Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

House is a ‘comedy as therapy’ debut from a personable new comedian with a winning openness which needs a bit more sharpness and hunger for a joke to make the story truly pop.

Bea Barbeau-Scurla takes us through the depression she suffered in her youth, and to a much lesser extent today, as well as a more recent ADHD diagnosis. The older mental health struggles are ascribed to an ‘inter-generational trauma’ we never really get to unpick beyond some run-ins with her mother.

The sale of her childhood home and the literal unpacking of the past propels her back to that time – though the infrequently used maguffin of showing the audience memorabilia she rescued from the property feels like a half-abandoned structural prop she doesn’t really need.

Frequently reading emo-ish extracts from her old journal and other writings also acts as a drag rather than delivering the serious dramatic impact she might have hoped. That’s not so much because of their downbeat content – mental health issues have lost so much of their stigma in comedy, that’s not an issue – but because it’s a static, dry device, shackling Barbeau-Scurla’s biggest asset: her natural, chatty self.

She’s the daughter of immigrants – a Croatian father and a Mauritian mother – and offers an intriguing peak at how their lives changed when they moved to Australia. But this is her story, not theirs, a detailed description of how she came to realise she was not like other girls, what with the panic attacks and the very real prospect of having to spend time in a psych ward.

The most telling page from those old notebooks features the words: ‘How can I turn my tragedy into comedy’, and this feels like a first step on that journey, rather than the finished deal.

As a show, House needs more shape and impetus – for example, there’s some redundant blether at the start about tapeworms that feels like padding. And while this is a broadly genial telling of a dark period, there are too few actual jokes. Barbeau-Scurla offers a good handful of solid lines that show her capability, such as the witty description of the very particular sort of podcast she has with her sister, but she too often neglects this.

Yet you’ll enjoy her company. Her willingness to open up about the most personal of stories and her gregarious nature on stage, whatever her anxieties off it, is appealing. That will stand her in good stead in what’s likely to be a long future comedy career.

• Bea Barbeau-Scurla: House is at 5.15pm until Friday, then at 4.15pm on Saturday and Sunday.

Review date: 5 Apr 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival