What’s good (and what’s great) at this year’s comedy festival

This year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival is in full swing. Keep an eye on our ever-growing list of reviews here.

Jin Hao Li | Swimming In A Submarine
Chinese Museum, until April 18

Twenty years I’ve been at this, and I’m struggling to come up with a Melbourne debut as strong as Jin Hao Li’s. Trying to figure out how he works his magic makes me feel like a snail staring at a human and then attempting to copy the walk.

Swimming In A Submarine is at the Chinese Museum until April 18.

And wondrous, wonderful and wonder-filled this hour is. The closest comparison might be The Mighty Boosh’s unforgettable first show here.

On paper, Li’s subjects might seem twee – the perils of dating a ghost, why yakuza deserve baths – but there’s an astonishing rigour underpinning his writing, which can take multiple unexpected turns in a single sentence. Loosely structured around dreams and nightmares from his childhood, the show is equal parts silly, philosophical, heart-warming and irreverent. He’s only been doing this for three years? Outrageous. Don’t be fooled by his gentle, welcoming stage persona: here lies a comic wit sharp enough to draw blood.
★★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Desiree Burch | The Golden Wrath
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 20

Big Perimenopausal Energy fuels some of this show’s most gut-busting laughs, which is not a phrase you expected to read today. That Desiree Burch can have audiences of all demographics howling over something many would struggle to define is testament to rare comic chops. The Los Angeles-raised, UK-based stand-up takes on a subject that, comedy-wise, has a degree of difficulty that would leave most cowering. Hot damn, she nails it.

The Golden Wrath is at the Melbourne Town Hall until April 20.

It helps that the “peri-peri” wasn’t even recognised until recently, making it one of the few fields that comedy hasn’t already stripped bare. Apart from Miranda July’s recent mega-hit, All Fours, there isn’t much that gets so honest about the ups and downs of being a woman in her mid-40s. Burch rips off the cloak of invisibility that is cast over middle age, however, and her keen mind (Yale-educated, actually) isn’t afraid to take detours through some absolutely surreal filthiness. This is a wild, whirlwind ride through uncharted waters.
★★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Noah Szto | Med School
ACMI, until April 20

He can sing, he can dance, he can perform medical procedures. Newly minted doctor Noah Szto brings together music, comedy and PowerPoint to offer a skew-eyed look into the realities of what it takes to pursue a career in medicine.

Med School is at ACMI until April 20.Credit: Ian Laidlaw

While Szto does not shy away from getting into the weeds of his particular experiences, he does a deft job of navigating both the specific and the broad. If you are or know someone who is in the medical field, there are enough “in” jokes to make you feel catered to, but not so many to be alienating to everyone else. Yes, this is a show all about medicine and med school, in particular – Szto performs the whole thing in scrubs (and, yes, there is a minor medical procedure as promised). At the same time, if you’ve never set foot in a hospital, the running themes – art v science, prestige over precarity, loss of identity, and being worn down by an institution – extend far beyond the medical field.

If you’ve ever had to make the sensible choice over following your passions, the core of this show taps into that complex web of feelings, jazzes it up with a song, a dance and a laugh, and offers up a glimmer of hope.
★★★★
Reviewed by Elizabeth Flux

Emma Holland | Don’t Touch My Trinkets
ACMI, until April 20

Art lover Emma Holland’s origin story begins with being told off for touching the iconic Capitoline Wolf statue in Rome. Denied this contact, she embarks on a life where she will have unfettered access by making her own, which she displays here for us (but no touching).

Don’t Touch My Trinkets is at ACMI until April 20. Credit: Your Local Film Lab

Don’t Touch My Trinkets artfully combines physical comedy, props, audience engagement and PowerPoint presentation. Holland has many strings to her comedy bow and plays them to perfection, eliciting delighted laughter from the audience. She works the crowd with ease, using direct eye contact and the smallest of gestures to draw the whole room in.

As Holland ends the show, she raises questions about her own relationship to art, creativity and audience. What ethical quandaries does it bring up? Have we become complicit in her weaponising the art form of comedy? It’s an interesting question that Holland ultimately leaves hanging, instead opting for an ending with more laughs.
★★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Anisa Nandaula | You Can’t Say That
The Victoria Hotel, until April 20

Anisa Nandaula is disarmingly charming, luring you in with her warmth and candour onstage. She shares how she acclimatised to Australian culture after migrating from Uganda, growing up in blaringly white cities in Queensland.

You Can’t Say That is at the Victoria Hotel until April 20.

Nandaula’s approach is conversational, from asking audience members casual questions, like their vocation, to more probing ones, such as if they’ve ever cut anyone out of their lives, eliciting interesting responses. For those unnerved by the limelight, she gives them latitude to rebuff her advances by responding with a “bye b—”. This generates an air of comfort, with one attendee chiming in on Nandaula’s enquiry about culturally diverse friendship groups: “There’s black people in Thornbury!”

Her set starts off a little awkwardly as she occasionally falters her delivery and doesn’t quite land the punchlines. When she eventually hits her groove, she’s unstoppable, playing out scenarios with a bombastic side-eye and confident strut. If you’re seeking a comedic act that will keep you at ease, Nandaula should be your pick.
★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Harry Jun | Friendship Safari
The Greek – Apollo, until April 20

Most classic stand-up falls into one of three categories: contrarian edgelord, trauma spiller, affable friend. Luckily, Harry Jun belongs to the latter, and that might just be the whole point of his show.

Friendship Safari is at The Greek until April 20.

While Friendship Safari is ostensibly about friendship and its complexities, Jun moves swiftly onto other subjects. There are snippets from a previous life as a schoolteacher – among other life stories – with some bemusing curveballs. His past wrangling dead-eyed teen children turns out to be a skill set transferable to bringing high energy to a quiet night. The night I go, only three people are in the audience. Yet, Jun takes it on the chin and delivers the show nonetheless with aplomb, although his brio gives way to a glimmer of defeat at the very end.

If every comedian’s got a schtick, Jun’s is trivia. There’s a sense of watching an earnest friend regale you with their learnings and seeing how much fun they have doing it. In a world of chaos and irony, Jun’s sincerity charms.
★★★
Reviewed by Cher Tan

Suren Jayemanne | There’s A World Where My Head Ought To Be
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 20

There’s a World Where My Head Ought Be is at the Melbourne Town Hall until April 20.

Suren Jayemanne used to sell himself as the guy who gave up accounting to do comedy, but is now turning over a new leaf. When someone else called him an artist, he saw himself as one for the first time. He’s a smart comedian and unafraid to raise the stakes.

Jayemanne is also having somewhat of an identity crisis provoked by getting a new photograph for his license. It’s worse than you think. In his photo, he’s a white woman. His time waiting at VicRoads has Jayemanne considering the divine within ourselves, and he thinks we should all be considering it, too.

It’s the kind of smart comedy brave enough to bring big questions into the room and rely on the gravity of the story to bring the humour. The result is a satisfying show with something to say.
★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Alanah Parkin | Garage Sale
Double Tree by Hilton, until April 6

Allow yourself to be transported to Narre Warren South (39 kilometres south-east of Melbourne) for Alanah Parkin’s debut solo show, where older couple Denise and Greg are downsizing – hence, holding a garage sale.

Garage Sale is at DoubleTree by Hilton until April 6.

Among the sale items strewn across the stage are hats, scarves, doilies and a video porn collection. A wonderfully unpredictable, somewhat chaotic, 50 minutes of escalating comedy-drama ensues, presented by a variety of lively, absurd characters. Grandma is a hoot.

A litany of giggles follows as the audience is invited to participate in a Jane Fonda-esque workout routine. Video and voiceover vignettes allow Parkin to dart backstage for necessary costume changes, giving rise to amusing moments. Clearly gifted, Parkin revels in gloriously ridiculous scenarios (picture a poetry-reciting rag-doll or a self-help guide for aged-out choir boys) in a quirky show that takes a rather unexpected turn.
★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Pierre Novellie | Must We?
The Westin, until April 18

It’s easy to warm to this giant Millennial good boy in a baby-blue suit. His crisp delivery and Attenborough-esque enthusiasm might not endear him to the more blokey comedy crowd, but anyone at the Douglas Adams end of the humour spectrum will find themselves in good hands here.

Must We? is at The Westin until April 18.

He’s a detail guy: an impromptu bit of audience banter has him noting that our shrinking chocolate teddy bear snacks are due to illegal gold mining in Ghana. His brain carries a lot that way.

The show’s first third is likeable if not groundbreaking guy-with-a-mic bizzo, but the remainder is tighter and generates those barks of recognition that fine observational comedy evokes. The show sticks the landing, too, with a quietly insistent reminder that stand-up, like society, must be a broad church if its members are to survive. (And for the blokes: denim condoms.)
★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Alex Ward | Clip Clop Don’t Stop
Swiss Club, until April 20

Do you have pretty privilege? You probably don’t know if you do, according to how the theory goes. Alex Ward is convinced she has something similar: pretty approachable. That’s where you have a face that welcomes everyone and anyone to strike up conversation, ask you for directions or assume you work here … wherever here happens to be.

Clip Clop Don’t Stop is at the Swiss Club until April 20.

Being approachable has led to some entertaining situations, which Ward easily wins over her audience by telling us about. This show is filled with likeable banter and quick jokes. Mostly the target of her humour is herself, making her material all the more approachable. It’s relatable humour to go with her relatable face.

This is a neatly structured show which takes satisfying sidetracks, entertaining diversions and clever callbacks. The audience keeps up a steady rate of laughter throughout. It takes skill to make it look this easy, which Ward does.
★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Zoë Coombs Marr | The Splash Zone
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 20

Zoë Coombs Marr is a master of meta. Her fast-paced comedy can be variously subversive, confoundingly circular and wildly clever. The Splash Zone is a light-hearted offering – and about as straight up and down as Marr gets.

The Splash Zone is at the Melbourne Town Hall until April 20.Credit: Christa Holka

We hear of growing up in Grafton, in northern NSW, life-defining moments that arrive while waiting for a train, Aussies abroad and Americans Down Under, and Trump-loving patrons who seem a bit lost. References to ADHD and audience distractions collide with commentary on social fragmentation, conspiracy theories and the growing disconnect between thoughts and facts.

As a whole, the show relies too much on said audience distractions and cultural references. Some of the punchlines are predictably daggy, but the fans lap them up. While Marr’s award-winning character, Dave, skewered gendered structures in comedy to perfection almost a decade ago, a sidebar here about nasty male comedians misses the mark at a festival that has made increasing efforts to celebrate diversity in recent years. It’s early in the run, but Marr’s latest offering feels somewhat disjointed itself. Then again, perhaps that’s the point.
★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Amy Gledhill | Make Me Look Fit On The Poster
The Westin, until April 5

We’re barely two minutes into Amy Gledhill’s show and the audience is already swinging underwear in the air.

Make Me Look Fit On The Poster is at The Westin until April 5.

Just to be clear, no one was actually undressing – but having a show start with strangers handling mysterious undergarments certainly loosens a crowd up. This is what Gledhill’s stand-up is all about – stripping down to crack up.

Fresh off the back of her award-winning Edinburgh Fringe Festival run, she shares personal tales like she’s chatting with a best friend. We learn about her experiences of “cursed” oral sex, and the time she mistook Stranger Things’ Finn Wolfhard for a “little tiny orphan boy”. Sprinkled in between the gags, she confides in us about her admittedly low self-esteem and warped body image.

Granted, not every yarn sticks the landing – a three-minute spiel about how much toilet paper she accumulates fizzles hard – and some of her references are too British to translate to an Australian crowd. But what she lacks in knee-slapping punchlines, she makes up for in both physical comedy (her re-enactment of dangling from a tree like a “little ginger bauble” was chef’s kiss) and genuine relatability.

Maintaining knicker-swinging energy for an hour is no easy feat, but Gledhill gives it a fair crack.
★★★
Reviewed by Nell Geraets

Flo & Joan starring George Fouracres | One Man Musical
Arts Centre Melbourne - Fairfax Studio, until April 20

Comedic duo Flo & Joan have built a show around the idea that nothing brings people together like hating Andrew Lloyd Webber. They’re back this year with a 60-minute, high-energy tour of the man they describe as a legendary “cockroach of the West End”. Or, for legal reasons, a purely farcical one-man show about a random cat-loving narcissist who loves organ-heavy riffs and hating Lin-Manuel Miranda.

The show was a runaway hit at Edinburgh Fringe last year. Part-swansong, part-musical biopic, Flo & Joan fill the show to the brim with biographical details and melodic parodies of Webber’s classic style. Meanwhile, actor George Fouracres plays a short-tempered and entitled Webber, sitting on a throne dressed in purple velvet as he swings from the self-obsessed showstopper, All About Me, to nostalgic ballads mourning his glory days.

One Man Musical is on at Arts Centre Melbourne until April 20.

Moments that parodied Webber stood out over those that simply recounted his life. One scene, backed by bubble machines and technicolour lighting, married creative pastiche and biography spectacularly. But the show ultimately struggles to make the leap from Fringe venue to the Arts Centre’s Fairfax Studio.

Muted sound design left Fouracres out in the cold, making his high-octane delivery style seem overzealous and his high-pitched vocals like an attempt to overcompensate by yelling. It’s a bit grating. But for that reason, maybe One Man Musical has perfectly captured what it might be like to spend an hour with this living legend – for better or for worse.
★★★
Reviewed Guy Webster

Jude Perl Tries To Finish A Sentence
Arts Centre Melbourne – The Show Room, until April 20

As the title of this show suggests, Jude Perl finds herself unable to say anything that doesn’t upset someone and is hyper focused on using “correct” language when expressing herself. Hence, why she can’t finish a sentence unless she’s belting out tunes on her piano.

Jude Perl Tries To Finish A Sentence is at Arts Centre Melbourne until April 20.

There’s something interesting to be said about the age of moral outrage we’re currently in and the polarised views that rest on either end of the spectrum. But Perl’s prevaricating show veers perilously close to embracing moral ambiguity at a time when crusades are being waged against “wokeism” and clear-eyed renunciations of injustice are being met with suppression.

The framing of Perl’s show is such, but the scaffolding is weak as well. Perl inhabits different characters – a sentence mentor, an uncouth best man at a wedding, a cancelled pop star of yesteryears – to express the difficulty of forming a thought in the oversaturated world we live in and the corrosive power of nostalgia.

The effect is disjointed and fractured – Perl acknowledges it herself, but that doesn’t make it any less so. Apart from a few titters, the audience is so quiet I can hear the person behind me drumming their nails against their glass.

Perl is undeniably clever and talented – her voice and piano-playing skills are virtuosic. In a memorable song about finally making a definitive statement about something, there’s a glimmer of what this hour could’ve been. There are times when it feels like Perl will tie all the disparate ideas of her show together, but she’s always reaching.
★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

The Age is a Melbourne International Comedy Festival partner.

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