Dave Callan and his flaming umbrella. [Photo: Melbourne International Comedy Festival]  

To help you plan your weekend, here's a batch of Comedy Festival reviews from Arts Hub members - we look at David O’Doherty, Josh Thomas, Queenie van de Zandt, Geraldine Hickey, Will Adamsdale, Chris Branch and Dave Callan and his monkey.

David O’Doherty Is My Name

In his last show, David O’Doherty described his comedy as “Very Low Energy Musical Whimsy” (VLEMWy for short). This time around he’s remained strong on the musical whimsy – accompanied by his sidekick, the Casio Rapman keyboard - whilst managing to inject slight indignation and fury into the mix.

This charming, brightly-dressed and floppy-haired Irishman has a knack for captivating his audience with a nice balance of stand-up and sit-down comedy. His style on stage is confident yet relaxed, which evokes the feeling you might be sitting in his living room armchair, cup of tea in hand, having a chat about how he’s stolen his neighbour’s wireless internet connection ... or why he bleached his pubic hair.

O’Doherty has a marvelous collection of tales told through song: one cleverly put to music the awkward realization you’ve sent a text to the person that the text was about, whilst another opined the need to repress his hatred for his friend’s girlfriend. A highlight was the song Very Mild Superpowers, something the comedian professes to be blessed with – he can, after all, predict what sort of things will fit through doorways.

Similar to his superpowers, O’Doherty’s comedy is mild but charming in its childlike simplicity, and it’s when he takes to the keyboard that we can really see why this show was nominated for an If.comedy award. He poses the question, “What is the funniest thing in the world ever?”, and this could easily be answered by any number of the hilarious anecdotes he regales us with, occasionally utilising three different keyboards whose appearances are funny in their own right.

Within his first song, David appealed us to set our clocks on “David O’Doherty Time”, and by the end of the show we were truly residents in his time zone. His show leaves you feeling like you’ve learned a thing or two about the world (especially little known animal facts) and his pure slant on life’s wonders is refreshing amongst a sea of jaded comedians.

David O’Doherty Is My Name runs until April 29 at the Hi-Fi Bar & Ballroom, 125 Swanston St, opp. Melbourne Town Hall, Melbourne.

For more on the show, (including booking details), CLICK HERE.

Amy Page

Josh Thomas – Please Like Me

You would be forgiven for thinking Josh Thomas is still an adolescent. The baby-faced comedian is only nineteen, yet is fast on the way to becoming a seasoned performer on the stand-up comedy scene in Australia. However, this is not Josh’s first appearance at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. In 2005, Josh won the coveted RAW Comedy Competition, and in the following year was selected for the prestigious Comedy Festival "Comedy Zone" show. This year, he is the youngest performer to be doing a full-length show at the Festival.

Josh’s show at this year’s Comedy Festival is aptly titled “Please Like Me”, because, well, he wants us to like him. And, truth be told, there is something about Josh that makes him very likeable. Having this trait is not necessarily the most important thing in comedy (funnily enough, being "funny" is), however it does go a very long way. A likeable comedian can make an average joke funny, and a good joke hilarious. And this is exactly what Josh does.

The show itself takes us on a journey from Josh’s life as an adolescent (which for Josh is only a couple of years ago) to young adult. If you are looking for a show that makes you think as well as laugh, this is probably not the show for you. Without giving too much away, Josh’s routine covers his parent’s divorce, his experience of being bullied at school, his first experience with drugs (don’t do drugs!) and, of course, girls.

Whilst you could argue that a teenager (yes, whilst nineteen is the age when you are classified as a man, can legally drink and vote – but perhaps not at the same time, it is still a "teenager") would not necessarily have experienced enough of the world to make a well-rounded performer, Josh does well at deconstructing HIS world and finding the "funny" in those moments that most of us might gloss over.

Josh’s comedy style could best be described as slightly relaxed. It is almost conversational, but with a slight amount of anxiety attached. It has been said that a good performer is one whose on-stage persona is merely an extension of who they are in "real life". It is quite clear that Josh is comfortable enough on stage to bear himself to his audience – pimples (he doesn’t have any – literally) and all. He is sufficiently self-deprecating and part of you feels like going up and giving him a hug... but maybe not if you’re a guy (you’re better off just laughing).

If the jokes alone are not enough for you to consider seeing his show, then it might be worth taking into account that this is possibly the only show in the Festival where you will receive a lollypop, some Easter eggs and a small badge bearing the name of the show “Please like me”. I am wearing mine right now.

Josh Thomas - Please Like Me runs until April 29 at the Melbourne Town Hall, Cnr Swanston & Collins Sts, Melbourne.

For more on the show, (including booking details), CLICK HERE.

For more on the artist, visit www.joshthomas.com.au

Josh Cohen

I Get the Music in You: An Evening with Jan van de Stool

Queenie van de Zandt’s one-woman show comically probes the failings and complexities of the inner mind, heart and soul by characterising singing therapist, musical masseur and general all-round Dutch fruitloop Jan van de Stool.

The evangelical set sets the tone with its pulpit-like lectern and matching cabinet. But it's not so much a moral code being preached on stage, as it is a therapeutic mission delivered to the audience. Van de Stool compels the audience to begin their healing journey, but the satirical explosion on music therapy only highlights that van de Stool is closer to the maddening crowd than far from it. Point taken. Therapy is madness, and what a joy it is.

First up is musical massage. The audience is engaged in a series of zany body expressions such as "releasing the bird". Hands push out from the chest and into the sky. "Messing up hair" releases tension. These body movements then culminate in a rendition of Bette Midler’s quintessential tear-jerking "Wind Beneath My Wings" as a therapeutic exorcism. Fly ... fly ... fly high against the sky ...

Then there is the individual harmonic narrative. Van de Stool ingeniously oscillates around the stage in a series of spasmodic body movements and facial expressions. Bend, stretch, breathe, quiver, wail, vomit. It’s all good exercise in the therapeutic scheme of things.

But don’t take her word for it. Van de Stool presents some of her success stories calling upon a number of student converts such as the vocally-deprived Simone who grew up around drinkers. I’m guessing she’s still working on her music techniques because the poor thing cannot sing to save her life.

But Van de Zandt throws in a surprise. Portraying one of her students, Van de Zandt immerses herself in a soaring ballad that instantly arrests the audience. It’s a completely unexpected turnaround, causing the audience to murmur and reflect upon the vocal ambush. Van de Zandt’s diverse background in cabaret and music theatre really shines through here, and it’s a spirited reminder that Australia has produced a comic genius whose satire is well-written, nicely paced and beautifully executed.

Does Van der Stool work a character? Indeed she does. If only Van de Stool were real and could join my friends in a sonic beam experience to wash those men right out of our hair. Yes, the erratically determined Van de Stool is oddly endearing. Never mind her projectile vomit or her wayward outbursts at poor sidekick Helen for overplaying the piano. It’s the sheer fact that Van de Zandt’s character easily penetrates through the audience guard with the nutty Van de Stool – that the artist herself has not only done her job but created an affectionately resonating character along the way.

And her character is slowly gaining momentum with each passing year. According to Van de Zandt’s website, this one-woman show has gained critical praise after debuting in Sydney in 2005. It appears that Van de Zandt is even preparing the character for television. With this in sight, it seems likely that Van de Stool may become immortalised in Australia’s fine history of comic characters.

I Get the Music in You: An Evening with Jan van de Stool runs until April 29 at Umbrella Revolution, Federation Square, Melbourne.

For more on the show, (including booking details), CLICK HERE.

For more on the artist, visit www.queenievandezandt.com

Rochelle Wong

A Trucker’s Daughter – Geraldine Hickey

Geraldine Hickey should have been born a boy. Actually, when she was born the nurse rang her dad and told him he was now the proud father of two sons. But when he arrived at his wife’s side with dreams of his newborn boy carrying on the trucker profession he was in for a rude shock because his wife was holding a baby girl. (Hickey reassured us that everything "down there" was in order and always has been. She has no idea why the nurse mistook her for a boy).

And so began Geraldine’s life at the bottom of the Hickey ladder.

To demonstrate this ladder Hickey had on stage a detached fridge door with a picture of the ladder and six rungs – a place for her and each of her siblings who were represented by named fridge magnets.

A Trucker’s Daughter is about Hickey’s struggle to be number one child, importantly to knock her brother out of the coveted top place which is no easy feat when he is favoured because "he has a cock".

This show is full of very funny memories from Hickey’s childhood in a country town with holidays spent in the cab of her dad’s truck on trips to Melbourne, Sydney, Orange and Newcastle and summers spent outside the pub drinking jugs of raspberry lemonade. We get to know the four sisters and one brother through her frank and honest anecdotes; a mixed bag of truck drivers, bogans and nurses.

The intimate surrounds of the Portland Hotel and Hickey’s personable and casual nature instantly puts the audience at ease, giving off a bit of a lounge room vibe. She tells us stories of the time she and her brother, playing at her dad’s work that was a chemical plant, once drank kerosene because it was in a lemonade bottle. She reminisces about her hippie friends and the time she tried to breathe fire, which resulted in a fireball being blown back into her face. She then gives us a demonstration, not using kerosene, but using beer – after sculling a glass and moving herself to second top of the ladder.

Hickey makes to the top of the ladder for a short time although she has to share it with her brother, who will never be knocked out of first place. The way she plays on the father daughter, brother sister relationship works well and the memory of her dad’s sixtieth birthday, especially her rendition of the family dance – "you guys don’t have a family dance? You’re missing out!" – went down a treat.

Her stand-up is of the traditional kind. The audience is regaled with one-liners, fart jokes, boob jokes - she calls them her Christmas trees - and comic yarns. She commands the space, engaging with the audience and seems very at ease. There is a real fondness for her family that is touching and Hickey is never viscous in her observations. She is an expressive performer and does a great re-enactment of the time she clocked her brother between the eyes with a tennis racket.

Hickey has the audience in stitches for most of the show and her Australian flavour is definitely appealing. This recollection of a crowded country childhood with an often absent dad is both entertaining and sweet, filled with quirky memories and sibling rivalry. It’s really important to get out and see the smaller local acts of the Comedy Festival and you’ll thank yourself for it if you do. I did tonight.

A Trucker’s Daughter – Geraldine Hickey runs until April 28 at the Portland Hotel, 115 Russell St, cnr Lt Collins St, Melbourne

For more on the show, (including booking details), CLICK HERE.

For more on the artist, visit www.myspace.com/geraldinehickey

Virginia Millen

The Receipt - Will Adamsdale and Chris Branch

One day, on his way to his office, Wiley finds a receipt from a drink on the ground. Suddenly he has a project he can make sense of. And so begins the very clever and funny English play The Receipt.

Set in the imaginary city of Glondon or Glinden, a world recently discovered and being researched by archaeologists, where train tickets are called oysters, where security passes dictate entrance everywhere, and where technological gadgets are named after fruits – apples, blackberries; this is a story of the futility of modern life.

After his discovery of the paper receipt Wiley (Will Adamsdale) begins to wonder whose receipt this was; what does that barcode mean? Who was Server Eight and could they remember the person who bought this drink from them? Wiley often wonders about odd little things: is his washing machine really trying to secretly escape from his apartment inch by inch? Does his dishwasher actually fill all the way up with water? How can he truly know if the light in his fridge turns off when he shuts the door?

As the slightly unhinged Wiley considers this, we are shown his life - modern life. We see him swipe his way in and out of his building, observe him listening to the footsteps of strangers through the paper thin walls of his apartment block, watch his increasing frustration as his every action is constrained by "procedure" and study the woman who has been waiting on hold just short of twenty six hours.

Chris Branch illuminates this very human world that is essentially a couple of filing cabinets and a chair. The use of props, space, lighting and sound is very resourceful and creative. This is definitely helped by the venue - the Malthouse is nicely intimate with its wooden panelling and inviting atmosphere a warm contrast to Wiley’s cold city.

Branch is able to separate scene from scene effortlessly just by utilising samples of background noise. The office big wig (played by Branch), who is merely a voice over a speaker-phone for most of the play, always has the beginnings of a James Blunt song playing in the background; each time Wiley enters his office we hear the constant ringing of the telephone.

Adamsdale’s expressive but understated Wiley is endearing and engaging. His battle with the soulless day to day office life is treated with clever humour seen especially in the importance of the "busywall"; "not just a wall but a busywall", and of vital use in corporate presentations. Branch’s very amusing characters thwart Wiley at every turn; as his boss, the unsympathetic doorman who sets off the alarm every time Wiley tries to enter or exit the building and the unhelpful barman who drowns Wiley out with pumping music.

This two-man play handles the often ludicrous nature of urban living very sensitively, almost gently. Wyley is a very lonely character who wanders through the streets of Glondon searching for his unknown drinker in a cold world of numbers and security passes. It is not until he is forced to find solace in his five by five foot storage container that Wiley begins to feel content.

Adamsdale and Branch are obviously a very talented team. Their eccentric humour and sharp wit make a critical view of urban life very accessible. This tale of one man’s search in the city is sweet and very insightful with a poignant finish. If you have felt jaded with city life recently and love offbeat English humour than this is the play for you.

The Receipt runs until April 28 at the CUB Malthouse, 113 Sturt St, Sth Melbourne.

For more details on the show (including booking info), CLICK HERE.

Virginia Millen

Dave Callan in Dance of the Flame Retardant Monkey

On the day of David Callan's performance we prepared for this comedic feast to ensure it would be enjoyable. Before leaving home we listened to Joy Division and watched the four-hour Holocaust documentary The Sorrow and the Pity. By the time we were in our seats at the Town Hall we were in desperate need of a laugh. Unfortunately, we left the show in much the same mood as we went in, only slightly more confused because we had been expecting the Comedy festival, not a “Teenage Misanthropy Fest”.

It seemed Dave was using his platform at the festival not to make people laugh, but to make people aware of his political and philosophical views. Attacking Howard, Bush and Western materialism are comedy staples but the jokes simply weren't funny enough and he was preaching to the converted. Nobody wants a lecture at a comedy show and there is a big difference between irreverence and irrelevance.

The frustrating thing is David Callan is a very funny man. Far from relying on his Irish accent and Hagrid-esque looks, he can do improvised comedy with the best of them. The few glimpses we had of this improvisational talent - such as when his nipple nearly popped out of his dashing RAAF uniform or when he started chatting to the drunk man in the front row - were genuinely funny. But instead of playing to his strength, he has decided to rely heavily on a trite PowerPoint presentation in this year's performance. Apart from being unorganised in parts, this detracts from the human element of live comedy which is one of its main draw cards. Also, his attempts to inject some level of hipness with YouTube usage and gangster mimicry just came off as embarrassing. Just because Dave has the antithetical appearance to 50 Cent does not mean impersonations in that vein are going to be funny, which indeed, they were not. We think David should stick to his natural talent for off-the-cuff banter which he excels at regularly on Triple J.

The dramatic high point of the show came thanks to a lone heckler who shouted "hopeless" half way through the routine. Although we weren't enjoying the show David was not hopeless and it was an inaccurate criticism by the angry customer. David was visibly shaken by the comment and appeared to have needed a hug, and he would certainly have amazing hugging skills. But digression is afoot. It was a happy moment when he bounced back with an hilarious characterisation of a Redneck Bogan auditioning to be the presenter of the ABC's Sunday arts program. However such highlights were too few and we'd much rather see him rabbit on with the drunker members of the audience for an hour than be forced to look at images and clips we've already seen on the Internet.

Dave Callan in Dance of the Flame Retardant Monkey runs until April 29 at the Melbourne Town Hall, Cnr Swanston & Collins Sts, Melbourne.

For more on the show, (including booking info) CLICK HERE.

James and Gene Tagliabue