Steve Bennett visits Western Australia

Perth may be the world’s most isolated city, but it can still boast a vibrant comedy scene… as I found out on a flying 48-hour visit.

It’s centred on the Comedy Lounge, a purpose-built club above a downtown restaurant with a design based on the best clubs its British owner John McAllister visited in London. He’s created a mid-sized but intimate space with clean sight-lines and well-specced tech, ideal for showcasing stand-up.

Friday’s show was packed to the rafters, too. Compere Simone Springer’s smiley demeanour is welcoming, yet conceals a wearier, can’t-be-arsed attitude, not least to her own ADD child. Her jokes can feel a little mechanical, but she’s sharper off-script, drawing the best from a risqué to-and-fro with the couple in the front row. You can see why she’s an MC.

First up, a relative newcomer in the guise of Martin Darcey. His lack of experience shows in a staccato delivery, an affected laugh at his own jokes and the sense that he feels a little too proud of piling pull-back-and-reveal punchlines on top of each other. Yet he’s a robust gag-writer, playing up his beta-male status and Asian heritage - strongest, of course, when he subverts stereotypes rather than leans into them – which demonstrate strong potential.

He spoke about losing his virginity late in life to a cougar, starting what came to be a recurring theme of the night about age-gap relationships. Locally based Scottish comedian Gil Cordiner approached the topic from the other direction, giving out strong ‘filthy aunt’ vibes as she dished the dirt on having a much younger husband. Middle-aged tribulations such as wearing Spanx and dealing with teenage kids were also discussed with a frankness that’s entirely unbecoming… which is precisely why they were so raucously funny.

Looking like wild-haired trolls in Team Australia tracksuits, The Nelson Twins are, as the name pretty much gives away, identical twins whose entire set is based on doing what brothers do: viciously slinging mud at each other. It’s essentially a well-rehearsed roast battle, focussing on easy targets (Chris’s Thai wife, Justin being a vegan) with a plenty of spot-the-difference gags thrown in. In fact there are lots of gags all round, and the tight, machine-gun delivery serves them well. It’s not exactly progressive comedy, but that’s precisely it’s appeal – along with the gag rate and the cheerful attitude that anything’s fair game.

Andrew Wolfe, pictured, has an appropriate surname given his unhinged howling-at-the-moon delivery, a manic hodgepodge of depression, anxiety and fury that proves highly effective. There are some good gags about anti-vaxxers and people who say they’ve been abducted by aliens – though it would come as no surprise if he believed such craziness himself – but it’s the unhinged energy that you’ll remember. At one point he worries about ‘going full Kramer’ – and the Seinfeld character is a good waypoint for his brand of unruly humour… but without the racism that did for the actor Michael Richards.

Finally, Suns Of Fred, a drum-tight three-man outfit who burst onto the stage with a series of tightly choreographed alternative intros. It’s something of a triumph of performance over substance, though, as they generally don’t have the invention of the similarly high energy Aunty Donna to back up their well-honed physicality. But the musical theatre take on heavy metal is a definitely highlight. As well as the camp one, there’s the putative straightman and the one always being elbowed out of the spotlight. It’s entertaining enough – and you can see why they headlined – but relatively shallow.

Saturday afternoon saw the Western Australia final of the Raw Comedy competition, featuring 20 newish acts from around the state. Far too many to go into here, but winner Nicole Shi deserved her place in the national final with a set mocking Chinese stereotypes and some Aussie ones, without being afraid to show a little edge.  Returning from last night, Martin Darcey was also a strong contender, while trans comic Courtney Maldo had much to say and and amusing way of saying it, such as telling her conservative dad: ‘I’m going to disappoint expectations you never knew you had.’

English act David Hughes – not to be confused with Dave Hughes, unfortunately for his bank balance – was another frontrunner, and if his attitude and mannerisms borrowed heavily from Ricky Gervais, his ‘bad dad’ shtick was full of pointed punchlines that hit home. Meanwhile Blake Richardson was a charismatic performer with some solid material about his Maori background, if perhaps a bit too much focus on jokes about his own appearance.

Indeed so engaging is Richardson that he even MCed Comedy Lounge’s sister venue in Fremantle, a few miles away, later that night, making for a gregarious and energetic host with no suggestion he was anything but a seasoned pro.

First up was oldish hand Xavier Michaelides with a broad set that ranged from admirably convoluted puns to a reminder of just how sinister the phrase ‘lock up your daughters’ really is. Some of the material is route one – how many middle-aged male comedians, or indeed people, talk about hair growing everywhere but the head? – but he’s a skilful, likeable performer who also strays down more creative routes, if never quite far enough.

Bringing a bit of old-school variety to proceedings was Morgan James. This is not a sentiment you’ll hear very often, but he was brilliantly entertaining and highly skilled with the diabolo – that spinning bobbin controlled by two wands and a rope that every knobhead takes up at festivals. Rather than being comedy, James’s was a street act bought indoors – complete with a less distinctive blade-juggling routine involving an audience ‘volunteer’ – but great fun all the same.

Jay Raymond was a less-distinctive comedian, competently pouring scorn on the shitty neighbouring town he comes from, dividing single people into those who embrace it and those who hate it. And how come ghosts always have a great back story? There are few ideas here you won’t have heard before but he holds the room with confidence.

When headliner Jon Pinder – who had previously kept the Raw gig barrelling along as compere – describes himself with the cliched ‘Rod Stewart’s let himself go’, he’s not joking. Well he is, but you know what I mean. But although he has the rough-edged look of a man who’s been through a lot, the Englishman, who’s a tattoo artist by day, has a keen comic mind and a sprightly, sparky delivery that energises the room.

His standout routine about the Australian crows who keep him awake at night is a textbook example of how to act out a scenario. But he’s also got strong routines on topics as diverse as rescue dogs and his nana’s labia, delivered with a winning livewire spirit.

Review date: 3 Apr 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett