts her to examine her past behaviours, thoughts, and relationships, confronting the patterns that have shaped her and the anxieties she has long carried.

Little Devil and the War Machine | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Little Devil and the War Machine is set during the peak of political instability in Renaissance Italy, when Florence was frequently involved in conflicts and shifting alliances. This reimagining draws on the spirit of commedia dell’arte to explore the dynamics between four key figures, intellectual inventor Leonardo da Vinci, political strategist Niccolò Machiavelli, military ruler Cesare Borgia, and the mischievous apprentice Gian Giacomo Caprotti (Salai).



Rather than a straightforward historical retelling, the production reinterprets the era through a queer lens, questioning how identity and power are constructed. With mask work, bold physicality, and scenes of heightened comedy, it builds a vivid interplay of relationships where status, desire, and power are constantly negotiated onstage.



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.

Feral review | Jess Fuchs | 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 | Elyce Phillips & Rose Bishop | 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.



Elyce 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 | Gabbi Bolt | 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 | Abby Wambaugh | 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 | Con Coutis | 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 | Taylah Whelan | 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.

Blizzard review | Piotr Sikora | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

At 2024's Melbourne International Comedy Festival, people would not stop telling me to see Piotr Sikora’s clown show Furiozo: Man Looking For Trouble. Naturally, I missed it. I did eventually catch it later that year at Edinburgh Fringe, and from that point on, Sikora locked himself onto my must-see list. So when I learnt he was bringing a work-in-progress, Blizzard, to this year’s Melbourne Comedy Festival, I was properly excited.

We follow a Polish soldier on a strange, snow-covered journey. There’s a lot of snow. And an orange. And a creature of sorts. For the most part, the work is silent, with fragments of Polish and very little English. But Sikora’s ability to tell a clear, compelling narrative without relying on language is where the magic really sits, everything is communicated through physical comedy, audience play, and a constant (non-verbal) dialogue with the room.

Squid's Sunday Sideshow review | Samora Squid | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Tote

Samora Squid has been a sideshow freak artist for over 25 years, and it is now, at this year's Melbourne International Comedy Festival, that they are presenting their first solo show with Squid's Sunday Sideshow.

The show opens with a straightforward triple dislocation of their arm. Yes, really. They then shake it all about like they just don’t care. As the performance progresses, it becomes increasingly challenging to watch the things Squid does to their body. It’s an intense experience at such close proximity. That said, I noticed I was one of the few people covering my eyes or looking away -  perhaps I’m more of a wuss than others. Although there was one guy who gasped "what the fuck!"

Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex To My Mum) review | James Barr | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trades Hall

If you’re expecting gay comedian James Barr to deliver a steady stream of dick jokes in Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex To My Mum), a show built around the domestic abuse and trauma he experienced at the hands of his partner, well… you’d be right. But what’s striking is how effortlessly that humour is folded into the piece. The jokes don’t undercut the story, they sit alongside it, disarming the audience just enough to let the harder beats land.

Barr begins lightly, walking us through his search for Prince Charming, recounting a series of dates before arriving at the night he met Chris at a Spice Girls concert. It’s framed as a turning point, the moment he thought that two souls would become one.

Too Clowns review | Damien Warren-Smith | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Most people will recognise Garry Starr more readily than Damien Warren-Smith himself. Garry is Warren-Smith’s over-the-top comedic persona, known for high-energy, absurd productions that parody classic works through exaggerated, physical, and deliberately chaotic storytelling. His show Classic Penguins is currently playing at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, and you would be mad to miss it. But Warren-Smith is presenting a work-in-progress during the festival, offering audiences a chance to see another side to his clowning and performance style.

Too Clowns is a silent clown show that explores loneliness, with chalk-written words reading “Bella + Puzzo” introducing us to the characters. Puzzo arrives upbeat and ready to go, but Bella is nowhere to be seen. The show must go on, so Puzzo turns to the full-house at the 11pm showing to help fill the gap. What sets Too Clown apart is its commitment to silence and audience dependency, using participation not as a novelty but as the core structure of the piece, where the performance genuinely shifts based on who steps up.

Trout review | Kate Dolan | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Malthouse Theatre

in 2025 Kate Dolan opened her Melbourne Comedy Festival show, The Critic, as a plant. This year, she begins as a trout, a dancing trout, while wearing a trout mask. And this time, the show is about trout, fish in general, and the idea that life might be simpler, easier, if she were one. Unsurprisingly, the show is called Trout.
 
Dolan is a stand-up comedian, but this performance marks a complete 180-degree turn from what she presented last year. For starters, there is some contemporary dancing and some rapping. But the most noticeable change is Dolan herself. The shift feels amplified by the larger Malthouse space, which seems to give her the space to expand her presence and lean into a bigger, more unrestrained energy. Dolan uses the entire stage, constantly in motion, swinging her hips, and jumping between beats with a physicality that drives the rhythm. She is loud, erratic, and deliberately so, channelling that unpredictability into a style that appears loose at first glance but is structured underneath.

Nosferatu Looking For Love review | Rhiannon McCall | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Nosferatu, we’re told, is the German word for “sexy bachelor”, and that sets the mood perfectly for Nosferatu Looking For Love. Tired of his old life, this infamous vampire is chasing a sea change, heading to Australia with two clear ambitions, to become a star and to finally find a partner.

From the instant Rhiannon McCall appears, the character is fully realised. Dressed in black with stark white makeup, sunken eyes, exaggerated brows, a bald cap and pointed ears, the look is striking without being overdone. The hunched neck is a particularly nice touch, subtle but effective, adding to the physicality.

Evil Dead the Musical review | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Chapel Off Chapel

You just can't keep a good Deadite down. It's been 45 years since The Evil Dead was unleashed on cinema goers. In that time, we've had sequels, reboots and reimaginings, including a musical that was first staged in 2003. And now this cult classic has made its way to Australia, and what a ride it is. With Book and Lyrics by George Reinblatt, Evil Dead the Musical leans all the way into the madness, chainsaw in hand, splattering its way through the source material with a knowing wink, buckets of blood (literally), and enough self-awareness to make the whole thing horrifically brilliant.

Five college students: the hero, his best-friend, his girlfriend, his sister and ... Shelly, decide to spend the week in an abandoned cabin in the woods with no one knowing where they are. What could go wrong, they knowingly ask. Apart from freeing a demonic force after reciting a few ill-advised incantations, and *spoiler* watching your friends lose their souls and having to brutally kill them.

Best House Party Ever review | Roxie Halley & Michele Owen | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

In 2008, Melbourne ended up in the global spotlight when 16-year-old Corey Worthington threw a house party that got wildly out of hand. His parents were away, and after posting an open invite on MySpace, over 500 people showed up to his suburban home. Total madness.
 
Now, he might want to keep an eye out, because two Nunawading locals are ready to make him old(er) news. In Best House Party Ever, best mates Big Mike and DJ JayJay, somewhere in their 30s and 40s, see an empty house as an opportunity. The moment DJ JayJay’s mum heads out, it’s game on. There’s booming music, questionable life choices, and the kind of party energy that escalates rapidly.

Lobster in a Glass review | Jenna Suffern | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Every now and again, life decides to absolutely wreck your plans, your ambitions, and your carefully curated sense of self. In Lobster in a Glass, Jenna Suffern dives headfirst into those moments, drawing comedy from the chaos when things go slightly or spectacularly wrong. Across the hour, she revisits a series of derailments, shaping them into sharp, engaging anecdotes.



From a career-ending sports injury in school to realising she was gay and later non-binary, Suffern’s life has been stopped in its tracks more than once, requiring several realignments along the way. Through it all, she mines these disruptions for humour, turning detours into stories that are recognisable and somewhat absurd.

Articulate review | Gumboot Theatre Company | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

There’s nothing like a board game to bring out the best - or worst - in people. In Articulate, two share houses come together for their annual tradition: a fierce game night where the stakes are simple but brutal. The losing team must display a photo of the winners on their fridge - a daily reminder of their defeat and inability to guess even the simplest words.

In one corner we have the reigning champions: Tilly, Nadia and Jules: confident, composed, and fully expecting to take out the title once again. On the other are Lilo, Ben and Rommy, who are more than prepared. Warmed up and ready, they’re determined to prove they have what it takes to claim victory this year. The way each household is seen preparing for the evening is well directed and executed by the cast. 

Mrs Lovett’s Famous Meat Pies Grand Reopening Extravaganza review | Elliot Wood | 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 | Abigail Banister-Jones | 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 | Matt Bell | 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.

Someday We’ll Find It review | Meat Market

Where can you swim with pigs on the beach? It’s one of the many questions Zachary Sheridan hurls into the void of the internet in Someday We’ll Find It. Over a tight 50 minutes, the work makes clever use of its time, playing with form and structure to probe our compulsive need to search for answers online. Some questions are absurd, some surprisingly profound, and others sit in the realm of the unanswerable, yet all speak to that endless, almost instinctive urge to keep typing, scrolling, and seeking.

Sheridan’s performance is notably restrained and grounded, a deliberate and necessary choice for a solo work built on such an unrelenting stream of text. Carrying long passages without pause, he allows rhythm and accumulation do the heavy lifting without over-performing. The stillness and control required to sustain that tone indicates a performer who understands exactly when to hold back. In doing so, he creates opportunities for the audience to project meaning onto the questions themselves, turning what could easily be repetitive into something absorbing, and at times, unexpectedly affecting.

Eva Seymour on the comedy of waiting in the wings | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Eva Seymour’s The Understudy shines a hilarious and unflinching light on the backstage world, as we follow an understudy juggling nerves, endless preparation, and the strange suspense of being ready to step in at a moment’s notice. We spoke to Seymour about crafting this performance, laughing through the mayhem, and how the show resonates far beyond the stage.

The Understudy centres on the long wait that comes with being on call, unfolding into a deeper dive of what it means to be an actor, largely defined by job insecurity and the shifting demands of the industry. "Writing a show about understudying made me realise it’s a microcosm of the actor’s life," Seymour explains. "Waiting for the call as an offstage cover puts you at the whim of many things beyond your control, and you have to do mental gymnastics just to manage the anxiety. Actors are constantly doing that, whether they admit it or not. You can follow every rule, make every 'right' choice, and still not be where you want to be. That uncertainty, the missed opportunities, and the sacrifices it requires - sometimes it strains relationships, makes you question yourself, and reminds you how much of your life gets put on hold for work you may never even do."

Laughing through sharehouse horrors with Amelia Pawsey | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trainscendence

Amelia Pawsey has spent years immersed in Melbourne’s performing arts community, thriving in ensemble work and collaborating with a range of directors and artists. Now, she’s stepping out on her own with her first solo production, Love Letter to Heephah, a playful and poignant blend of comedy and songwriting drawn from her experiences in a share house where everyday moments of chaos, absurdity, and everything in between are revealed with humour, honesty, and a bit of mischief.

"I absolutely cherish ensemble work, in particular, within the Melbourne independent theatre scene. I have worked with many talented artists since graduating drama school and have always felt inspired by the work of Aussie creatives! I've had a lingering thought for years to give stand-up a go but I've been too scared to back myself, making excuses why I wouldn't be good at it," she explains. "Then this year I thought, that's not a valid reason to not try something! It was in conversation with my housemates about Heephah the random fox statue in our living room, where I realised I could combine my passion of songwriting with stand-up, that Love Letter To Heephah was born, and I could not be more excited to share this with MICF audiences."

The Pandas of The Adelaide Zoo review | Cub Voltaire

Two giant pandas, Fu Ni and Wang Wang, are trapped in captivity at Adelaide Zoo, staring down the ultimate ticking clock: Fu Ni’s three-day mating window. Zookeeper Trev and ranger Hayley are on high alert, praying these bamboo-loving divas finally produce the cubs everyone’s been waiting for. But will Fu Ni embrace motherhood or reject Wang Wang for the elusive, commitment-phobic male nature has said he is? In The Pandas of the Adelaide Zoo, Ryan Smith turns a true story into a whimsical, slightly tragic comedy of errors, where these pandas’ romantic misadventures are as endearing as they are exasperating.

Smith’s script tells two stories in parallel. One follows Wang Wang (Smith) and Fu Ni (Elizabeth Harvey) as they pass their hours, days, and years within the zoo, relying on nothing but each other for company. The second traces Trev and Hayley (Jake McNamara and Charli Lewis) as they record an episode of Totally Wilderness, observing the pandas, with each person bringing their own intentions, curiosities, and emotions to the encounter.

Mature Skin review | Northcote Town Hall

Written by Gabrielle Fallen, Mature Skin traces the charged connection between Paul, a successful cis gay fragrance designer in his 40s, and Jasmine, a young trans woman and retail worker who sells his products. A chance encounter in the bathroom of a work event quickly deepens, leading them into a relationship that probes passion, kink, fetishisation, queerness, trans identity, and shifting power dynamics. The play navigates intimacy and attraction, highlighting the vulnerability and complexity of their interactions.



Peter Paltos and Bailey Ackling Beecham bring an affecting chemistry, built on a tension that sits somewhere along seduction and resistance. Their characters circle one another with a mixture of fascination and discomfort, and the actors maintain that equilibrium with poise. The result is a volatile entanglement, where magnetism and hesitation are never quite separate.

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 | The 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."

Opera for the Dead | 祭歌 review | Arts House

Eight hours before stepping into Opera for the Dead | 祭歌, I had been at a funeral. It was a death that arrives without warning, even after a life well-lived. By the time I entered the space at Art House, the weight of the day had settled in. Rather than wondering how I might react, I found myself acutely aware of the strange symmetry, moving from a real farewell into an immersive exploration on life and death.

Created by Mindy Meng Wang and Monica Lim, the work fuses music, visuals and technology into a contemporary Chinese cyber-opera that is both ancient and strikingly modern. Before the show begins, the audience is gathered into a “waiting room”. Chanting hums through the space, cyclical and meditative, while an electronic sign suspended above us flashes the word REMEMBER, its glow washing over us like a quiet instruction. The atmosphere is deliberate, balanced between worlds.

Hear My Eyes - Terminator 2: Judgment Day review | Arts Centre Melbourne

It’s been roughly 20 years since I last watched Terminator 2. And it's been a decade since I last stepped into a Hear My Eyes presentation, back when they paired Xavier Dolan’s Heartbeats with an amazing live score by Melbourne’s GL. Both unforgettable. Both somehow left sitting in the “I need to revisit that” pile. Well, consider that rectified. Hear My Eyes have resurrected Terminator 2 and strapped it to a live, pulse-rattling score by Belgian electronic heavyweight Peter Van Hoesen. What this evening offers isn't just a rewatch, it’s a complete sensory overhaul. It's a blockbuster icon colliding with brooding, atmospheric techno. Propelled by electronic sound and framed by a laser show, it gives the film a new intensity and presence.

Terminator 2 is a classic, but this isn’t about revisiting it, it’s about the experience Hear My Eyes have built around it, starting with the music. Van Hoesen brings over four decades of expertise to the performance. Generally a solo artist, for this event he is joined by the Melbourne Electronic Sound Studio (MESS) Synthesiser Ensemble, gathered around a purpose-built liquid metal style table, where they, alongside lighting artist Robin Fox, perform and shape the sound and light in real time.

Harley Dasey is facing demons and songs in Evil Dead the Musical | Melbourne International Comedy Festival |Chapel Off Chapel

Blood, chainsaws, and demonic mayhem have never sounded so infectious. Evil Dead: The Musical turns the cult horror franchise into a high-energy, over-the-top stage spectacle. In this whirlwind of gore, comedy, and camp, we spoke with Harley Dasey as he prepares to step into the legendary shoes of Ash, bringing the chainsaw-wielding hero to life for a new generation of terrified - and thoroughly entertained - audiences.

While initially not fan of the Evil Dead franchise, it didn't take long for Dasey to succumb to the allure of all that is ancient and evil. "I didn’t even know what The Evil Dead was besides the title, but I am absolutely hooked now," he tells me. "I don’t have a particular moment where I had an epiphany that this was the show for me, but I do remember reading the script, listening to the music, watching clips from the movies and other productions on YouTube and thinking 'this is ridiculous… I love it'. The musical is certainly wild, and that is my favourite kind of show. Having now watched the films and immersed myself deeper in the world of the Evil Dead, I couldn't be more excited."

Ryan Smith is letting pandas show us what it means to be human | Club Voltaire

In a world where pandas talk, romance comes with deadlines, and absurdity meets empathy, Ryan Smith’s The Pandas of the Adelaide Zoo takes audiences on a delightfully unique journey. Blending facts with embellishments, the play explores the quirks of animal behaviour while holding up a mirror to human relationships and pressures through the lives of two pandas. In this interview, Smith chats to us on why talking pandas, romance on demand, and a little nonsense can reveal much about human behaviour.

This is an “almost true” story, and while it sticks to the essence of real-life events, some creative liberties were taken, including, but not limited to, giving the pandas the ability to talk. "Well I guess the biggest liberty was that pandas don't talk. Our pandas do, they talk a lot," Smith tells me. "This was one of those plays that began with a one-line gag and then the more I pulled at the thread the more intriguing it became. I was constantly researching the breeding habits of pandas (my search history is bizarre and a little concerning) and the more I learnt the more I said 'well that has to be in the show'."

Robot Song review | Theatre Works

Robot Song is an emotionally driven theatrical work that weaves live music, inventive design, and impressive robotics to explore childhood isolation, creativity, and the search for identity. Eleven-year-old Juniper May receives a letter signed by her entire class declaring her “the most hated person in the school.” It becomes a catalyst for her unravelling as she struggles to understand why this has happened and how she is meant to cope. Based on a true story and created by writer and director Jolyon James, the production presents a lived-in world that draws the audience into the experiences of a young person navigating a challenging moment in their life.

At the heart of the production is a striking performance from Adeline Hunter, who convincingly captures the temperament and attitude of eleven-year-old Juniper without slipping into bratty exaggeration or sugary sweetness. Her portrayal feels grounded and truthful, allowing the emotional stakes to land with quiet force, including an expressive vocal performance that transforms each moment into something personal and affecting. Phillip McInnes shares a tender and believable bond as Juniper's father, where their scenes together are filled with warmth and affection that anchor the story’s emotional core.

Piper's Playhouse review | Crown Melbourne

Going up the escalators to the entrance of Piper’s Playhouse is the beginning of an exhilarating and entertaining night in a Parisian cabaret club. It feels like stepping into a velvet-lined time capsule where glamour, mischief, and a hint of rebellion swirl together in the dim light, kicking-off with small morsels to awaken the senses and stir anticipation ahead of the evening’s grand reveal.

Revellers roam the makeshift halls, pausing for fleeting peep shows in hidden booths, whimsical bubble acts, and the promise of momentary absolution through confession. Champagne is already flowing via surprising means and a roving magician enchants with feats of close-up illusion.