Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

Frankie McNair’s biggest asset is her delightfully silly, carefree spirit. And well she knows it. ‘This is a shoes-off-in-the-house,’ vibe she says of her loose show, before thoroughly owning the ‘fun aunt’ energy she’s rightly been told that she exudes.

Her effervescence may stem from babbling nervous anxiety, or a product of her ADHD, but she channels it to great effect, confidently sparking a late-night audience into life with her animated physicality and exaggerated expressions. Her traits call to mind Felicity Ward’s winning skittishness.

McNair drops a few bits of personal information into the mix, but an apparent reluctance to be too honest frames them as silly sketches – often by channelling the sozzled lounge singer energy of Liza Minnelli to tell a tale. When she reveals she is gender fluid, it’s no great statement of identity, just a set-up for her mother to hilariously misinterpret the term.

It all feeds into the overstuffed grab-bag of daft vignettes, unapologetically – nay, proudly – rejecting any concept that a show needs narrative through-line, message or soul-searching. There are ridiculous game shows, corny dad jokes, surreal asides, preposterous props, even fart cushions. It’s like she never got the message that this is an esteemed festival of erudite artistic endeavour!

In cold analysis, the skits are as hit-and-miss as any, but she has such funny bones that she can easily sell them with her joyful, larger-than-life silliness. ‘Aggressively optimistic,’ her own blurb describes her – in keeping with the merrily self-aware vibe that pervades the hour – and it would be hard to take issue with that.

Review date: 8 Apr 2022
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival