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.

**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.