Jodee Mundy is the only hearing person in her family. In Personal, she shares stories of her childhood and adulthood and opens up about the pressures she faced being a Child of Deaf Adults (CODA) and the frustrations of living in a society that failed to recognise the needs of Deaf people.
Mundy appears on stage with six large grey cubes scattered behind her, reminiscent of toys a child has not bothered to put away. She speaks to the audience verbally and through Auslan, sometimes using both, sometimes only using one of these languages. This means there are moments during the show where some people are unable understand what is being said but are still able to easily infer the information being imparted through her facial
expressions and body language. In some ways, by separating us, Mundy shows that we are more alike than we think.
There is a lot of superstition and dread around the number 13. So much so that buildings often go from level 12 to level 14 or the name of an apartment is listed as 12A, which fail to recognise that simply renaming something doesn't change what it is. Presented as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, James Hazelden's morbid 12A is a vignette of stories all taking place inside a suburban home that has the misfortune of being apartment number 12A.
The first of the three revolves around two friends (Brose Avard and Vaughn Rae) discussing the previous nights events as a woman sleeps awkwardly on a chair. Unfortunately this story creates little suspense for the audience and the long silences between them seem out of place given the context of the situation. There is no tension felt from the performances or the writing, so the pauses don't serve a purpose to the narrative. The final moments, while surprising, don't actually have anything to do with what we've been watching so there doesn't feel like there's a genuine pay off for the audience.
It's not easy being an adult. As you enter your 20s, you notice an increase in your responsibilities and obligations in being a good adult, especially when owning your home, having a high-paying career, getting married and having children seem to be the determiners of this success. Tash York doesn't have any of that, but she does have a hell of a lot of talent, and in her cabaret show, Adulting, she sings her way through her frustrations on what makes your adult life a good life.
York and pianist Tim Solly cleverly take a number of well-known songs, change the lyrics and create new musical numbers that provide the audience with a sense of familiarity and also allow for an anticipation to flow through the room as to what song will be next. Ace of Base's "All That She Wants" becomes a song about needing a baby to feel complete and a cheeky spot of rapping hilariously exposes the harsh truths of famous nursery rhymes and their characters, including Georgie Porgie and his predatory ways.
Showko - “Laughing Child” in Japanese - is the number one rakugo performer
in Australia, and she returns to the Melbourne stage with her show, Absolutely Normal. Disappointingly, Showko is
the only rakugo
performer in Australia, as this art form is so rich on imagination and creativity
that it would be great to have the opportunity to see it more often. Originating
in Japan, rakugo is a 400-year-old traditional form of comic storytelling using minimal
props with the performer kneeling on a cushion. Movement, action and characters are all conveyed
through body language, voice and facial expressions.
Dresser in a shiny silver yukata, Showko warms up the audience with some anecdotes
about life in Japan and Australia. They are stories of the everyday but her
enthusiasm makes them seem far more exciting than they are, which could be
considered a lesson in how to approach and appreciate rakugo. This pays off for
the audience when it comes to her rakugo story about a cherry tree that allows
us to easily be transported into the world she describes.
Clara Cupcakes has two faces: her comedy face and her burlesque face. During her many years as a performer, she's noticed there is a dichotomy between the two. To put it simply, she is too sexual for comedy and too funny for burlesque. In her new Melbourne International Comedy Festival show, Whom, Clara takes us on a journey inside her head as she tried to reconcile the two art forms.
Known for her whimsical nature, Clara seems more erratic and anxious in this show than previous ones which is fitting within the context of Whom. We are delving into the mind and psyche of a performer that doesn't quite fit in to the existing moulds and it should be nerve-wracking. She still finds a good balance of confidence and vulnerability in exploring this and in remaining true to her character, Clara chooses to host a karaoke party as the backdrop for Whom.
