Review by Steve Bennett at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival

Never judge a show by its title is the message here. It may sound like Louisa Wall is offering low-rent, bad-taste comedy, but A Dingo Ate My Baby turns out to be a sophisticated slice of character cabaret, elegantly written and faultlessly performed.

We start with an atmospheric soundscape evoking Australia's scorched red heart where we do indeed meet a dingo. A tap dancing dingo no less – although it transpires this is actually little Azaria Chamberlain of the infamous 1980 case, now all grown up having been raised by dogs and now keen to seek a reunion with her mum, Lindy.

There's a sadness and desperation - as well as determination - behind her quest, typical of the extra dimension Wall gives her characters, from the intense super-positive suburban housewife (who exhibits shades of Kath and Kim) to the overgrown baby, flipping between cutest-wutesy and aggressive Fosters-swilling bogan on a penny.

A strong theme of motherhood and fertility links the characters, giving the 45-minute show a form, but Wall is not enslaved by it as she showcases her talents.

She is not just a skilled comedy actor, as she also blends music and poetry into the writing - including a delightful feminist rap remix of the national anthem, creative loop-pedal deployment and an on-the-nose number bemoaning preposterous baby names. Then there is the wonderfully daggy dancing and minimal but effective audience engagement, in keeping with her engaging, impish style.

With plenty of theatrical flourishes, and a closing number that gives each of her creations a satisfying conclusion, the result is a classy showcase of character comedy with glitter, a tap dancing dingo and a clarinet-wielding disco queen from the dark side of the moon. What more could you want?

Review date: 9 Apr 2017
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett