Contradicting the misogynistic voiceover that alludes to the idea that women and comedy are incompatible, Kaur runs through a set list of topics that appear to affirm stereotypes perpetuated by men, but in fact, end up subverting them.

From talking about race to sex to periods to ghost tours, Kaur’s jokes are relatable and intelligent, delivered in a deadpan fashion designed to eventuate in an unconventional punchline.

Comparing ghosting to a tardy period and deciding to bridge the orgasm gap by leaving a man hanging after she climaxes, Kaur uses clever metaphors, statistics and real-life anecdotes to make astute observations about gender dynamics and everyday life. Her tale about a brothel is a highlight.

Kaur is a quirky goblin, and the witty antithesis of Zooey Deschanel and every other manic pixie dream girl.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Garry Starr | Greece Lightning
Comedy Republic, until April 23

The bumbling Garry Starr – the brainchild of comedian Damien Warren-Smith – is on a mission to drive tourism to his Hellenic homeland, deep in the throes of an “ergonomic procession”. What ensues is an hour of hilarity full of malapropisms, the best puns, superb use of expertly crafted props, excellent sound design and plenty of audience participation as Starr performs the entire history of Greek mythology.

No row is immune in Starr’s show, but it’s testament to the safe space Starr’s created that the “sausages” are up for almost anything.

You’ll struggle to catch your breath and wipe your tears as Starr moves from one sequence to the next at an electrifying pace.

Hercules punctuates the show with progressively zanier shows of strength. Atlas leaps off Gaia, a big bouncy ball, in a G-string. Oedipus raps to a masterfully reworked version of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. A Uranus joke (you know it) is carried out to its most unbelievable conclusion.

Starr’s rambunctious antics belie how intelligent and tightly structured this exhilarating hour of sidesplittingly funny physical comedy is – never has Mount Olympus been so joyfully resurrected.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Sonny Yang’s Incredibly Stupid Adventure Game
Trades Hall – Music Room, until April 23

Sonny Yang sits silently on stage while operating a dual screen with his laptop, taking audiences on a choose-your-own-adventure journey that looks a lot like an ’80s video game.

Like Carmen Sandiego, audiences piece together clues through a series of multiple-choice options in order to find Yang’s fictional lost nephew.

Initially reckless in their choices, making selections based on impulse and curiosity, the crowd starts to get into the rhythm of the caper, becoming more risk-averse with their directives as time starts to run out.

The concept is simple yet clever, combining lo-fi pixelated images and robotically voiced characters to create ridiculous scenarios and obstacles – from an open mic night to a neo-Nazi encounter – to repeatedly thwart Yang’s mission to retrieve the child.

This show is incredibly fun for those that enjoy escape rooms and solving puzzles. An addictive, wacky idea that’ll test your fortitude and mental aptitude as Yang toys with you along the way.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Tim Key | Mulberry
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 23

It takes some balls for a Brit to bring a show about lockdowns to Melbourne. In the most locked down city in the world, it was always going to be risky material.

The funny thing about “iso” is, it has a way of bending time. It matters not whether you endured nine weeks or nine months. We all experienced the equivalent of ordering a live cow on the internet, sewing an AI assistant to a teddy bear for company, or graduating from beer to champagne to glue.

There are many layers here, woven with poetry, poignancy and, of course, masterful live comedy. Key’s schtick of reciting absurdist musings, written on playing cards pulled from his pocket, is still one of the most refreshing things you’ll see at the festival. The knowing delivery and self caricature are dynamite. Looming beneath it are sadness, loneliness and the reproachful glare of one’s identity in freefall.
★★★★½
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Guy Williams | Comedy Plus Time Equals Tragedy
The Westin Two, The Victoria Hotel – Banquet Room, until April 23

“I f--king hate Australia, hey,” roars Guy Williams as he chastises the crowd for their tepid applause before castigating Australia for its coal, genocidal history and Liberal Party. The audience loves it.

The show is billed as “straight left-wing propaganda” – its central conceit is a renunciation of the argument that cancel culture has gone too far. Williams’ deftly delivered punchlines reveal that cancel culture doesn’t go far enough: Donald Trump was elected president, Louis CK has reprised his comedy career, racism still exists – meaning “mediocre white men” like himself can talk at people for an hour. And therein lies Williams’ charm – he’s a peculiar mix of self-deprecation and raging bluster.

His vitriol is reserved for white people, comedians and, by extension, himself. “Comedy equals tragedy plus time” is subverted – with the aid of a whiteboard – to underline the tragedy of comedians ageing poorly due to their objectionable views.

A towering 6′6 with a voice so thunderous his microphone is superfluous, Williams aims his rapier wit and furious indignation at Nazis, the Winter Olympics and a laundry list of “cancelled” men. You never know what he’s building up to, and occasionally it doesn’t work, but when it does, it’s magic.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Scott Limbrick | Journey to the Infinite Void
TIC Swanston (The Nicholas Building), until April 23

You hear his booming American drawl before you see him. His ego is both big enough to power the space vessel known as the Thunder Phoenix and incredibly fragile.

Commander Scoot Lambrock, simultaneously full of machismo and vulnerability, is comedian Scott Limbrick’s latest creation and a joy to spend an hour with. A treat for fans of character comedy, it’s a multilayered, incredibly well-constructed show about one man’s journey to conquer his ego. Addressing audience members who double as his space vessel’s crew, Scoot outlines his dangerous mission: an expedition to the infinite void.

Limbrick has created a captivating, cohesive and clever narrative that captures the zeitgeist in what it pokes fun at: therapy speak, toxic positivity, the inability to afford a home.

Befitting a futuristic story, the technological and visual prowess of this show is unparalleled. A giant space computer lends verisimilitude to the unfolding narrative. Scoot’s AI system PAL – not dissimilar to HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey – is a crucial secondary character. The room lights up in stark shades of red, blue and green at various junctures throughout, heightening the dramatic effect.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Andrew Hamilton | Jokes About The Time I Went To Prison
Victoria Hotel, until April 23

Ever wondered whether someone could have a good time in jail? Andrew Hamilton reckons he did. He used his time wisely (by getting into comedy), which serendipitously led to an early release from the big house in a decision of “rare leniency”.

So how did he get here? Well, before he blew up on TikTok doing prison food reviews, Hamilton was doing very well for himself as a pizza entrepreneur in Sydney, accruing a load of cash but also blowing obscene amounts of it on the pokies due to a gambling addiction. This led him into a life of crime, supplying party drugs for 15 years until he was arrested.

Hamilton’s wordplay and low-key confidence have a dependable, Carl Barron meets Danny Bhoy-esque characteristic.

He has the warm patter of a bloke at the pub who just wants to tell you some stories which are probably more truthful than Chopper Read’s admitted embellishments.

The jocular chap has the knack for a ripping anecdote without letting it overstay its welcome. He delivered tight shiv bit after tight shiv bit to his first sell-out crowd, on what was supposed to be the show’s closing weekend.
★★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Wil Anderson | Wiluminate
Comedy Theatre, until April 23

Have you ever sent yourself a reminder email only to be surprised by its arrival 0.2 seconds later? The inimitable Wil Anderson gambled that doing so with a bunch of flowers would be a nice treat during Sydney’s lockdown (acknowledging Melburnians will scoff). Instead, it nearly broke him.

Perhaps his most unguarded show yet, the Gruen host and author of I Am NOT Fine, Thanks bares all about loneliness, his fear of emerging and the fact we’re all in denial about COVID-19’s continuing ubiquity. Unsold on Roald being a real name, or people who flap about editing racism out of old kids’ books, he’s a proud social justice warrior who’s all for environmental activists chucking soup at the Mona Lisa.

If this sounds terribly worthy, fear not. A gifted showman, he’s on top of his game, leaning into hysteria to deliver a hilarious hour that’ll hit you in the feels.
★★★★
Reviewed by Stephen A Russell

Maisie Adam | Buzzed
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 23

Britain’s Maisie Adam is putting her show Buzzed to bed. By the close of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, she will have performed it 98 times, here and overseas.

Adam gets the room sniggering by dissing Adelaide, the only other Australian city she’s visited. She promptly addresses the “elephant in the room” – her hairstyle. It’s a buzz-cut in the back and full fringe with long bob-like wisps at the front, otherwise known as The Chelsea.

She’s super upbeat and captivating. Her stories are top-shelf fun. There’s the one about the proposal. Then insights into wedding preparations. Followed by mirth-inducing extrapolations about who should and shouldn’t be giving wedding speeches.

She skilfully retains likeability, even after deriding AFL. Reflections on Zoom gigs, COVID chats and her granny Muriel elicit more giggles. Adam’s explanation of where she will honeymoon is hilarious.

If you do happen to catch the final performance in the Melbourne Town Hall Cloak Room (yep, she refers to it as a cupboard) or the penultimate performance (moved to the larger space of Lower Town Hall), her overzealous use of the word “genuinely” may grate.

Overall, a slick hour of jolly good, mostly clean fun.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Greg Larsen | Slurp’s Up!!
ACMI, until April 23

Greg Larsen was shortlisted for the most outstanding show award at last year’s comedy festival, but since then, it hasn’t been all gravy. From the confusing push-pull of simultaneous panic attacks and depression, to a double-whammy gastroscopy-colonoscopy, we get to see inside his mind, his digestive system and his nasal cavity.

Sandwiched between gags aplenty, Larsen discusses mental health “stuff” with levity and laughs but, importantly, not without self-compassion.

For anyone struggling to talk about their own issues, I’d recommend trying it wrapped in a big bear hug of blokeyness and Maccas binges.

Along the way, Larsen flings his beefs at various “ombudspeople”, gesticulates with a tiny knife at useless but expensive psychiatrists and gets himself banned from all Uber apps.

Some of the best bits rely on his new sample machine or pre-filmed jokes. But in all, it goes down pretty well.
★★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Annie Louey | Gold
Chinese Museum, until April 23

The fact of being an Asian comedian performing at the Chinese Museum is not lost on Annie Louey. In fact, she’s hired actors and created a skit about it for her show.

Gold is a confident debut of new material for Louey, delivered with a wry smile and morbid humour. Alongside the cultural comedy audiences would expect, Louey’s content is refreshingly broader, discussing sex, dating, ageing and death.

Pursuing comedy since she was 16 – she’s now 30 – her ability to recover when audience engagement or punchlines don’t go her way is impressive and evidence of her years of experience.

Fun games keep the audience on their toes, including interpreting couples’ sex lives based on their first names; guessing ages based on Chinese Zodiac signs; creating pneumonic cues for licence plates (411 Sexy Slut Bitches); and, a running gag about dating red flags, signalled by playing Split Enz’s I See Red chorus and Louey yelping “flags!” at the end.

Maths may not be her forte, but comedy is.
★★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Best of Comedy Zone Asia
Arts Centre Melbourne – Fairfax Studio, until April 23

Showcasing comics from Malaysia, Singapore, India and Indonesia, Best of Comedy Zone Asia is a meticulously curated mix of emerging and seasoned talent that lays bare cultural differences while highlighting the universality of certain experiences.

Effortlessly funny and assured, host Fakkah Fuzz of Singapore warms the crowd up for the “platter of different varieties of Asians” with jokes about being a bad Muslim, entering one’s 30s and well-crafted punchlines that – though only someone who grew up in Singapore or Malaysia would understand the context – elicit laughter across the room.

It’s a laugh a minute with the wry Mumbai-based Sonali Thakker, who delivers punchline after punchline about being constantly surveilled by her “cool mum”, practising judo to win the approval of her dad, and being the toxic one in a relationship. Her style is conversational as her keen eyes sweep across the room.

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Mumbai-based Anirban Dasgupta has an endearing habit of chuckling good-naturedly at his own jokes. Touching on how hard it is to do comedy in India – “India is so funny already” – Dasgupta jumps between topics like working from home, being a new father and drinking too much, while delving into cultural and socio-political specificities of life in India.

Indonesia’s first female Muslim stand-up comic, Sakdiyah Ma’ruf, takes a mirror to her conservative upbringing, paralleling the global experience of a pandemic to growing up in a strict family. She’s unafraid to poke fun at either herself or her community in a self-deprecating manner, with her voice climbing to a crescendo when she’s elucidating her points.

Headliner Douglas Lim expertly works the room, true to his moniker of “Malaysia’s king of comedy”. Stoking the fire of Malaysia and Singapore’s rivalry before launching into topics as multifaceted as Michelle Yeoh, corruption, and Hong Kong serial Square Pegs, Lim roams across the stage with an irrepressible energy and congenially goads the crowd into performing a memorable chant.
Reviewed by Sonia Nair
Note: No star ratings are applied to group shows

Aidan Jones | The Morning After
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 23

Aidan Jones has effortless charisma, disarming honesty and a sharp, curious mind. Those three things help if you’re a stand-up comedian but only get you so far.

Thankfully, the Adelaide-bred cheer-jerker knows how to weave a hell of a narrative. Last year’s Taco was about meeting his Colombian biological father for the first time. This year it’s all about how and why he quit drinking ... and what comes next.

Through embarrassing pictures and wickedly explained anecdotes, Jones takes us into his heady youth of pills and endless after-parties, right to the glaring realisation he needed to kick the booze following a night where he acted borderline creepy.

It’s a vulnerable admission and the show benefits from it. His snigger and comfy asides ensure we never leave the narrative and there are some great callbacks regarding the amount of time he spent horizontal in a kitchen on a one-night-stand.

Jones creates a widescreen experience talking to us about his mum, step-dad and friendship circles. Wait for the salsa classes showstopper too and the line: “There’s a full-length mirror so you can see yourself destroying the culture you’re trying to connect with.”
★★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Danny Bhoy | Now Is Not A Good Time
Athenaeum Theatre, until April 23

Danny Bhoy’s nan told him, “find a job that you love and you’ll never work a day in your life”. Her words became a prophecy in 2020.

It’s Bhoy’s first time touring outside the UK in several years, and he’s too disenchanted by everything happening on the home front (refer to Josie Long’s show) to “tie everything together in a poignant, optimistic ending”. What remains unchanged is his unsurpassed storytelling skills, amiable on-stage persona and the physicality of his comedy, which leans on impersonations, mimed gestures and the re-enactment of dialogue.

Biblical jokes abound – each of them funnier and more original than the next.

Scotland’s culinary nous (or lack of) is mercilessly pilloried in a punchline no one (except perhaps the Scots in the audience) see coming. Frequent references to living in a castle (Bhoy doesn’t really, he’s at pains to emphasise) recur throughout the set to great comedic effect.

Bhoy is a master at subverting expectations and going down the rabbit hole of meandering tangents, never once losing himself in the labyrinth of narratives that propel his set onwards and upwards.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Tom Ballard | It Is I
Victoria Hotel, until April 23

It’s no secret Tom Ballard loves to skewer the powerful, the rich and the right wing, having been cancelled by the ABC more than once for being, well, offensively leftist.

If nothing else it’s been a brilliant branding exercise. His audience knows where to find him and what to expect – a very strong hour of acerbic comedy with a socialist bent.

From Rupert Murdoch’s jowls to the “high-society hippos” running Australia’s economy, he’s putting them all in a bin fire and dancing on the ashes. The late Queen Elizabeth II comes in for a particularly good roasting.

There’s a little less anger and darkness here, a little more glee and levity than in some previous shows, and it is welcome. Perhaps he’s happy about his new TV comedy special and the release of his debut book: I, Millennial – One Snowflake’s Screed Against Boomers, Billionaires and Everything Else. That should give you a clue as to the show’s content too, if you hadn’t got it by now.
★★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

The Listies | Hamlet: Prince of Skidmark
Arts Centre Melbourne, until April 15

Zombies? Nuns? Ninjas? Dinosaurs? This kidult comedy gives us a Hamlet like nothing you’ve seen before. It’s a wild introduction to theatre for kids – always vocal in their enthusiasm for The Listies – and a hoot for parents too.

Richard Higgins and Matt Kelly are a classic comedy duo. Their dynamic mirrors and lampoons the adult/child binary – the former the straight man, the latter a rambunctious buffoon.

Here, they appear as two ushers at a production of Hamlet. Due to a smelly backstage crisis, the ushers stop ushing and perform the play themselves, with their stage manager (Olivia Charalambous) stepping in as Ophelia – and rewriting one of Shakespeare’s more anaemic female roles.

Purists needn’t worry. Pretty much everyone onstage still dies, and the curated chaos delivers a potted version of the plot, teasing youngsters to explore Shakespeare later on, while going all out on visual gags, bad puns, dad jokes, toilet humour, and hilarious physical clowning – all the anarchic antics that make The Listies so much fun.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

Chris Parker | Lots of Love
The Westin One, until April 23

Full marks for exuberance. Chris Parker is a bundle of energy, bouncing around the stage in a sweat-inducing frenzy, all the while dropping jocular observations.

Parker, a mighty fine storyteller, brings physicality and fun to tales of woe and low-level despair. Eternally ebullient, he launches into a cheery litany of modern-day observations, including life’s quirks and dealing with millennials. Parker ponders driving skills, extreme sports, tow-truck drivers, weddings and the end of the world. Masterful ad-libbing ensues after a brief audience interaction. The crowd is in stitches at every turn.

A singular frustration is missing potential laughs, when a few phrases are too garbled to decipher. The hour rounds off with Parker deducing that about 80 per cent of the audience is from New Zealand. “Tell an Australian to come to the show,” he implores.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Grace Jarvis | This Is The Last Goldfish That I Am Going to Eat For You
Trades Hall, until April 23

Grace Jarvis isn’t blending in, and it’s wonderful.

In this tight, polished show Jarvis re-examines her attempts to make friends as a child through the lens of being diagnosed with autism as an adult and having come out as queer.

Her litany of tales about “not blending in” in a religious school and regional Queensland town artfully skewer the cliches applied to autistic people and the attempts of her school and peers to shame her into fitting in.

In trying to quash the weird out of Jarvis, they also overlooked the wonderful parts of autistic life – the enthusiasm, the joyful self-expression and the pull to justice.

Fortunately, Jarvis has remained resolutely both weird and wonderful, finding freedom in a diagnosis that affirms she was never the problem.

Watching Jarvis embrace the things that bring her delight and invite us in to enjoy them with her is in turn delightful for the audience. This is a show from a performer who will clearly grow in talent with time.
★★★½
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

He Huang | Bad Bitch
Victoria Hotel and Mantra on Russell, until April 23

Watching He Huang feels like a political act.

The Chinese expat moved to Australia three years ago on the eve of the global coronavirus pandemic, the air thick with bushfire smoke.

Since then, she’s swapped the “leftover lady” label for internet fame via Australia’s Got Talent, raising the ire of Chinese mainlanders for viral jokes about her mother country.

There are some good quips on Dan’s “dictator” moniker as well as her own name – the whiteys in the audience get an amusing lesson on pronunciation, which Huang deftly subverts with gags about pronouns, zoom etiquette and her various English aliases.

Her strongest material charts her sexual liberation, from clumsy first encounters as a young exchange student in the US to a full-blown embrace of X-rated Aussie slang and democracy sausages. It’s a joyous and empowered celebration of sexuality, and a strong solo debut.
★★★½
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Jordan Raskopoulos | The Fool
Greek Centre, until April 16

In this age of disinformation, Greek-Australian comedian Jordan Raskopoulos wants us to know that Rock, Paper, Scissors is a crock of shit. Paper is not doing the heavy lifting.

Joking that this was the abandoned theme of her 2017 TED Talk (actually delivered on her anxiety, now joined by an ADHD diagnosis), she’s a giving performer happy to lean into the ups and downs of her life. Just don’t, if you’re a nosy radio host, pry into her transition journey, otherwise you might get a fabulously frank ditty about a rhyming word you might not want to go to air.

A rag-tag sketch show with PowerPoint prompts, The Fool may be a bit rough around the edges, but Raskopoulos rocks it with her pop breakout performances, sassy delivery and a particularly disturbing slash fiction tale involving dinosaurs of both the pre-history and contemporary corporate world variety.