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.



Callinan steps into multiple supporting roles, but the scenes where he is speaking to unseen characters, whether on the phone or to neighbours across the road, are slightly off. Without hearing the other side of those conversations, the exchanges lack a natural rhythm. A touch of pre-recorded audio of their responses to Stan could have grounded these moments, and made them more real.



Throughout the show, the idea of memory and what it means to be remembered is explored through objects. Everyday items carry weight, possessing significance no matter how trivial they might seem to others. Stan is torn when he is told he must whittle his collection of 988 souvenir spoons, each tied to a trip taken with his wife, to just 44. As this becomes a point of tension for him, his children are busily marking items they want to take from the home when he moves into an assisted living facility.



It’s a shame that such an intimate and emotional story plays out in such an unfortunate space. In a long, flat seating configuration with barely any elevation in the stage, it becomes difficult to fully immerse yourself in the production when you’re constantly trying to see around or over other people’s heads. While the team does cheekily acknowledge this and reference the re-plotting they have had to do, it doesn’t actually solve the issue.



Spoons is at its strongest when it leans into the small, specific details of a life lived, finding tenderness and heartbreak in the objects we retain and the memories they are attached to. Uneven staging and a few structural choices occasionally pull you out of the moment, but the heart of the piece remains clear. In Stan, we’re given a character who is funny, frustrating, and deeply human, a reminder that growing older isn’t about fading away, but about holding on, in whatever ways we can, to the things that make a life feel like our own. 

Spoons was performed at Arts Centre Melbourne between 26 March - 5 April and 18 - 19 April 2026, as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

Image credit: Youngie