Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

Cabaret royalty Reuben Kaye has a poetic heart but a vicious tongue. The voice of an angel and the morals of PornHub. Not to mention cheekbones you could slice ham with and a sense of stylised glamour straight out of the golden age of Hollywood.

Just before the festival, he caused a storm by cracking a dirty, transgressive – and very good – joke about Jesus live on TV. But don’t expect him to be repentant – annoying all the right people is very much part of his brand. Indeed, the bigots recently saw red over a sweet clip of him speaking to primary-school kids while in his elegant drag.

The footage showed the charm at the heart of Kaye’s act, even when directing dark Holocaust acts or graphic descriptions of sexual acts at his adult audiences. This heir to Julian Clary’s glittering crown physically embraces every audience member as they file in, then emotionally over the ensuing 75 minutes.

Yes, he can viciously insult you with acidic cattiness, but it’s done with love, all part of the sport of cabaret. And probably a lot less uncomfortable than being the target of his aggressive flirtation as he prowls and poses his way around the auditorium.

The show starts on a poignant note,  a poetic lament for the optimistic future we had in the past that incorporates a personal take on the Acknowledgement Of Country. Although he does puncture the sincerity: only Kaye could combine the issue of Aboriginal land rights with a dick joke, asserting: ‘I stand on land that, unlike me, has never been ceded.’

Double entendre aside, this is one of several sincere moments across the evening, both spoken and sung, including an especially potent version of Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? that shows the full range of his powerful vocal cords.

Passion and attitude infuse all this alternative national treasure does, from advocating for the right to be yourself, mocking the notion of an hereditary monarchy, and taking on the trolls. He touches on trauma, personal and generational, but that only empowers him more.

Kaye says it’s a different show every night, and the fact he often causes the three-piece band that backs him to crack up – or sometimes hold their heads in shocked, embarrassed horror – suggests he is throwing out new segments each time. He’s an arch ad-libber in both senses of the adjective.

That looseness means the show doesn’t have a coherent shape, with discrete segments of savage comic banter, beautiful songs, and heartfelt messages that don’t really connect together in any way beyond being bound by the force of Kaye’s personality. But that’s quite some force, and this is quite some display of showmanship.

• Reuben Kaye: Live and Intimidating is on at Arts Centre Melbourne at 9.15pm (8.15pm Sundays, no show Mondays) until April 23.

Review date: 10 Apr 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival