While their gender-affirming surgery is the centrepiece of the show, this is also an ode to the familial support they have in their life.

The show flies in the face of Tolstoy’s idea that all happy families are alike (and, by implication, boring). Keyworth celebrates how their family’s love has shaped them, and allowed Keyworth to shape themselves.

Lest it seem that it is more story than comedy, let me reassure you the laughs are thick and fast. This is a consummately delivered show by an accomplished performer who has the audience in the palm of their hand.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Nina Conti | Your Face or Mine
The Capitol, until April 14

If the idea of a ventriloquist whose rude puppet says things that she won’t sounds familiar, how about a ventriloquist who also uses audience members as puppets?

In this ingenious set-up, Conti brings her trusted monkey plus a whole wardrobe of grotesque masks that transform people into dummies, their mouths controlled mechanically by a squeeze-handle connected via cord.

She starts by putting words into one man’s mouth, riffing in real time off his body language. But soon she’s operating two siblings simultaneously, then four Irish lasses, co-choreographing a whole dance routine.

Conti’s talent is simply jaw-dropping, so to speak.

To say she is quick off the mark is not quite it – it’s more like she’s inside her people-puppets’ minds, anticipating what they’re about to say or do even before they can.

Did I forget to mention she’s bloody hilarious? Conti’s improvisation skills and puppetry combined make for crowd work on a whole other level. It’s an experience like nothing else.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Rhys Nicholson | Huge Big Party Congratulations
Comedy Republic & Melbourne Town Hall, until April 21

There are few greater pleasures in Australian comedy than watching Rhys Nicholson in full flight.

The former winner of Most Outstanding Show at the festival skirts the most delicate of boundaries. They’re acidic but never toxic, bratty but never bitchy. They have the innate ability to express the inner voice we all confine to the back of our minds. It’s somewhat cathartic to watch.

Throughout the hour, Nicholson’s scathing observations, stories of growing up with bankrupt parents, and thoughts on relationships and drugs land with relentless aplomb – all delivered in their signature cadence.

It’s no wonder their entire run sold out – extra shows have been added in the final week of the festival in a much larger venue.

This is yet another excellent show from a comedian who dependably rises to a high standard.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Zoë Coombs Marr | Every Single Thing In My Whole Entire Life
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 21

Zoë Coombs Marr’s best mates have a head start, admin-wise, if the award-winning comedian ever gets married or dies.

Battling a prolonged funk last year, “she/her with a they/them rising” decided to catalogue her entire life in one mind-bogglingly hyperlinked and many-tabbed spreadsheet. It’s the perfect source material for congratulation/commiseration speeches. Or for a rib-hurting hour of seemingly chaotic but actually expertly controlled stand-up.

Pivoting through the spreadsheet’s many wonky wormholes, selecting cells to expand upon at whim, means no audience will get the same madcap show.

Our night covered everything from random pavement pukes Marr’s photographed over the years (much to the chagrin of her partner) to a catalogue of exes, including a surprising boy whose appearance delivers a mic-drop one-liner.

More “mundane” achievements – like eyebrow-raising haircuts, uni assessments and being born – are also skewered.

Gloriously off-the-wall, Marr fires through an astonishingly high-concept show with seemingly contradictory low-key charm, something she Excels at.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Stephen A Russell

Kevin Jin | Comedy Duo
The Dove Club, until April 21

One of the first things to discover about Kevin Jin’s show Comedy Duo is that there isn’t a duo. It’s his (Chinese) name. And it’s a whole thing: a guided meditation, but also a multimedia presentation about who he is, his origin stories.

On a few occasions, Jin screens a slide with the yin and yang logo, which he explains represents a duality between tension and release, plus another interpretation I can’t spoil for its delicious dankness.

Then the story comes into the foreground: his childhood growing up as a Chinese-Australian son of a single mum in Sydney. Comedy about subjects such as trauma and neurodivergence may be an easy reach in these times, but Jin gets beneath the layers, tries to tease out their jocularity, while his quick-wittedness pierces through even the most uncomfortable moments. As he says midway through, “I don’t care about what’s good or bad, I care about what’s interesting.” Here is a comedian who’s earnest yet wry, isn’t an edgelord, and punches up—no mean feat.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cher Tan

Reuben Kaye | Apocalipstik
The Malthouse - Merlyn Theatre, until April 21

You might remember Reuben Kaye for the smutty Jesus joke he told on The Project last year, which drew controversy and complaint, and – in a kneejerk reaction that even some Christians found a bit weird – caused the program’s presenters to apologise for offending viewers.

It was a storm in a teacup.

Shamelessness – and the kind of hypersexual banter familiar to anyone who’s seen a drag show – are integral to Kaye’s outrageous onstage appeal, and his latest show, Apocalipstik, combines rock-star queer cabaret, ribald stand-up, a smattering of political invective, and a lurid yarn pulled from the vault of Kaye family history.

That riveting story is about Kaye’s East German uncle, who lived a secret life, escaped Communist rule, and came to a sticky end. Perhaps a more intimate theatrical style might have fully unlocked the tale’s emotional complexity, and the music doesn’t always serve the material. Still, Kaye is a vocal and comedic powerhouse, and audiences will be swept up by this extravagant end-time cabaret.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

Jenny Tian | Chinese Australian: A Tale of Internet Fame
ACMI – Swinburne Studio, until 21 April

Actor and comedian Jenny Tian – whose stand-up audience has grown following an exponential rise on social media – structures her routine like an algorithm, playing content on a vertical TikTok-like screen.

Unlike other Sydney-based comedians, she doesn’t adapt state-specific humour (aside from mentioning her viral “Melbourne v Sydney” content). Instead, she draws on relatable dating and work anecdotes, her Chinese-Australian identity, and mocking social media content creators – despite being one herself – to anchor her routine. When lines don’t land, she professes sarcastically, “I didn’t just write this today … I’ll work on it”.

Tian acknowledges that her bogan accent defies stereotypes and plays it up, describing a video version of herself as an “absolute c--t”. When she discloses the hurt she feels from xenophobic comments online, it creates an odd tonal shift but feels refreshing all the same.

A show with well-executed multimedia integration from a skilled digital personality.
★★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Sweeney Preston and Ethan Cavanagh | In pour taste: A Comedy Wine Tasting Experience
ReWine CBD, until April 21

In a teeny wine bar, metres from Queen Victoria Market, Kylie Minogue bleats from the sound system as two blokes bounce around, guiding arrivals to their seat.

Sweeney Preston and Ethan Cavanagh host a charmingly silly 90-minute deep-dive into the world of wine tasting. There’s tall-tale-telling, word games and loads of crowd work. It’s a refreshingly convivial vibe. And as each wine is poured (five in total) the conviviality escalates … naturally.

Ribbing both some latecomers and a person who shared that they don’t drink wine, no one in the crowd is safe from being uproariously lampooned by the sharp duo.

Occasional scene stealer and wine expert Jordy Veltheer features from behind the bar, dropping zingers he’s concocted since he first met the comedic duo in a bar in Hobart, a few years ago.

As one man wipes away tears of hilarity, Cavanagh encourages him to take a breath between guffaws.

By show’s end, the room learns a lot about wine while imbibing whites and reds - culminating in a gloriously enthusiastic singalong to The Wiggles’ Hot Potato.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Nazeem Hussain | Totally Normal
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 21

Nazeem Hussain’s latest rapid-fire set aimed at racism includes collateral damage of his no-boundaries Sri Lankan family (mostly his mum, who insisted on coming to schoolies).

His experience of the changing face of airport security, post 9/11, from ’roided white hulks to fellow brown guys more likely to wave him through than they are a “Bali-bound bogan”, does not miss, nor does a bit on the bizarre hero worship of Ned Kelly.

In Totally Normal, Hussain tells his audience that in 2014, fretful execs spent a fortune digitally removing the slogan “Free Gaza” from a T-shirt he once wore on Legally Brown, the TV show that made his name. Staying quiet at the time for fear of ending his nascent career, he’s no longer afraid.

Channelling nightmarish news into boundary-pushing hilarity, he takes aim at British involvement in the Balfour Declaration and the Partition of India, comparing the consequences to a skeevy Cash Converters guy’s shrug, “I didn’t know it was stolen”. Boom.
★★★★
Reviewed by Stephen A Russell

Melanie Bracewell | Attack of the Melanie Bracewell
Max Watt’s, until April 21

What would you do if you could trace the culprit who stole your AirPods?

Melanie Bracewell’s amusing attempt to unearth this malefactor is the through-line of her latest show, as she grapples with how to unleash her rage as a mild-mannered Kiwi and exact justice for her ears.

At six feet two inches, Bracewell’s long-limbed lankiness is integral to her comedy as she prowls across the stage, aided by the judicious use of a slideshow and the smooth integration of crowd work into her routine.

Segues are seamless as she flits effortlessly from the perils of riding a bike in Melbourne, to the process of getting an IUD inserted, to the status symbol afforded to reusable water bottles. Those familiar with Bracewell’s past life as a netball pro won’t be disappointed on this front as she spins gold out of an interaction with a good-natured audience member new to the game.

The queen of well-earned callbacks and a master of wordplay, Bracewell’s always one step ahead of her audience.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Catherine Bohart | Again, With Feelings
The Westin, until April 21

With manic motormouth delivery, Irish comic Catherine Bohart bursts out of the gates and doesn’t give the audience a second to catch their breath as she whirlwinds through a sublime hour.

She pummels through topics, traversing her parents’ concerns about her being unmarried in her mid-30s, the gender standards that come with having a generational age gap in a relationship, and how to decide which partner should carry the child in a queer romance. She also floors the room with an R18+ punchline regarding sharehouse foraging for crockery that left several more prudish audience members gasping.

Truth be told, the material never deviates far from standard comic fodder. But her blistering execution and rapid-fire gags make it impossible to complain. The interspersed audience interaction, while used sparingly, is first-rate.

A gem of the festival waiting to be unearthed – don’t sleep on it.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Geraldine Hickey | Don’t Tease Me About My Gloves
Arts Centre Melbourne, until April 21

Attending a Geraldine Hickey show feels like a much-anticipated annual check-in on what has been going on in her world.

Don’t Tease Me About My Gloves sees Hickey in a more contemplative space than her previous few offerings. No wonder given the year she’s had, including being diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder (thus the gloves), giving up drinking, and her father’s death.

The mood of the show is reflective, the stories delivered with Hickey’s disarmingly affable style. It’s a show about facing challenges: some big, like losing a loved one; some small(er), like taking the hard road up a mountain. But all of them a lighter load after Hickey finds the humour within, which, remarkably, she does. It’s a gift to be able to bring humour to the hardest times.

Every year it feels like Hickey brings more of her authentic self, and this deeply personal offering is all the better for its honesty.
★★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

John Hastings | Comedian John
Victoria Hotel, until April 21

With a neutral face that could belong as much to a kindergarten teacher as to a serial killer, John Hastings knows how to play with his audience’s preconceptions. He’s big, white and Canadian, but you’re never sure if he’s as soft as a cloud or as tough as an iceberg. You trust him, basically, but – as he tells us – he also gets thumbsy-uppies from white supremacists on public transport.

In recent years, he’s been a festival regular. He doesn’t command huge rooms here, but he’s won the attention of high-profile comics who are tuned in to his tight crowd-work and ability to paint vivid word pictures.

The show steers clear of any cohesive thread, instead going wherever the funny leads us, from a first-hand account of butt chugging (please don’t let curiosity stain your search history) to the effect of stripping naked in the face of a mugger. You’re with him all the way, but glad you weren’t there at the time.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Tom Walker | My Treasures My Beautiful Treasures
Trades Hall, until April 21

Since taking out Best Newcomer at the 2016 comedy fest, Tom Walker has secured a fearsome reputation as a Collins-class weirdo – off the radar for most, but able to blow his loyal fans’ minds. He’s an ‘if you know, you know’ comic. If you don’t, you might want to pre-book a few therapy sessions before braving this one.

The treasures of the show’s title are the deeply pathetic but generally harmless men he ‘collects’. If that sounds a mite creepy, strap in. Walker harbours a fanatical passion for scouring niche internet forums, vacuuming up the life stories of gents even stranger than he is. To list the predilections of these fellas would be less spoiler than repellent, yet in Walker’s care their unprintable desires take on a patina of innocence, like babies caught doing something that would mean jail time for the rest of us. It’s as if Wrongtown and Pleasantville share the same postcode, and Walker is mayor of both.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Lou Wall | The Bisexual’s Lament
ACMI – The Gandel Lab, Trades Hall – Solidarity Hall, until April 21

What would you do if you’d just lived through an “absolute c--t of a year”? If you’re a comedian, you’d turn it into a show.

Informed by the adage tragedy + time = comedy, Wall launches onstage with one of the most entertaining openings to a show – moving in perfect unison with a ’90s-style slideshow and gothic font detailing the worst moments of their previous year.

Wall catalogued the 853 things that made them laugh in this torrid time, but homes in on 69 (hehe) for the purposes of this show.

Bolstered by their musical chops and excellent multimedia skills, they take aim at classic generational mishaps: frustrating Facebook Marketplace exchanges (a highlight) and the challenges of renting from mercenary landlords among them, all while finding salvation in the therapy offered by memes and chatGPT.

But while the loose narrative structure of the show provides it with cohesion, it’s also a slightly uneven and rushed jumble of ideas.

Even before Wall makes a harrowing admission almost halfway through the show, they’re mining exceedingly dark material for laughs – lapped up by an audience who spend their days exchanging dank memes about unaliving and yeeting.
★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Kirsty Webeck | I’ll Be The Judge Of That
The Westin Three, until April 21

Kirsty Webeck spends the entirety of I’ll Be The Judge Of That with a smile on her face, delivering an hour of upbeat material. What’s being judged is mostly how people behave towards each other, with our performer welcoming us to judge her as much as she passes judgment on others.

Webeck is adept at taking a good setup past the obvious punchline to somewhere unexpected. With material ranging from a particularly difficult gig to how she’s judged by farmers, her warmth shines through.

It’s an ideal show to see if you want to be assured of no audience interaction, keep clear of controversy and leave feeling cheery. It’s the little things that amuse Webeck. The show doesn’t take a dark turn or try to impart a morality tale, it’s just good clean fun. Webeck is likeable and this is a show with broad appeal.
★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Laura Davis | Albatross
Doubletree by Hilton, until April 21

Cult favourite Laura Davis offers an unusual lens on the world, and the world of comedy.

From starting the show off-stage to finishing over time, there’s a meandering fluidity to this show that, at times, is magic, while at others misses the mark.

There’s beauty, dark humour and metaphors aplenty – often including birds, both alive and dead. Davis insists she’s a comedian and not a poet, but there is gorgeous poetry in her writing, as there always has been.

As a complete entity, however, this show feels ambivalent and uneven, and lacks some of the more madcap elements that have elevated previous shows.

The laughs peter out somewhat towards the end, where the otherwise largely personal show is tied up with a clunky bow of Australian social commentary. It’s not the strongest note to finish on, especially coming from someone who has moved abroad.
★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Grace Jarvis | Oh! The Horrors!
Melbourne Town Hall - Backstage Room, until April 21

Twenty-something Grace Jarvis is on a mission to bridge the widening generation gap … and hopefully save humanity with her expert pattern recognition skills.

If that sounds ambitious, it is, and the jokes about Boomer quirks and the misunderstanding of Generation Z have her falling at the first hurdle.

Some of the funniest content centres around Jarvis’ experience of sex and dating with a disability. Other jokes rely a little too much on cultural references and run the risk of being unfamiliar to some audience members.

Jarvis is also quick to label aspects of her life or personality as particularly unusual or dark, which doesn’t always ring true. She isn’t the only comedian at the festival dealing with an autism diagnosis, weird family members, climate change and the prospect of impending world war. There are some good observations in here and Jarvis has plenty of charm, but she might allow more room for the material to speak for itself, and for her audience to make their own judgments.
★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

The 34th Annual Great Debate
Melbourne Town Hall, April 7

It’s the technological advancement that launched a thousand think-pieces, and this year it landed on The Great Debate stage: “That AI is OK.”

Featuring Sammy J (affirmative captain) with Catherine Bohart and Guy Williams, locking horns against Luke McGregor (negative captain) with Benjamin Law and Lou Wall, they tussled for and in opposition to artificial intelligence. Will it lead to a more futuristic prosperous world, or make us all redundant in a society where we can’t compete with our soon-to-be robot overlords?

Sammy J coaxed the crowd with studies recounting that AI can now outperform law school graduates and how the original version was the much-maligned Microsoft Clippy; McGregor responded by recalling global stories of voice-mimicking being used by scammers and newly designed robots assaulting women.

A side note: if you ever ran into either of these men during high school, you would know they were destined to be debate captains.

Bohart was scintillating with observations of why technology designed by men is generally used for having sex with it, and why this can be a positive for women. Law took a more bleak route when revealing the blatantly racist standards AI has of minorities and having his own intellectual property stolen. Williams was the lowlight of the evening, with a meandering and stunted offering of material clumsily weaved into the topic at hand. His constant references to having intercourse with the elderly were terribly received.

Thankfully, the dam of laughter burst in a searing set by Wall. Demonstrating the implications AI could have in the wrong hands, they deployed a backlog of Sammy J’s recordings from breakfast radio to make it seem as though he were declaring hatred of his employer, the ABC; a deepfake of Bohart “admitting” she isn’t actually Irish or queer; and another deepfake, this time (jokingly) implicating Williams in the Leongatha mushroom poisoning.

Sammy J rebutted with an impressive song that ChatGPT wrote on the spot; and McGregor followed with society’s inability to put aside our differences and use technology for a positive.

But this contest had concluded 20 minutes prior in favour of the negative team with the blistering knock-out blows by Wall. A centimetre-perfect performance that AI is a long, long way away from reaching the same heights.
★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Tom Cashman | Everything
Basement Comedy Club (Morris House), until April 21

Shows drawing on slideshows are a dime a dozen at this year’s festival, but Tom Cashman’s use of screen prompts has to be one of the best.

Signposted by disparate headings like “romance”, “technology” and “language”, Cashman launches into sprawling anecdotes punctuated to great effect by screenshots of DMs, emails and his dating profile; bar charts exposing his love language (data); and footage of him being stitched up on a certain primetime talk show.