The Nightline review | Malthouse Theatre

It's 2am and you're wide awake, the world is sleeping but you are staring at the ceiling, trapped inside your own head. Do you read a book? Watch TV? Lie there? Thanks to Roslyn Oades and Bob Scott, there was another option: call The Nightline and leave a recorded message about why you're still up. How are you feeling? What’s running through your mind? After receiving hundreds of anonymous messages, the immersive show The Nightline was born, where audience members can listen to these recordings and get caught up in the lives of strangers. The show had the initial bad luck of opening during COVID-19 and ran for one night before being shut down. Five years later, it returns to Melbourne for a full season at the Malthouse Theatre.

The Jungle and the Sea review | Melbourne Theatre Company

The Jungle and the Sea is an incredibly moving story of family, love and survival set during the Sri Lankan Civil War. Co-writers and directors S. Shakthidharan and Eamon Flack follow a Tamil family at three pivotal periods, 1995, 2009 and the present, as war, separation and loss repeatedly test their ability to stay together. It is an ambitious production that takes us from Sri Lanka to Australia and through some of the most devastating moments in this household’s lives, without losing sight of the relationships being presented. What makes it so powerful is the way it draws us into their world, making the human cost of the conflict impossible to ignore.

The show opens in 1995, when Sri Lanka is in the middle of a civil war that would last another 14 years. The conflict had already been raging for 12 years and would continue for 26 years, ending on May 18, 2009, with a military victory by the government over the separatist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), commonly known as the Tamil Tigers. A victory that cost the lives of an estimated 80,000 to 100,000 people. Shakthidharan and Flack then return to these characters in 2009 as the fighting comes to an end, before bringing us into the present. It’s a story that takes nearly three hours to tell, but we become so invested into their lives that it feels like almost no time has passed.

Cut Chilli review | Darebin Arts Speakeasy

Intercountry adoption is often framed through the language of love, family and giving a child a better life. But beneath those good intentions are complicated issues about identity, culture, belonging and the stories we lose about where we come from. Written by Chenturan Aran, Cut Chilli explores these through Jamie, who was abandoned as a baby in Sri Lanka and raised by his adoptive parents in Western Australia. Now, as an adult, he begins to question the story he has been told about his past, particularly after falling for Zahra, an activist and podcaster.

Early in the play, Jamie makes plans to return to Sri Lanka in search of the parts of his identity that have been missing, with Zahra documenting the journey for her podcast, Decolonising My Boyfriend. What starts as an attempt to uncover the truth about his adoption soon becomes something far more confronting, forcing him to reconsider his relationship with his parents Katherine and Lee, his connection to his birth culture and the foundations on which his family has been built. Cut Chilli places these uncomfortable issues alongside the familiar chaos of family life, where love, tension, humour, and secrets can all occupy the same dinner table.

Break of Day review | Malthouse Theatre

Every night, Pam clocks on at the world’s largest online retail warehouse, packing parcels in a town where employment prospects are increasingly scarce. It’s a thankless, low-paying and dead-end job, but most residents in Burra Creek have no other option. In Steve Rodgers’ Break of Day, we follow Pam, her daughter Rae and others, as they fight to avoid becoming invisible in a place where they have been forgotten.

While Pam works away at the warehouse, Rae is desperately trying to complete a high school essay on Lolita. With no internet, a computer on its last legs, a boyfriend more focused on his own dreams and a drunk grandfather to contend with, completing her assignment feels almost impossible.

Marginalia review | fortyfivedownstairs

There are few things more absurd than a man discovering that his nose has left his face, taken on a life of its own and somehow become more socially important than he is. Yet Marginalia manages to make Nikolai Gogol's The Nose seem almost restrained. Pummel Squad's wildly inventive adaptation takes the story and throws it into a blender, transforming its inherent ridiculousness into something visually extravagant, manic, and unruly.

The production wastes little time establishing its unique rhythm. Tyler, a barber, spends the entirety of Fatboy Slim's "Right Here, Right Now" running in circles around the stage, completely committed and visibly present. When the music stops, he turns to the audience and speaks about the tension between his career as a hairdresser and his passion for art, clearly setting the tone for what is about to unfold.

CreepyPasta review | Dancehouse

Once confined to internet message boards and YouTube narration channels, creepypasta has steadily entered the mainstream, most recently through the release of Backrooms. These eerie tales of liminal spaces, conspiracies and inexplicable horrors have become a defining form of modern folklore. Harrison Hall's CreepyPasta draws on that tradition, using dance, sound and media to examine the anxieties lurking beneath our constantly connected lives.

CreepyPasta opens with a striking sequence. A lone performer (Nikki Tarling) is tethered to a rope that disappears into the darkness above. She moves with slow, precise fluidity under a solitary spotlight. Shiv Geaney's lighting sends red laser beams slicing through the space towards the audience, while Mat Spisbah's pulsing, heartbeat-like soundscape builds a sense of foreboding. Tarling's body is the only human presence in an environment consumed by screens, attempting to resist invisible forces pulling at her. Harrison Hall soon joins her, with the pair navigating various physical and multimedia encounters that push the boundaries between dance, performance art and digital installation.

Saplings review | Arts Centre Melbourne

Young people rarely enter the youth justice system because of a single bad decision. More often, they're shaped by circumstances beyond their control, the adults who fail them, and institutions that struggle to offer the support they need. Hannah Belanszky's Saplings - which is drawn from workshops and interviews with incarcerated youths - places those realities centre stage, inviting audiences to reconsider the labels and see the people underneath.

The vignettes introduce us to different young people in different situations, yet they are all intrinsically connected. A teenager is questioned by police after breaching his bail to buy instant noodles, while another group of friends who have just broken into a house cling to doli incapax, the legal principle that children under a certain age are presumed incapable of understanding right and wrong.

Funeral Flowers review | Red Stitch

Seventeen year-old Angelique dreams of becoming a florist, sparked by the creativity and tenderness of crafting stems and petals into something extraordinary. Yet while she learns to cultivate beauty, she must navigate a world shaped by poverty, racism and the care system. Inspired by the life of Tottenham community leader Gina Moffatt, Emma Dennis-Edwards' Funeral Flowers transforms a deeply personal story into a rich portrait of the people and relationships in Angelique's life, filled with vivid storytelling and sharply observed characterisation.

Told from Angelique's perspective, the script depicts an entire community from a single voice, introducing family members, carers, teachers and friends with assured clarity. It balances humour and heartbreak, making room for warmth and optimism to flourish without diminishing the harsh realities of Angelique's circumstances.

Celebrating 30 Years of Finucane & Smith at Luna Park

Hip hip hooray! Finucane & Smith are turning 30, and naturally, they’re celebrating in the only way they know how: with a gloriously unrestrained carnival of cabaret, burlesque, music, dance, comedy, glamour, chaos and more than a little bit of diva.

Over the past 30 years, Finucane & Smith have created 36 full-length shows, performed across 19 countries, toured 160 Australian towns, entertained more than a million audience members and collected 21 awards along the way. Not bad for a company that has done it all without a penny of ongoing funding.

To mark three decades of making wildly inventive, genre-defying art, the company is returning to Melbourne's iconic Luna Park for Dance Palace, a month-long party running every weekend from mid-August. Dance Palace will bring together a dazzling cast of performers for an event that promises, in true Finucane & Smith fashion, to be anything but predictable. Expect pub rock queens, Bollywood love gods, torch singers, burlesque artists, First Nations performers, gothic legends, live painting, flying pants and plenty of surprises along the way.

Ahead of the glorious mayhem to come, we spoke to a dozen of the 30 performers taking part in Dance Palace about the show, the company, and what makes Finucane & Smith such a singular force in Australian performance.

VISTA review | Malthouse Theatre

What if you could watch the same story twice, but see something completely different the second time? This is the intriguing premise of Stephanie Lake's new dance work VISTA, which presents two acts as two contrasting versions of the same reality. The first is a precise, monochromatic world of dynamic physicality, music and light. After the interval, this previously seen world returns in a bold burst of colour, with familiar movements and ideas transformed by a fresh perspective. Through this clever structural conceit, VISTA challenges the audience to reconsider what they think they know. As choreography, relationships and images return in altered forms, the work demonstrates how dramatically context can change our understanding of an experience.

Our Seventh String review | The Motley Bauhaus

In Our Seventh String, six friends and former housemates reunite at their Melbourne sharehouse after seven years apart. Over the course of the evening, long-held rivalries, love confessions, heartbreaks, and old resentments are reopened as the group contends with the changes they have all undergone in the intervening years, and what happens when the people you have spent so much of your life with are no longer the people with whom you should spend the rest of it.

Paperfolk Theatre is a new independent theatre company with emphasis on folk-inspired work, so it is no surprise that music plays a significant role in Our Seventh String. With music and lyrics by Emily Napolitano, Henry Smith and Lauren Green, the production features some moving and heartfelt songs, with well-crafted melodies and a variety of instruments that complement the various voices. With seven performers, there is a great range of vocal styles, but it is the duet with Frances (Miriam Ellins) and Thea (Harper Elwyn) that stands out as a particular highlight.

Rabbit & Watson review | Darebin Arts Speakeasy

Love has always inspired stories of devotion, sacrifice and impossible odds, but few take that journey quite as literally as Rabbit & Watson. Shane Woon's latest work reimagines the Chinese mythological figure Tu'er Shen, the Rabbit God of gay matchmaking, placing him in the unlikely world of Australian football. When Rabbit's centuries-old lover returns as Watson, a rising AFL player, he must navigate love, identity and the expectations placed upon him across the celestial and human realms. Blending Chinese mythology, Boys' Love, fantasy and AFL culture, Rabbit & Watson is a thoughtful exploration of what it means to search for belonging while carrying the weight of history, family and tradition.

Normally, I would bristle at the idea of a two-hour show without an interval, but Woon's concept and storytelling are so intriguing and refreshing that I never found myself growing restless or checking the time. Even so, the script would benefit from some judicious editing to tighten its structure. A subplot involving young footballers Cypress and Jaxson could be removed without diminishing the central narrative or its engagement with homophobia, sexuality, and relationships. With another character already questioning their sexuality, this storyline is repetitive rather than expanding the narrative, diluting the impact of the more compelling arcs.

Heartbreak Hotel review | Arts Centre Melbourne

Heartbreak is one of life's few universal experiences, yet no two people navigate it in quite the same way. In Heartbreak Hotel, New Zealand theatre-maker Karin McCracken transforms the aftermath of a failed relationship into an inventive blend of comedy, reflection, music, and science, inviting audiences to laugh at the messiness of love while recognising a little of themselves along the way.

Heartbreak Hotel is an exploration of what happens after a relationship ends, not just emotionally, but physically and psychologically. McCracken draws on her own experience, scientific research and pop culture to examine the strange ways heartbreak manifests, from obsessive thoughts and unanswered questions to the physical response to loss. Rather than presenting a linear narrative, McCracken constructs the work as a collage of ideas, where seemingly disparate threads gradually reveal themselves to be woven together, resulting in a performance that is intellectually curious and authentic. Her writing is witty and self-aware while acknowledging the pain of heartbreak.

Bring It On: The Musical review | Theatrical Inc | The National Theatre

Bring It On: The Musical carries the legacy of one of the most beloved teen comedies of the early 2000s. The 2000 film, starring Kirsten Dunst and Eliza Dushku, became a pop culture favourite thanks to its sharp humour, fierce rivalries, and endlessly quotable cheerleading drama. More than a decade later, the story made the leap to the stage with a musical adaptation featuring a score by Tom Kitt and Lin-Manuel Miranda, lyrics by Miranda and Amanda Green, and a book by Jeff Whitty. Rather than simply retelling the film, the musical takes the spirit fingers of Bring It On and spins it into a new story set in the same high-stakes environment of competitive cheer.

The musical follows Campbell, the accomplished captain of the Truman High cheer squad, whose world is upended when a redistricting decision forces her to transfer schools. Struggling to find her place at Jackson High, Campbell becomes involved with a very different cheer team, sparking rivalries, friendships, and a battle for national championship glory.

Gunawarra Re-Creation review | ILBIJERRI Theatre Company

Gunawarra Re-Creation is a work that sits at the intersection of storytelling, culture and family, weaving a contemporary narrative through an ancient Creation story that has been carried across generations. Written by Isobel Morphy-Walsh, the production touchingly explores how memory, Country and kinship exist simultaneously, and how inherited stories continue to shape identity, resilience and healing in the present.

Having not seen the 2024 staging of Gunawarra Re-Creation, this review considers the current iteration on its own terms. With a new cast, director and movement consultant shaping this version, the focus is on what this ensemble brings to the telling of the story.

Sixth Sense review | Melbourne Magic Festival | Arrow on Swanston

There's something delightfully unsettling about watching a stranger seem to read your mind. Sixth Sense, presented as part of the Melbourne Magic Festival, poses that very question in its title. Is it genuine intuition, or simply a masterful reading of human behaviour? Award-winning magician and mentalist Tom Weil doesn't rush to answer this. Instead, he spends the evening blurring the line between psychological illusion and something that feels, uncannily, like truth.

Part of what makes Weil's work so compelling is his relationship with predictability itself. Good mentalism often relies on audiences believing an outcome was left to chance, when in fact it was steered there all along, and Weil plays this tension deliberately, letting the room wonder how much of what unfolds was ever really in doubt.

Losing Face review | Melbourne Theatre Company

If you're not already being sold the promise of a younger, healthier and more optimised version of yourself, you're probably not paying attention. From wellness resorts and cosmetic procedures to the endless pursuit of self-improvement, ageing gracefully, or better yet, not at all, has become an industry in itself. In the comedy Losing Face, Marieke Hardy sets her sights on that fixation, exploring the impossible standards placed on women and the lengths they're encouraged to go for perfection. 

The show gets off to a promising start with three friends, Jo, Simone, and Lauren (Michala Banas, Madeleine Sami and Christie Whelan Browne), attending The Royal You resort to celebrate Jo's 50th birthday. Conversations around dating, marriage, children and body image naturally emerge, while subtle tensions simmer between the women, who have not seen each other for five years. Hardy establishes a grounded dynamic that hints at the different paths their lives have taken and the insecurities that have accumulated along the way.

Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of) review | Athenaeum Theatre

More than two centuries after its publication, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice remains one of literature's most beloved romances, celebrated for its social observations, sparkling wit and enduring examination of class, marriage and first impressions. Published in 1813, the novel follows Elizabeth Bennet and the enigmatic Mr Darcy as misunderstandings and prejudice gradually give way to love.

In Pride and Prejudice (*sort of), writer Isobel McArthur gives Austen's classic a modern makeover. Told from the perspective of the household servants, with just five performers - Amy Lehpamer, Zoe Ioannou, Kaori Maeda-Judge, Ruby Shannon and Teo Vergara - playing every role, the Olivier Award-winning production combines breakneck costume changes, pop anthems and irreverent humour while retaining the heart of Austen's story. The result is an inventive reimagining of a tale that is fresh and funny.

Beasts of Burden and Other Party Guests review | Bluestone Church Arts Space

Life often feels like a balancing act between the burdens we carry and the faces we present to the world. Personal anxieties, responsibilities and private struggles rarely disappear, instead following us through our daily interactions. In Beast of Burden and Other Party Guests, cabaret performer Miss Friby transforms these universal experiences into a bold, highly physical work that blends comedy, dance and theatrical spectacle. The result is an unpredictable exploration of the "beasts" that accompany us through life, and what happens when we finally invite them into the room.

The party kicks off with Miss Friby encased in a gorilla suit, performing a vigorous dance routine. She gradually removes the costume piece by piece, suggesting the shedding of a persona, burden or inner beast. Yet the transformation is not finished. Even after revealing the human figure underneath, she continues to move with the same physicality, blurring the boundary between human and beast with the implication that the two are intertwined rather than separate identities. This idea is reinforced in later party games, during which Miss Friby mimes animalistic gestures and lip syncs a cacophony of beastly sounds that are abruptly curtailed.

Anna X review | Red Stitch

Few real-life figures have captured the public imagination quite like Anna Delvey. The Russian-born con artist, whose deception of New York's wealthy elite became a global media sensation, blurred the line between ambition, performance and fraud. Her story raises intriguing questions about status, privilege and society's willingness to believe those who appear successful, making her an ideal subject for theatre.

Joseph Charlton's Anna X takes inspiration from Delvey's rise and fall, using her notoriety as a lens through which to examine identity, aspiration and the allure of reinvention. Centred on a fictitious relationship with app developer and tech CEO Arial, the play explores success in an age where image and influence can be as valuable as truth, though its focus occasionally drifts from its most compelling figure.

A Year Without Summer review | Rising: Melbourne | Arts Centre Melbourne

Florentina Holzinger's A Year Without Summer takes its title from the extraordinary events of 1816, when the eruption of Mount Tambora in present-day Indonesia triggered a global climatic disaster. The resulting crop failures, famine and unseasonably cold weather led to what became known as the "Year Without a Summer", exposing both the fragility of human civilisation and the unpredictable power of the natural world.

Among those affected by this turbulent period was Mary Shelley, who spent the summer of 1816 confined indoors near Lake Geneva with Percy Bysshe Shelley, Claire Clairmont, and Lord Byron. Inspired by conversations of science, mortality and the possibility of creating life, Shelley began writing Frankenstein, a novel that continues to shape understandings of humanity’s relationship with technology and scientific ambition. Holzinger draws on this as the foundation for her production’s exploration of the body and its transformation through medicine and technology.

The Supposed To Be review | Rising: Melbourne | Footscray Community Arts

In Chenturan Aran's The Supposed To Be, people can have a clone of themselves made and observe them living the life and being the person they were supposed to be. In this instance, Kavitha, wanted to be an actor, but due to the pressure of being in a migrant family, settled for a job in the corporate world. 

Over the years, Kavitha has been granted opportunities to interact with her clone, a young woman called Kaye, but without ever knowing who Kavitha us. She is explicitly warned never to let Kaye see her, as she is not meant to see or learn who she became to be. However, during one encounter, she seemingly forgets this instruction and quite quickly reveals her face to Kaye with little hesitation. Strangely, it seems that Aran is equally unconcerned with the consequences of this decision, because Kavitha faces no repercussions for breaking such a serious rule.

Prima Facie review | Comedy Theatre

Prima Facie returns to Melbourne seven years after its Australian debut, reuniting director Lee Lewis and Sheridan Harbridge in the role that first captivated audiences in 2019. Since then, the one-woman play has become an international phenomenon, resonating deeply through its confronting examination of consent, power and the failures of the legal system. 

Centred on ambitious criminal barrister Tessa, the play traces the collapse of someone who has built her life around faith in the law, only to find herself failed by the very system she once defended. Suzie Miller’s writing is sharp, raw and intelligent, balancing legal argument with human vulnerability. The result is theatre that is urgent rather than didactic, forcing the audience into uncomfortable proximity with the realities it explores.

Retrograde review | Melbourne Theatre Company

Ryan Calais Cameron’s Retrograde is a tightly written, gripping drama that transforms a pivotal moment in Hollywood screen legend Sidney Poitier’s early career into an examination of power, compromise, and integrity. Set against the anti-communist paranoia of 1950s Hollywood, the play's dynamic dialogue and strong emotional undercurrent explores the impossible burden placed upon Black artists navigating a deeply hostile industry.

Donné Ngabo delivers a magnetic performance as Sidney, capturing the actor’s charisma and the immense pressure simmering beneath his composed exterior. He infuses the role with impressive nuance, where instances of restraint, vulnerability, and defiance emerge with equal force, while keeping the tension alive throughout even the most intense exchanges.

Future Loves Burning / Age Of Extremes review | The Motley Bauhaus

The Motley Bauhaus houses three performance spaces, but that still is not enough for Tim Wotherspoon’s Future Loves Burning / Age Of Extremes. The writer-director has deemed the existing areas insufficient and instead taken over the entire venue for these two one-act plays. The result is a sprawling, chaotic and deliberately overwhelming experience that pulls the audience through shifting worlds of heightened language, absurdity and backstage dysfunction.

Wotherspoon uses this space in a captivating way, particularly with the first play Future Loves Burning, transforming the way the audience engages with it. Staging most of the play in the round in this space is inventive and makes it more intriguing, with the stage itself becoming a small seating bank. The doors and entrances, some of which I didn’t realise existed, keep the drama in motion and give the production an unpredictable intensity.

Slop review | Darebin Arts Speakeasy

In 2025, Merriam-Webster named "AI slop" as its word of the year, describing the flood of low-quality content created by AI for clicks and monetisation. A year earlier, composer Aviva Endean and choreographer Rebecca Jensen were developing Slop, the follow-up to their 2023 work Slip. This experimental performance pulls audiences into a chaotic landscape driven by digital overload, environmental instability, and the constant buzz of contemporary life. Through movement and sound, the production reflects on confusion, distraction, and the difficulty of distinguishing meaning from the endless barrage of information surrounding us.



An instrument crafted by Endean opens the show. It's a maze-like construction of pipes and tubes, that when blown into releases an almost primitive sound that carries a calm, soothing quality. This early stillness sits in deliberate contrast to what unfolds, marking out a brief moment of clarity before giving way to a fuller, more active sonic and physical terrain. Jensen appears holding a lit candle and removes a large clump of hair from inside the pipes, turning a simple blockage into something visceral and unsettling. The instrument is dragged backstage, and the piece spills into its slop state, where structure breaks down and materials start to build and overlap.



Gag Reflex review | La Mama Theatre

After realising that Schoolies in Fiji isn’t exactly free, three high school friends become increasingly desperate to figure out how to fund the trip. Cue a plotline that feels lifted straight from the world of American coming-of-age comedies like Blockers or Booksmart, packed with crass humour, fictionial sexual misadventures and painful learning curves.

Flick’s Gag Reflex adopts that mood wholeheartedly, delivering plenty of outrageous jokes while still allowing growth amongst its protagonists. Beneath the absurdity and sexual comedy is an astute exploration of friendship, insecurity and the confusion of teenage adolescence. It’s also very funny, leaning confidently into awkwardness, vulgarity and chaos without losing sight of the emotional stakes underneath.

Stuck review | La Mama Theatre

Two women work in a supermarket deli: Old One and Young One. Young One is energetic, sprightly and optimistic, convinced the job is only temporary until she saves enough money to pursue the life and career she really wants. Old One, meanwhile, is cynical and worn down by years of routine, approaching both the work and the world with a much harder edge. Their contrasting perspectives sparks immediate friction, as Stuck explores how their personalities clash, challenge, and influence one another over time.

Megan Twycross raises questions about ageism, motherhood and the obstacles many women face in breaking free from cycles that quietly tighten around them, becoming increasingly difficult to escape. Twycross finds a strong fusion of absurdist humour and emotional truth, using comedy to highlight the frustration, exhaustion and even resentment and anger that sit beneath the characters’ daily grind.

Waitress review | Her Majesty's Theatre

Based on the 2007 film of the same name, the musical Waitress follows Jenna, a small-town waitress and talented pie maker trapped in an unhappy marriage as she searches for a way to reclaim her independence. Set in a working diner, the story blends humour and heartbreak as Jenna forms unexpected connections that begin to shift her perspective on love, freedom and self-worth.

The plot is nothing groundbreaking, however it does get into problems with how writer Jessie Nelson handles its more sensitive themes. The domestic violence between Jenna and her husband Earl is uncomfortably light, and an affair with an obstetrician should be seen as immoral rather than romantic. Threads are introduced but never fully developed, most notably the pie competition, which builds expectation but doesn’t lead to any meaningful consequence. As a result, the narrative momentum can be uneven, even when the surface of the show is engaging.

The Glass Menagerie review | Melbourne Theatre Company

Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie follows the Wingfield family living in a cramped St Louis apartment as Amanda struggles to secure a future for her two adult children, Tom and Laura, while each of them quietly wrestles with duty, escape and personal limitation. A memory play told through Tom’s narration, it moves between present action and recollection as past and emotion blur. In this Melbourne Theatre Company production, director Mark Wilson delivers a reimagined staging with choices that significantly reshape its familiar tone and structure.



Wilson attempts to introduce new perspectives into the production, however his two boldest decisions are less successful than envisioned. The first act, which Wilson refers to as The Wingfields of America in reference to an earlier version of the story, is played as a comedy-drama, with the second act shifting into overt tragedy.



Bernie Dieter’s Club Kabarett review | Meat Market

It's been just over a year since Bernie Deiter captivated Melbourne audiences with Club Kabarett, and while several acts are the same, it is still bursting with energy, dazzling with skill and reaffirming exactly why it struck a chord the first time around. Through circus, cabaret and live music, it becomes a rousing invitation to let go of restraint and jump into joy, resistance and collective release.



The contortionism from Soliana Erse is once again, jaw dropping to watch. It's one thing to (literally) bend over backwards and turn your head around but the speed and the smoothness at which she does this is mesmerising. Similarly, Jacqueline Furey’s fire act is, quite simply, hot, hot, hot. Flames lick her body and then some, and you can feel the heat and know this isn’t smoke and mirrors, it’s edge-of-your-seat realness.



Spoons review | Damian Callinan | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Arts Centre Melbourne

One-man show Spoons wraps humour, grief and stubborn independence into the story of an ageing widower who refuses to be neatly packed away. Following 84-year-old Stan as he navigates life after loss, the piece balances wit with a sobering look at what it means to grow older, be managed, and ultimately be remembered. It’s playful in places, unexpectedly moving in others, and anchored by a character who is endearing and confronting in his refusal to let go of the life he’s built.



Damian Callinan does a lovely job as Stan, with Emilie Collyer’s direction giving the portrayal restraint and clarity that lets Stan breathe. There’s a gentle physicality to the performance, and his casual delivery of lines suggests a man content to spend his remaining days appreciating the present, even with the emptiness that lingers since the death of his wife. Also written by Callinan, the dialogue is distinctly Australian, peppered with local references and a dry, familiar sense of humour.



Cabin Pressure review | Sunny Youngsmith | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

If only all on-boarding processes were as enjoyably hectic as Sunny Youngsmith’s Cabin Pressure. In a suitably small black box theatre space, Youngsmith transforms the room into an aeroplane, the seating arranged with a central aisle for every audience member to walk down, flanked by rows pressed against the walls. It’s an effective bit of staging that immediately sets the tone of the show that is supported by a score of low hums of engine noises and in-flight movements. From the premium economy seat covers to the single lush business class throne, the details create an environment that is playful and a little unhinged.

For the most part, Youngsmith takes on the role of our lone flight attendant, abandoned by the rest of the crew who have all called in sick. Slightly frazzled and under the pump, they ask a 'passenger' to help with the pre-departure safety demonstration. Audience participation is handled with real care, with eye masks handed out as props for the long flight but also as a gentle opt-out signal for anyone not keen to be involved. It’s a smart, low-pressure system, though the atmosphere Youngsmith establishes so quickly is so relaxed and disarming that I don't see any masks on heads.

Anything But The Dyson and Other Excellent Monologues review | Katrina Mathers | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trainscendence

The first thing you notice about Katrina Mathers’ set is how 'Fifty Shades of Pink' the dressing room inspired design is, every surface drenched in it, right down to her outfit, with only her purple shoes daring to break rank. They do not stay on for long, though, as Mathers launches into a series of monologues on menopause and the other particular delights middle age throws your way.



Anything But The Dyson and Other Excellent Monologues is Mathers’ first show in 23 years, but you would not know it. She is completely at ease on stage, slipping seamlessly into character and impressions of doctors and newsreaders, with a confidence that suggests she has never been away.



Love Letter to Heephah review | Amelia Pawsey | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trainscendence

Amelia Pawsey has been living in a sharehouse with three others: her two housemates, and Heephah, a 60cm-tall taxidermy fox purchased from the Art Gallery of Ballarat. The fox has been watching - and not-so-quietly judging - Pawsey and her housemates for several years, so it was only natural that her debut solo cabaret would be dedicated to it in Love Letter to Heephah.

The structure is straightforward enough, with Pawsey discussing an event or situation in a sharehouse before performing a song. We get numbers about how cutlery should be organised in a drawer, and the realities of privacy in shared living, including “Hymn 69”. She uses a mix of live guitar and pre-recorded tracks, which allows the storytelling, physicality, and songs to move into spaces that would not be possible with guitar alone.

Huge Ass Mindset review | Frankie McNair | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Victoria Hotel

With a beaming smile and wide eyes, Frankie McNair tells us she is a survivor of childhood sexual assault and sexual assault. She laughs as she calls herself a high achiever. In Huge Ass Mindset, McNair reframes resilience through an unflinchingly self-aware, fast-moving set that refuses to linger in victimhood. She leans into ambition, survival instincts, and the absurdity of how the world expects people to package trauma into something neat and palatable. There is bite in her delivery, but there is also a disarming openness that keeps the room with her, even as she pushes into darker territory.

Rather than using it as background context, McNair places this experience directly into the foundation of the work, challenging how sexual assault and trauma are spoken about, particularly in comedy. The hour builds as a series of escalating reflections, with ideas that recur and steadily gain weight as the set progresses.

The Performers review | Dolly Diamond & Skank Sinatra | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Grouse

To save themselves from a very high and very overdue Edinburgh Fringe tax bill, cabaret producers Dolly Diamond and Skank Sinatra decide to stage a deliberate flop for the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. But when word of mouth begins to spread and ticket sales start climbing, the two drag divas realise the show has taken on a life of its own, and they are no longer in control of its success.

The Performers features a vibrant mix of live vocals and lip-syncing, including Dolly’s riotous interpretation of Dolly Parton’s sombre "Me and Little Andy", driven as much by facial expression as performance. Skank’s medley of Kylie Minogue songs is slickly executed, as is her delightful theatrical rendition of the South African national anthem. It's a random group of songs, but it all works so well.

Dry Think, Therefore Dry Am review | Nick Schuller | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trades Hall

Nick Schuller would have to be the least excitable person performing at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. The stand-up comedian returns with Dry Thing, Therefore Dry Am, another set of dry, unhurried observations, delivered in a tone so measured it undercuts the absurdity of the material.



There’s no overarching theme here, just a running list of thoughts and views from Schuller. They feel like the kind of weird and random ideas you’d say with your mates at the pub, except these aren’t the kind of thoughts most people are having. That’s because Schuller’s brain seems to operate on its own unique frequency.

Welcome to Hell review | Andy Balloch | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Improv Conspiracy Theatre

In these trying times, with the world seemingly on the brink of World War III, it feels more important than ever to find stable employment to carry us through this period of uncertainty. In Andy Balloch’s Welcome To Hell, Chief Officer of Recruitment, Admissions and Retention Ramone leads an onboarding session for our new role working for Hell. Literal Hell.

As we take our seats and prepare to learn how we, as fresh recruits, can help bring Hell on Earth, we’re briefed on past “success stories”. We don our lanyards and are encouraged to speak in one unified voice. The seminar is, we’re told, sponsored by the Catholic Church, a line that neatly signals Balloch’s willingness to push boundaries.

Maitriarchy review | Maitreyi Karanth | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Ballers Clubhouse

Maitreyi Karanth began her stand-up career in her 40s. Now the 53-year-old Indian comedian has made her Melbourne International Comedy Festival debut with her show Maitriarchy. Being a woman of colour in her 50s, she brought a perspective not usually seen on stage, as she draws humour from lived experience, delivered with a bluntness that is softened by an easy, conversational storytelling style.



Karanth shares stories and anecdotes from her life, with a focus on family and marriage, alongside a fair amount of discussion on sex, because, shock horror, women in their 50s still enjoy sex. An Indian woman speaking so openly and frankly is not a voice often heard in these spaces, offering a point of view that is candid and unapologetically direct. That is very much her strength. She touches on controversial topics too, but with a glint in her eye, she consistently makes them land.



B48Y Crash Lands On Earth! review | Lukas Meintjes | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Bauhaus

An alien spaceship has crashed into the Peel nightclub in Collingwood, with B48Y left to navigate their new human environment. B48Y Crash Lands On Earth! is a physical comedy and clowning piece that throws itself into absurdity and audience interaction, as this alien creature explores who they are, what identity is, and how it is performed and shaped in different contexts.

I have previously seen Lukas Meintjes on stage, but this marks my first time seeing him in a full clown show, and wow, is the skill undeniable. This is a physically demanding role sustained with impressive precision. His work is not only athletic, but highly detailed, with shifts in posture and facial expression doing as much work as the more hectic play.

The Breakup Variety Hour review | Ariana and the Rose | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Trades Hall

Break-ups and heartache are rarely neat, they tend to be chaotic, messy, and experiences that many people spend a lot of time trying to make sense of. Coming all the way from Brooklyn, Ariana and the Rose brings her cabaret The Breakup Variety Hour to Melbourne, attempting to turn that turbulence into something structured and digestible. Using a mix of storytelling and 80s-infused pop songs, Ariana guides audiences through the six healing steps of a breakup, reframing recovery as a kind of staged journey.



The show struggles to establish a solid narrative backbone grounded in personal history. Ariana offers glimpses into her own romantic misadventures, but these instances are fragmented and missing a central thread that would allow audiences to connect more with her. Instead, significant time is spent outlining each step in detail, explaining what it is and how to move beyond it. Rather than seeing these stages lived and embodied, they are largely described, which reduces their impact. Like the tile, everything is laid out, leaving little space for nuance or discovery.



Australia's Worst Journalist review | Sweeney Preston | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

For three years, Sweeney Preston worked at PEDESTRIAN.TV, Australia’s largest youth publisher, as a journalist, breaking stories like “There’s Been Yet Another Explosive Development In Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie’s Family Saga” and “A Well-Known Aussie Gym Chain Has Finally Had It W/ Influencers, Banning Tripods At Its Gyms”. He also wrote dating advice articles, ironically while his own love life was in need of a rewrite. In Australia’s Worst Journalist, Preston blends his time in the newsroom with his mishaps in love for an hour of light-hearted comedy.



Preston’s delivery stays relaxed and aware throughout, which suits the material and keeps the tone grounded rather than overly stylised. His energy is consistently high, giving the set a sense of drive, even if the material doesn’t always match that momentum.



VHS review | Alexei Toliopoulos | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Melbourne Town Hall

Having worked in a video store, a Video Ezy to be specific, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia the second I took my seat for Alexei Toliopoulos’s VHS. On stage sat an old-school VHS player, not a DVD/video combo, just pure VHS. Scattered around it was a pile of tapes, many of them films I had watched endlessly or once owned. On the TV, instantly familiar old classification ads played. I’d seen that family on my screen countless times, gathered at the video store, only to dwindle one by one as the rating crept closer to R. It sent me straight back twenty years, no rewinding required.



But this comedy show isn’t just about a love of movies, it’s about what makes them resonate, like a film’s score or that one piece of music that can completely reshape how a scene is felt. Take “On the Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter, his stirring 2004 composition that has become synonymous with emotional weight on screen. Here, Toliopoulos delivers an engaging and insightful discussion on film scores, how they are chosen, and the way they are woven in. He balances this with a great dose of wit, particularly when reflecting on its use in Hamnet, drawing out both the impact and the familiarity of such musical choices. I could have sat there and listened to him talk about this for a whole hour, but there's a lot that Toliopoulos has to get through.

Puss Puss review | Natalia Sledz | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Motley Wherehaus

Natalia Sledz unleashes a chaotic, keenly observed feline world in Puss Puss, blending physical comedy, music, and surreal imagery into a largely silent hour of gleeful, unapologetic absurdity. It quickly establishes a distinct setup, inviting the audience to experience this reality through Puss Puss’ warped, instinct-driven lens.



At the centre of it all is Sledz’s skilfully measured performance. She captures feline behaviour with remarkable precision, from her fixation on noisy toys and anything that glints to her perfectly coughed up furballs and when an audience member sprays her with water. Every movement is intuitive, detailed, and finely tuned for maximum comedic impact.



MagicSafe: Conjuror vs Corporate review | Liam “LJ” Jumpertz | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Speakeasy Theatre

Work retreats. Enough said. Framed as a corporate-style seminar, MagicSafe: Conjuror vs Corporate turns the spotlight on workplace compliance culture in a world where even magic comes with regulations. What begins as a straightforward, safety-approved presentation gradually slips off track as bureaucratic interference creeps in, drawing on recognisable frustrations, policies, power trips, and performative professionalism, with a mix of light theatricality and well-executed illusion.

The conceit of MagicSafe frames the audience as magicians attending a multi-day retreat on how to perform tricks the “safe” way. Liam “LJ” Jumpertz leads as the seminar’s safety demonstrator, guiding us through a deliberately dry, chapter-by-chapter PowerPoint. As this is a Level 3 rating, we are ushered into the “advanced” content, covering supposedly high-risk acts such as mentalism, escapology, and the perilous card trick. However, LJ’s efforts are continually undercut by Todd from Corporate, an obstructive overseer whose strict adherence to bureaucracy threatens to derail the session at every turn.

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.