Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

‘Everyone’s a comedian’ took another step to becoming less an aphorism and more a statement of incontrovertible fact with this year’s Raw competition, with another 953 Australians taking their first steps in comedy. And by the time we reached the national final at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, 12 remain.

Opening, Nathan Chin had a slick and robustly constructed set, full of sly jokes about China’s dominance of Australia, current and future, while other knowing material addressed Australia Day, white Uber drivers and a great definition of what constitutes an ‘Asian arts degree’. He’s very well-practised, slightly at the expense of allowing his personality to shine through, but a safe pair of hands to kick off the show.

Stephanie Hare, above, was more uncertain in her delivery, while material about being ‘almost a lesbian’ doesn’t stand out at a time when almost every comic addresses their sexuality. But she has a fascinating and unique back story growing up off-grid in an Amish-like home in Tasmania that will make an excellent premise for a show once she’s developed more stand-up chops. She took one of the runner-up slots tonight.

Aaqib Merchant has things to say about his conservative Muslim parents and strong Indian accents - and, indeed, the way he speaks is an effective tool in his comic arsenal. Showing a confidence beyond his experience, he leaves long pregnant pauses between each unrelated segment, building anticipation and proving especially effective when it comes to the non-sequiturs. Describing himself as a ‘mischievous guy’, he has more than a few cheeky routines that impress and was one of the stronger finalists.

Jazz Bing is a former police detective, now working in a Western Australia school, which isn’t so interesting, nor are her comments about how different the two jobs are. However, the bulk of her set comprises a story of a suspect concealing their stash in a very intimate place during a drug raid that has the audience gripped, told with a tone of amused incredulity, even if with few add-on punchlines.

Melbourne’s Dylan Murphy starts by rewriting song lyrics to make them dirty then mentions his bisexuality, which he claims gives him licence to ‘do the voice’ - putting on a camp ‘gay’ lisp. Does it though? It seems cheap, playing to stereotypes rather than subverting them. He has a very laid-back stage manner, and makes no concessions to this being a big gig. Instead he allows a shaggy-dog story about a date to meander, knowing there’s a solid laugh at the end. 

Jamieson GIlders as a charismatic stage manner, and a winningly dismissive approach to all the men she meets on the dating apps, especially if they lie about their height. Indeed her set pretty much comprises a catalogue of useless men – and while that’s an old topic, it’s also an inexhaustible one, which she tackles with style as one of the more naturally funny comics on the bill. She might think herself unlucky to have missed out on a place on the podium.

Suma Iyer, by contrast gave a very rehearsed, distancing, delivery of a routine about bland ‘white people food’. Feeling very obviously written, rather than disguised under the pretence of conversational spontaneity, her set nonetheless has a few good lines and memorable images, which will shine more once she relaxes.

Omar Gad,top,  was palpably even less comfortable on stage, barely able to make eye contact with the audience. Being from Darwin, with its dearth of comedy venues, automatically puts him at a disadvantage compared to acts from more vibrant cities like Melbourne or Sydney, but what he lacked in stage presence, he made up for with witty offbeat material exploiting those very obvious insecurities, such as a nice analogy about therapy. 

And despite his shyness, he’s not afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve, as in his admission that he felt pretty bleak post-breakup. Such emotional honesty and strong writing instincts earned him the Raw title, a worthy vote of confidence in a comic with bags of potential who just needs more experience. He now heads to Edinburgh to take part in the Gilded Balloon’s similar So You Think You’re Funny? competition.

In what’s a staple topic for comedians, Kiyanosh Sahebi spoke about being 27 and still living with his mum, but with a slightly different angle. However, his comments about the names of Middle Eastern food didn’t really shine, however hard he sold them (and he did). More creative was his take on why he doesn’t like playing the women’s teams in FIFA, with a more progressive reason than initially sounds.

Aside from a solid ice-breaker about wanting a ‘proper’ multisyllaballic Greek surname, Stella Kappos, aboive, served up strange and scattergun routine that left many in the audience behind with its wild leaps of logic and subject matter. Weird is good, but people need more than an onslaught of non-sequiturs. Nonetheless, judges named her one of the runners-up.

Cameron Muratore also needs more finesse in his material, which ranged from dumb-but-obvious jokes about ‘quitting cold turkey’ or ‘sleeping like a baby’, to suggesting a major high street outlet is basically a magnet for paedophiles. Some of the offbeat material hit harder, including the silly notion of cyber-bullying a dog, but he still seems wet around the gills, 

With a certainty circularity, closing act Stella Wu harked back to the themes of opener Chin, considering Australia under the yoke of Beijing. It leads to a sarcastic riposte to Australian racism demonstrating the pointed attitude she also extended to exacting revenge on an awful ex-boyfriend. Again, she’s a little inconsistent, but the first sold five minutes of her comedy career offered some promising signifiers. Same goes for almost all the 11 acts who preceded her.

Review date: 15 Apr 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival