Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

The final of Australia’s biggest comedy talent hunt is Pauline Hanson’s worst nightmare, with a line-up marked out by the diversity of the contestants. Across gender, race, sexuality age, disability and social background it’s hard to spot a corner that wasn’t represented.

Often in events like this, a clear winner emerges, but not this time. Us Raw Comedy judges could not split the two frontrunners, Bron Lewis and Alexandra Hudson, so both were declared winners, and will both now head to the Edinburgh Fringe in August. A split ​decision has only happened once before in the competition’s 27-year history.

Lewis, from Queensland, is a mother of three, the latest of which is a relatively new ‘Covid baby’. She has an unsentimental approach to her family: cynical, but appealingly upbeat about it, the epitome of the ‘fun mum’ she strives to be. Her lively delivery extends to some keenly observed act-outs, such as the newly engaged friend desperate to show off her ring. This slice-of-life comedy is relatable, witty and told with the certainty of a pro.

Hudson has cerebral palsy, which gives her permission to make some shockingly hard-edged jokes at the top of her set. This confronting approach might quickly get too much, so she advisedly eases back into a more conversational approach to talk about her daily life and how her infirmities make her more like her nonagenarian grandma.

However, she saves the best to last with what seems like a silly non-sequitur about a sexual kink but which evolves into a slyly political joke, letting people know about a surprising piece of legislation still on the statute books. It’s a classy routine, funny first but with a unique agenda. Hopefully she has plenty more like that in her future.

Two runners-up were also crowned yesterday, including the opening act Delhi Buoy, who had some solid jokes about overcrowding on the Indian subcontinent, and his lack of success with women, which sat among others that were a little less original. But his delivery is slick, measured and confident - from a well-placed callback to commenting on his own performance – and it feels like he has something to say.

Second on the bill, Aves Robins, was an audience favourite, winning more than one applause break. Again she is a cool-headed performer with a good smattering of strong lines – about being single, the interstate travel ban during Covid or how being transgender disappointed her family. And again a few that didn’t land, normally at her own expense. But she has an engaging presence with much to offer.

At 45, Nathan Powell served up some authentic observations on being considered either young or old, depending on the context. However, much of his writing seemed simplistic, especially the anecdote about waxing and his opening bit about being ‘short-shamed’ which ended with a trite pullback.

Cathal Leslie had a strong opening, letting the tension caused by espousing an anti-vax sentiment hang just long enough to be awkward before he punctured it. But others of his routines were too slowly paced, and underpowered in delivery. There’s interesting stuff here about his twin being a microdosing drug-user, and the privileged background he comes from, but there are not quite enough punchlines to punctuate his otherwise engaging material.

Dom McGovern is also light on gags, but he compensates with a big blast of camp me-me-me energy as he gushes about his love of Pride, Love Island and Jesus’ chiselled body. A few of the jokes seem familiar, but he’d make a great MC with his animated delivery – striding the vast Melbourne Town Hall stage – and infectiously upbeat vibes.

Iona Colville dedicated her entire set to her first name, but going all-in on such a specific – and not especially interesting – premise did not pay off. She has an appealing presence and style, but the material is flimsy.

Blake Pavey kicks off with some amusing talk about how even his bogan mates are getting on board with the mental health message while still exhibiting toxic behaviour which seemed an astute, timely commentary. 
But he left his bombshell until later to give in more impact: revealing that he has cystic fibrosis, which will dramatically shorten his lifespan. His ‘relatable comedy for dying people’ brought light to a dark subject, with plenty of assured punchlines.  

He’s already a star TikToker, with 25million likes, but is well on the way to making the difficult transition from virtual success to real-world talent, and he was unlucky not to be placed.

Another solid performer, Joshua Countino hit a few familiar touchstones about immigration and his ethnic background, with writing that tends towards the formulaic, as in likening Perth to Afghanistan as both are ‘desert hellholes’. That said a gag about Catholic priests did not, as promised, go down the expected route, but the alternative had no more punch than had he done a paedophile line,

There’s something compelling about Guneet Kaur, but her hesitant delivery doesn’t yet do justice to her quirky viewpoint, in which she likened ghosting to missing her period, or asked the question: ‘How much meth is too much meth?’ She finds new angles in the familiar, and will be one to watch once she gets a few more gig hours under her belt and gets the confidence on stage she clearly has in her writing.

Finally, the second trans comedian of the night, Heather Joan, who offered an interesting, uncompromisingly frank, account of her experiences in transitioning. She offers some angles you wouldn’t have heard before, from her particular experiences of PMT, even without having the M bit, to suffering ‘hot girl problems’. 

She could have done without the brutally graphic fisting joke, mind, that gets ‘urgh’ reaction, more cheaply won than a laugh. That notwithstanding, Jones took the other runner-up slot, meaning those rostrum places went to first and last on the crowded bill. Whoever said they are the graveyard slots?

Review date: 11 Apr 2022
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival