This was published 1 year ago
Extended Rainbow History Class is a comedy treat
By Donna Demaio, Vyshnavee Wijekumar, Tyson Wray, Cher Tan, Cameron Woodhead, Nell Geraets, Hannah Francis and Lefa Singleton Norton
There’s plenty to laugh about in our rolling collection of reviews covering comedy at this year’s Melbourne Fringe Festival.
COMEDY
Rainbow History Class | Hannah McElhinney & Rudy Jean Rigg ★★★★
Trades Hall, until 22 October 22
Rainbow History Class is in session, and teachers Rudy Jean Rigg and Hannah McElhinney have the room in their sway. Much like their hit TikTok channel, the vibe here is welcoming and witty. The facts are flying along with the laughs as the show delves into some of the most interesting queer history of the 20th century. From the truth of that iconic queer identifier “friend of Dorothy” to warfare and spies, the material is fascinating and made all the more entertaining by the camaraderie of our hosts.
Riffing off each other and the audience, the pair can go deeper than their short-form video content and the extended format is a treat. Our hosts shine as they pair facts with personal anecdotes, take their time to build rapport with the audience and indulge in tangents. An hour passes phenomenally fast, leaving us wishing it was a double.
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
Am I the Drama? | Andy Balloch ★★★
Trades Hall, until October 22
Within 10 seconds of hitting the stage you can tell that Andy Balloch has been a collaborator with Reuben Kaye – the only way his demeanour could be camper would be if he staged this show at Wet on Wellington.
Taking the audience on a metaphorical rollercoaster of his life, Balloch pieces together a bildungsroman of the queer experience beginning with his youth in his ’80s.
When his material fires, he shines – literally. Balloch’s outfit shimmers in the reflection of the houselights. He regales the crowd with tales of his own dating promiscuity, therapy sessions and how it was once socially acceptable to drug your child with Phenergan for a bit of “shush time”. There are disgustingly hilarious gags about sub-genres of jazz and self-saucing puddings that will require a deep mind-cleanse to forget, although some skits well overstay their welcome and would benefit with a fierce red pen.
Throughout the hour there are jarring sidesteps into much darker territory: including stories of his family members escaping Nazis, the 1994 police raid of Melbourne’s Tasty nightclub, and the horrifically high suicide rates of youths in the LGBTIQA+ community.
Balloch has both a brilliant queer comedic mind and provides a welcome megaphone to voice the afflictions of the oppressed – it all just comes a bit muddled when the two streams of consciousness collide.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Hacked | Adam McKenzie ★★★★
Trades Hall, until October 22
Adam McKenzie’s been hacked. He’s not alone. Millions of us have our personal data stolen and many of us don’t even realise. Hacked is his comedic exploration of this, currently in development at Melbourne Fringe.
After McKenzie found his personal details had been released, he became aware of how much information there is out there about him, and by extension all of us. The answer was unsettling. Even more unsettling is the fact that really, there isn’t much we can do about it.
Somehow McKenzie takes this bad news and finds a (sometimes darkly) funny side. Computers and their algorithms are ubiquitous in our lives and with a disarmingly warm delivery McKenzie mines this successfully to connect with his audience. Slick digital elements assist in bringing his points home and this, paired with his notable comic timing, makes for a strong structure. I’m not keen on being hacked, but I’m keen on seeing this show as it develops.
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
Japanese Worry | Takashi Wakasugi ★★
Trades Hall, until October 22
Takashi Wakasugi took home the Directors’ Choice award at this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival for this show. Unless he’s completely flipped the script since then, it’s a perplexing decision.
Japanese Worry is an hour of material so middle of the road that you can see the painted white lines pacing in your mind as he delivers the most glaringly obvious punchlines.
Wakasugi begins with a promising premise – being a foreigner, acclimatising to Australian culture and the trepidation and anxiety that brings. However, he soon descends on the most white bread of topics. He questions the audience on their methods of reheating leftover pizza, the guilt that comes with buying non-free range eggs, and the semantics of the etymology of a “toothbrush”.
His juxtaposition of AFL fandom and religious cults is endearing, though not original. As is his implementation of haikus, although I don’t believe a single one followed the traditional 17 syllable format. Wakasugi is an affable performer – but this is an easily forgettable hour.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
THEATRE
Breaking | Counterpilot ★★★
Digital Fringe, Until October 22
Newsreaders get trapped in a bad news cycle at this free digital event.
Three unrehearsed performers report in real time on an unrelenting cascade of crises – some analogues of reality (an out-of-control fire in Tasmania as a symbol of climate catastrophe), others pure wish fulfilment (the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse descend with an undead army on Canberra).
Set up as a parody of a 24/7 rolling coverage – complete with live crosses and a chyron scrolling breaking stories across the screen – the scripted improv constructs an absurd burlesque on contemporary media.
In the session I viewed, Emily Burton, Riley Nottingham, and Jon Haynes amiably undermined the poker-faced gravitas expected of news anchors as a litany of disasters unfolded.
Counterpilot’s Breaking focuses on the fear, powerlessness and apathy an all-consuming news vortex can generate in its audience. A whimsical side-step is tentatively offered, though the latest news from the Middle East puts that in a brutal context the creators could not perhaps have foreseen.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead
COMEDY
ROFL | The Listies★★★★
Festival Park, until October 29
Rarely does bedtime for two-to-12-year-olds involve chaos, cows and peals of laughter. That is, unless you’re at The Listies show ROFL, where Rich and Matt are tackling bedtime with the verve of over-sugared toddlers.
In classic odd-couple comedy dynamic, straight-man Rich attempts to get wise-guy Matt to bed. Matt, proxy for every kid on earth, does his best to keep the party going. Bedtime stories go awry and lullabies of doom are performed.
The absurdity of seeing an adult man successfully pull off these madcap antics has kids, well, ROFL. There’s pantomime call and response, audience interaction and genuine awe from some junior audience members who can’t quite believe what this pair of naughty adults get up to.
They describe themselves as kidult entertainment and yep, it’s exactly as advertised. Shenanigans and fart jokes for the kids, quick quips and asides perfectly pitched to Gen X and Millennial adults. Ideal for a first family trip to the theatre.
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
300 Paintings | Sam Kissajukian ★★★★
Trades Hall, until October 22
What does a comic do when they quit comedy? In the case of Sam Kissajukian: take up painting. This is not a Hannah Gadsby-esque critique of art history, but the show has a truth and depth fans of that famous stand-up will find both familiar and satisfying.
300 Paintings is fundamentally about Kissajukian’s bipolar disorder. If that sounds harrowing or depressing, it’s not. For starters, the show is mostly the highs. And he deftly holds our hand the whole way through as we ride the mania train together. It’s an exhilarating, wild, funny, jaw-dropping and eye-opening ride.
There is messaging about men’s mental health, woven integrally into the whole and not didactic at all. Kissajukian turns out to be quite a good painter. Also quite a good entrepreneur, grant writer, shit-stirrer, storyteller and ambivalent comic.
I became heavily invested in his world-creation and a tad disappointed when his galaxy-sized art prank didn’t eventuate. Fortunately, the paintings are real and you can ponder some at length after the show.
Reviewed by Hannah Francis
COMEDY
Mafia The Game: The Show | Ashley Apap & Nick Robertson ★★★
Trades Hall, until October 20
Welcome to Trades Hall where a town meeting has been called to unmask the Mafia hitmen among us. We’re here to witness a game of strategy, accusations, and outright lies (don’t worry, no audience participation required).
In this live whodunnit, a rotating motley crew of Fringe performers are players who must ferret out the murderer or run the risk of being murdered themselves. On opening night some of the most entertaining elements are already in place – performers willing to ham it up, ready with quick quips and eager to j’accuse to entertain the audience.
In the rush to set the scene, some explanations went astray, and for those not familiar with the game it may have been a challenge to keep up. There’s room to polish the format but it’s already an ideal place to get a taste of performers letting loose – surely one of the most enjoyable things about Fringe.
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
Brown on the Outside, White on the Inside | The Coconuts ★★★★★
Trades Hall – Music Room, until October 15
“Coconut”: a colloquial term coined by the South Asian diaspora that defines your adoption of Western culture. The Coconuts – TV presenter Leela Varghese and actor Shabana Azeez – explore this and more in their musical comedy Brown on the Outside, White on the Inside.
The pair have complementary creative styles underpinned by genuine friendship. Varghese brings the musicality, playing an acoustic, electric and ’80s synth guitar. Azeez delivers deadpan snark accompanied by a soft toy guitar.
There’s expected content with surprising results, including classifying Trump as “true brown” due to his reluctance to pay taxes, like an ethnic dad. There are also broadly appealing songs about “slow walkers” and “nice guys”, and personal retellings of Azeez’s clicking jaw, active at the girth of her boyfriend’s penis. An impression of Julia Stone’s vocal tone steals the show.
A sweet-sounding, indie soundtrack juxtaposed with sarcastic, critical lyrics: The Coconuts have delivered an impressive Melbourne Fringe debut.
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar
COMEDY
Karen From Finance is Doing Time | Karen From Finance ★★★★
The Ukiyo, October 12
By the time Karen From Finance rips off her third pair of cupcake-clad underwear for the police, it becomes clear this isn’t your average Law & Order episode.
After being falsely accused of cooking the books, Karen must find a way to exonerate herself and walk free from prison. But instead of law and justice, the former RuPaul’s Drag Race contender turns to camp and innuendo to throw off the shackles. A strip search becomes a randy striptease, a prison sentence becomes a boozy drag brunch and a lesson in Microsoft becomes a tutorial for being “Maxihard”.
From her first word to her last, Karen ensures the energy remains high, if not verging on frenetic. However, it feels far from one-note thanks to a surprise appearance from Tina Del Twist – Australia’s merlot-swilling, velvet-clad nightingale – whose voice is as smooth as butter and wit as sharp as a knife.
Though its comment on the nation’s disproportionate incarceration rate falls rather flat among the Legally Blonde references and merkins, it at least catches the audience off-guard, allowing a moment of reflection amid many moments of elation.
Reviewed by Nell Geraets
COMEDY
The Ocean After All | Wil Greenway ★★★
Trades Hall, until October 15
Somewhere underneath the levels of multi-layered convolution there’s a beguiling tale to be told here – but Wil Greenway is yet to properly unearth it.
Staging his first show in his hometown in four years, Greenway no doubt takes inspiration from the most gifted comic storytellers – think Daniel Kitson, Cassie Workman or Mike Birbiglia.
Greenway uses strikingly poetic language to create visual and sonic imagery that captures the senses – be it sand beneath your toes, the ocean sweeping you away or the inability to properly profess love. But his tangential nature and penchant for fumbling is the undoing of this tale of a castaway marooned on a desert island.
It also wouldn’t be a late-night Fringe show at Trades without the blasts of a police siren echoing from outside the building – but to his credit, Greenway handles it deftly.
The Ocean After All falls somewhere in a Venn diagram overlap of comedy and theatre – it would benefit greatly by choosing one or the other. In my opinion, the latter.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Pork Chop | Scout Boxall ★★
Trades Hall, until October 22
Midway through Scout Boxall’s latest show an audience member vomits. Apologising, they exclaim: “This has nothing to do with the quality of your show!” It scores the biggest laugh of the evening. Obviously, this is a far cry from the heights of Boxall’s previous hours.
Over the past few years they’ve stamped themselves as a burgeoning star with piercing takes on gender, sexuality and mental health. Unfortunately, Pork Chop is a slap-dash work-in-progress that has been haphazardly thrown together.
Beginning with a solipsistic song about yearning for perfection on a Korg Boxall is yet to master, the show features embryonic sketches and a multitude of technical errors. Punchlines on subjects already well-mastered are tripped over (takedowns of heterosexuals or Philippe Gaulier seem to pop up in every second Fringe show nowadays).
There’s also the unfortunate reappropriation of a song about Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen taken from their previous show Buck Wild. Sometimes, it’s not cool to recycle.
There are fleeting glimpses of magic, including excellent audience participation that leads to a member sharing a nude from their phone with them on stage – and a brilliant impromptu recreation of said nude from Boxall in a final sketch.
Pork Chop needs a fierce gutting and studious rewrite before it’s staged at festivals next year. However, having witnessed the levels of comedic prowess Boxall can reach, I’ll be giving it a second chance.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Con vs Con vs Con | Con Coutis ★★★★
The Motley Bauhaus, until October 15
Having scored a Golden Gibbo nomination (awarded to an independent performer who seeks artistic exploration over financial gain) at this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival, Con Coutis has no doubt piqued the interest of the industry cognoscenti with this meta-lasagne of a show.
Throughout his latest hour he delves into the conflict of his own mind, and the physical and mental battles that 1000-plus other hyperverse Cons are plaguing him with. His commitment to the gags about his own psyche are relentless. As are his well-refined bouts of audience participation, mime and immaculate audio cues (a hat-tip must go to his overworked tech).
Almost moronically, it all crescendos with a dust-up reminiscent of The Matrix, Being John Malkovich and WWE thrown into a ring together. Somehow, it works – with each overzealous punch-on reciprocated with feverish audience laughter.
It’s thoroughly silly and enjoyable sketch. Compared with the work of his peers – it may undershoot the emotional undertones of Steen Raskopoulos or the batshit inventiveness of Tom Walker – but it still holds the punch to land a visceral knock-out blow.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Stickybeak ★★★★★
Festival Hub, Trades Hall, Quilt room, until October 15
Sometimes all a show needs is minimal props (three tiny fences made of rusty corrugated iron, white picket timber and broken fake bricks and milk crates) plus a whole lot of talent.
Kimberley Twiner, Jessie Ngaio, Laura Trenerry and Patrick Dwyer are a bunch of clowns. Their physical comedy, at times, literally moves at snail’s pace. It invites us to take a stickybeak at an assortment of characters – human and animal – that live beyond those fences.
Delightful buffoonery ensues as a delectable, steady stream of zany yet relatable skits and interactions unravel. The over-arching thread allows us to eavesdrop on a neighbourhood. You could find yourself doubled-over – with laughter – as dogs bounce about doing their business, cats beg and purr for attention, teens flirt and adults peep into each other’s lives. Stand-out scenes include a spine-chilling toddler tantrum and a perfectly annoying fly.
Stickybeak is brilliantly paced and it’s a rollicking, silly, well-played, joyous ride.
Reviewed by Donna Demaio
COMEDY
The 50 Year Show | Sammy J – ★★★★
Melbourne Town Hall, October 6
Did you miss the most-anticipated show of this year’s Fringe? Don’t worry. It’s set to return – albeit in 2028.
For the uninitiated, Sammy J’s The 50 Year Show was conceived when he was, in his own words, a “nobody” in 2008. Every five years at the Melbourne Fringe he recreates the performance as a time capsule of the years that have fallen into the ephemeral ether of the past; with high-profile drop-ins, an avalanche of in-jokes and quinquennial segments both celebrating and commiserating the epoch.
The now award-winning comedian and ABC personality plans to stage the show until 2058, when he will be 75-years-old.
A cavalcade of special guests return (both in-person and via video) to discuss the past, present and future – including Celia Pacquola, Charlie Pickering, Damian Callinan, Ali McGregor and Sammy’s felt-faced partner-in-crime, Randy. A choir in the balcony serenades the audience, while Lord Mayor Sally Capp releases the shackles of political handcuffs to celebrate the joyous nature of the event.
The 50 Year Dancers (or those who remain/commit to returning), the 50 Year Baby (who was in gestation at the first performance) and the 50 Year Crossword all make a return, as does the 50 Year Joke – which sees a punchline, not to be delivered for another 35 years, slowly prepared line by line in each show. A takedown of cryptocurrency is sublime, suitably accompanied by all attendees receiving an NFT on exit (read: a pinned button).
While the room bursts with unbridled ebullience, there’s a tinge of melancholic whiplash in the air as the headlines of yesteryear are recited. What once enveloped society now feels inconsequential – a triggering reminder that the tribulations that transpire in daily life will one day be nothing more than something that happened a long, long time ago.
With numerous accolades and commercial success, Sammy J isn’t exactly “Fringe” any more – a fact highlighted by the venue he’s performing in, which is well over quadruple the size of the first, second and third iterations of the show. But this audacious idea and his commitment to its execution lies at the heart of the artistic spirit that the festival seeks to inspire.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Insomniac Mixtape | Telia Nevile ★★★★
Trades Hall and Digital On Demand, until October 22
“We recommend you enjoy this show with headphones and jammies” is advice I like to hear at the opening of any performance. All the better coming from the soothing voice of Telia Nevile, poet laureate and fellow sleep-seeker.
Insomniac Mixtape is both a live show (on at Trades Hall until October 15) and an audio digital on-demand offering that can be enjoyed from the comfort of your own bed. No better place for Nevile’s meditations on the life of an insomniac.
Here’s a restless soul that can serenade you in new wave pop-style with “dare me to smother you” on the frustrations of lying awake next to a snoring companion, or rock a Ramones-style driving beat with late night lamentations on ageing. The delivery is perfect, the songs are catchy and the material is all too familiar to the sleepless.
This won’t send you to sleep, but it will keep you entertained in those long restless hours.
Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
Yes/No: A Comedy Lecture | Tom Ballard ★★★
Trades Hall - Solidarity Hall, until October 8
Tom Ballard’s self-deprecating comedic prowess is on show in Yes/ No: A Comedy Lecture. The seasoned performer’s performance lecture experiments with traditional stand-up modes to unpack the upcoming vote for an Indigenous Voice.
Using statistically compelling data and historical facts, Ballard argues the importance of the referendum in progressing political representation. Equipped with a PowerPoint interspersed with pop culture references, images of local fauna genitalia and childhood photos, he does well to inject comedy into dry content.
Dense sections felt like information overload – particularly with Ballard’s fast-paced momentum. It does reduce the clarity of his arguments, leaving insufficient time to fully unpack the nuances of the progressive “no vote”.
Though the ending is delivered quickly, and not punchy enough to drive his point home, Ballard should be commended for trying something new – and recovering well when he falters.
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar
CABARET
Werkin’ 5 to 9 | HollyPop & Brenda Bressed ★★★
The MC Showroom, until October 8
What do you get when a drag queen is audited by the Australian Taxation Office? A medley of show tunes, apparently.
Werkin’ 5 to 9 lifts the drag club curtain, offering the audience a glimpse into what it means to be an artist working amid a cost-of-living crisis. Sitting backstage after their Saturday night gig, the Kath & Kim of drag – HollyPop and Brenda Bressed – reminisce on their journey to full-time performing, a journey littered with part-time jobs, eviction notices and, inexplicably, a police brawl with a fairy.
Punctuated by familiar songs from Grease, Sweeney Todd and Priscilla, it’s like the campiest jukebox imaginable – made even more captivating by the Broadway-worthy vocal range of Brenda Bressed, a former competitor on The Voice.
Though its costume changes are minimal (arguably a faux pas for cabaret) and its initial pacing rather shaky, the duo eventually warms up, giving a figurative middle finger to anyone who asks “but what do you do for your day job?“
Reviewed by Nell Geraets
COMEDY
A Day in the Life | Stuart Daulman ★★★
Trades Hall, until October 8
We all want to feel like we’ve seen something unmissable, never to be repeated. Stuart Daulman delivers just this in each night of A Day in the Life, a show he writes daily based on what happened to him since he woke up the very same morning.
In an era when so much is available on demand, a show that appeals to our FOMO is set for success. By nature the material is somewhat fragmented and delivered in shorter bursts, but fast laughs and frequent punchlines keep the show pacy.
Daulman opens with an extended “recap” of previous days using safer material to warm the crowd. It’s effective, but we’re in the audience because we want in on the experiment. It may be riskier to spend more time on the untested, but this is where the potential for magic happens. It’s in the unexpected that the highlights of this show are found.
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton
COMEDY
STUD | Aiden Willcox ★★★
Trades Hall, until October 8
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to date an AFL player from the ’90s, STUD plays the part of a stage simulation run amok.
Winner of Best Comedy at Melbourne Fringe in 2022, and taking out the gong for Best Newcomer at this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival, Aiden Willcox crafts a psyche that is repugnantly boorish – honing in on a myriad of alpha-male, hyper-masculine stereotypes.
Pacing the stage with a Johnny Bravo bravado, Willcox attempts to serenade and seduce the crowd through song and sketch. It’s enjoyable character comedy – but nothing that hasn’t been mastered before (think Zoë Coombs Marr’s all-conquering Dave). The toilet humour, as well, overstays its welcome and becomes wince-inducing.
STUD is akin to a one-night stand in your 20s with the titular character: fine enough, but nothing you’d tell your mother about.
Reviewed by Tyson Wray
COMEDY
Leave to Enter | Nick Robertson ★★★
Festival Hub, Trades Hall, Evatt Room, until October 8
Nick Robertson wants to get something off his chest – so he’s written his first show. After charmingly professing that “there’s a magic in storytelling”, he relays a 45-minute tale of adventure and mishap.
Robertson mainly mines a singular experience – being deported from Scotland – to find the funny.
As the story unfolds, the laughs come with repeated mentions of “the best film of all time”, his mother and his favourite free-to-play tile-matching online video game.
Robertson’s likeable demeanour adds a little shine to the story. He quickly recovers each time there’s a slight fumble or minor stumble.
A Backstreet Boys soundtrack laces the honest account with nostalgia, while the use of a screen and basic graphics is entertaining and effective.
So, what is the best film of all time according to Robertson? Well, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise
Reviewed by Donna Demaio
COMEDY
Death Metal Boomer | Dan Brader ★★
Caz Reitop’s Dirty Secrets, until October 8
The show begins nearly half an hour later than scheduled due to another performance running overtime. Sure, I think, it’s like a punk or metal gig, where runtimes are usually slightly off. But when Death Metal Boomer eventually begins, Dan Brader immediately launches into improv.
It takes a while of audience banter to enter the show proper, not long after a loud Canadian guy and his friends egg Brader on to do a shoey after finding out he’s from New Zealand. He obliges, then proceeds to perform the entire gig shoeless.
The show itself is unmemorable, with many self-deprecating “gee whiz I’m Kiwi” piss takes alongside some quite misogynistic jokes. This could very well be the titular “death metal boomer” personified, but because Brader never contextualises this he really could be any questionable white guy. Even so, why don’t we leave those relics to fade into obscurity? As he repeatedly reminds the audience, he’s 40 years old. The death metal scene now is –if one bothers to observe –much more progressive. It’s 2023: punch up, not down.
Reviewed by Cher Tan
COMEDY
Eulogiser Bunny | Cameron Ribbons ★
Trades Hall, until October 8
This is probably the kind of comedy gig you need to be drunk to appreciate. I certainly wished I’d socked down a few. The premise is intriguing enough. Comedian Cameron Ribbons hosts his own funeral in the guise of a dodgy pastor. The promise of a murder mystery hovers in the air, and the audience is invited to guess the culprit as details of the artist’s demise are revealed.
Unfortunately, the murder mystery is a MacGuffin. Eulogiser Bunny is basically a stand-up show and, well, if you enjoy dad humour and terrible puns, go for your life.
Audible groans. Barbecue-stoppers. Several jokes so lame the mind immediately repressed them. I do recall an ill-judged mention of the Voice referendum – in support of it obviously – but still, why risk depressing the audience at a comedy show? As for a pronoun gag? Ha. Your funeral.
Perhaps it was opening night nerves: the filmed sections were funnier. The live stuff, though, was an evident strain even for the performer, and Ribbons got louder not better.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead
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