Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

Judges at new act competitions lie to you. They – well, we – always insist that packing a winner is a tough decision, even when it plainly wasn’t.

That said, it WAS a tough decision crowning the winner of the 2025 Raw competition run by the Melbourne comedy festival, with plenty to commend most of the finalists in their five-minute sets.

Opening act Charlotte Kruruc had to overcome some nerves that showed in her quiet and restrained delivery. However, she proved something of a dark horse as she spoke of childhood memories of her father being deployed to the Afghanistan war, perhaps never to return. Such a topic can only build a serious mood, ready to be destroyed by her surprisingly uncaring attitude. For Dad’s absence had positives for the young comic, that she was in no rush to end…

Western Australia’s Martin Darcey delivered a handful of proper jokes to open and close his confident set, largely about what it means to be dating a psychologist who’s always ready with a diagnosis. Not that he takes it seriously – his gags about Mental disorders are dumb dad jokes, which the audience take in good spirit. Even if they back away from a joke about Asian representation on screen, uncertain whether it’s OK to laugh, Darcey has a neat tagline to get himself off the hook.

Talking urgently, Josh Spyro captures the audience’s attention immediately, and wastes no time in setting up the premise for his comedy: I’m unwell and I blame my parents’ Yes, Mental health came up again, with the comic contrasting his generation’s openness with his Greek immigrant father’s stubborn resistance to addressing it. Spyro has a few bloke-ish tendencies to him, which plays nicely off the honesty he expresses about his state of mind  – a strong combination which earned him one of the runner-up slots.

Jay Kelly announces that he ‘identifies as a privileged white boy who gets laid every Friday’ -  in contrast to his real life as a singleton in a dating market in which Asian men like him are not a valued commodity. Rather than exploring this, however, he embarked on a peculiar story about a date he did secure, making odd jokes assuming chicken to be a cipher for sex. It’s hard to get a handle on who he is – though the idea he might be an evil landlord devoid of empathy could be fruitful to lean into.

Freddie Arthur sits comfortably in the silence of the audience waiting for her to start, then starts talking with the sort of nasal rural accent you’d probably expect from a much older woman, making her seem almost like a comedy character. Her conceit that she collects Mental illnesses like some people collect stamps doesn’t quite have the content to sustain it, especially in a crowded field of comics discussing such issues – but the honesty with which she raises the most troubling of her intrusive thoughts is disarmingly funny. 

A big vocal change with Michael Cho’s resonant, commanding bass suggesting a career in radio might await. He knows that he comes across as non-threatening – in fact he wishes he had a little more edge to make paper cool – though towards the end of his set he shows he can be darker and a bit meaner than that first impression. However, no gags quite stick, suggesting he needs a bit more of an edge in his comedy too.

Montana Paladinis might be on to something with the spoiled, self-centred part of her persona. Though it’s not unique, it does colour her best material, adding a boastful attitude to stories about her travels to Europe. But she’s inconsistent, a bit too quick to a silly, insubstantial joke. However, longer stories are more rewarding, including her concluding story about  a music festival that contains the priceless line ‘catfished by a church bitch’.

Sri Lankan Nadun Hettiarachichi has become an Aussie citizen, allowing him to take over some national stereotypes and make them his own. That’s merely an icebreaker, however, as he has quite the backstory, having lived through a civil war and seen his father survived a horrible attack. Not that the comic, taking a leaf out of Kruruc’s book, has much sympathy. When he’s fully developed the skills to tell this story – and he already has plenty – this should make a compelling solo hour. For now, it’s just one part of a set that also touches on British colonialism and a cracking gag linking conspiracy theories and racism.

Scott Lleonart is a daft goose, a kooky oddball taking to the stage with a bit of trivia and a ridiculous idea to bypass small talk. He’s even armed with a harmonica to underline the eccentric punchlines - almost like an alternative to a drum’s rimshot, initially, but then segueing into a bluesy song about the brain tumour discovered when he was young. The routine flails around like his gangly limbs, sometimes funny, sometimes not, as he throws countless tricks into it with cuckoo energy. The result is a bit too messy, but he’s an endearing presence, occasionally generating an enjoyably eccentric turn of phrase.

Mariah Nickolas defines herself as an introvert, as best demonstrated by her unwillingness to let herself go when dancing to Beyonce in the privacy of her own home,  creating a great nugget of understated physical comedy as she recreates the moment. Such a personality makes dating difficult, as she encapsulates wittily. And away from that topic, she has a cracking routine about Thai massage.  Boasting plenary of distinctive and amusing lines, this set earned her a runners-up spot. But don’t expect an introvert to shout about it from the rooftops.

‘I know how I’m perceived,’ says Nick Stacey with his blond mullet and ‘axe murderer moustache’ – though he’s keen to prove he defies that with stories of trying to wind up his racist uncle or identifying as a male feminist. In truth, the persona’s not always consistent, playing into the image sometimes and against it at others. But he has a darkly amusing story combining Charlie, of chocolate factory fame, and Charlie, of snort-it-at-a-party fame – and a genuinely hilarious comparison of why he’s like a Bible, that adds tagline upon tagline

Against this, Jazz King’s low energy dad jokes felt more of a slog. After a visual pun, an opening gag about newspaper report lands nicely, and there are a few other silly lines, told seriously, that stand out. Equall,y some don’t work at all, and there’s not much her deadpan persona can do to help bail them out. The set takes a slightly sinister turn towards the end when she talks about looking after twins, even if it’s all just wordplay. 

Bizarrely, while Jazz King might seem an unusual name, last year’s Raw final featured a different act called Jazz Bing. Expect confusion to ensue as they both forge ahead in comedy.

Finally, Peter Josip who energised the crowd and earned a couple of applause breaks despite being 13th out of 13 in the running order. While his lively persona is instantly endearing, the Greek-Italian’s opening line about encountering Aussies Abroad did not suggest great things.

 But the quality quickly grew as he walked us through his apparently incompatible childhood hobbies of musical theatre (that explains his ease on stage) and MMA fighting. And his closer reframing the old racist trope of ‘get back to where you came from’ was very strong. He was an audience favourite here in his home state – and a judges’ one, too, taking home the 2025 Raw Comedy title.

Review date: 14 Apr 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival