There’s an argument to be made that the world is in the less than stellar shape that it is right now because far too many of us are formulating our perceptions and our personal, un-peer reviewed opinions and offering them up as if they were fact. It’s a reprehensible thing to do, but if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. So, let’s dive in…
In 2025, every single act in the Melbourne International Comedy Festival was either queer or neurodiverse, and frequently both. In 2026, every single act is a person or people of colour. OK, that’s obviously nonsense, but we saw three shows comprising seven comedians on Saturday, and there was not a white person among them. And how brilliant was that?
In previous years we’ve been the token white faces in a huge crowd all coming together for Brown Women Comedy – with a bevy of female Asian comics of varying degrees of talent all lumped together to ensure they got a decent audience between them.
Now the tables have turned. For Anisa Nandaula, at the show this reviewer attended, there were a handful of Black people in a predominately white sold-out crowd. Now, she has, I am reliably informed, a big social media following and she’s done a bit of telly with appearances on Thank God You’re Here and Talkin’ ‘Bout Your Generation, but she’s hardly a household name. Yet. So, it was indubitably heartening to see this response.
Anisa Nandaula review – quick links
Anisa Nandaula’s growing profile
Clearly delighted to be on stage and grateful for the opportunity to play in a much bigger space than last year, Nandaula literally bounced onto the stage to shower love and affection on the packed Supper Room crowd and thank us for leaving our houses on such a wet and blustery Melbourne afternoon.
Crowned Melbourne International Comedy Festival’s best newcomer in 2025, which must have done wonders for an already confident performer, she labelled every last one us ‘little cutie pies’ and dived into the crowd work, trying especially hard to spot any other Black faces in the audience.
But it would have been unwise to be lulled into a false sense of security. There were hidden stings waiting for the unwary, even if she didn’t include her two most popular TikTok gags to date in the set. (That would be the one about squashed tourists and good Ugandan coffee, and that even more pointed one about how she proves to people she’s not an American, which have earned 1.6 million and 4 million views on the platform respectively.)
The set has plenty of other colour-related jokes to make up for it, but delivered with such a cheeky grin and irrepressible dynamism that she is very hard to resist.
ArtsHub: How comedians survive the social media trap during festival season: ‘I hate it!’
Much of the material in No Small Talk revolves around a trip to Kenya, her Asian boyfriend and the misunderstandings and false assumptions people make about people with a multifaceted heritage. Even when delivering pieces ostensibly displaying how mean she can be – emailed noise complaints to neighbours sent from her partner’s account – she does it with such a wicked sparkle, the likeability factor doesn’t budge.
Her family, especially her father, come in for some ribbing – with a joke about what the ATO really stands for proving that the most specific cultural humour can absolutely be universal if the joke is well-delivered.
Boundless energy
Nandaula apparently was inspired to switch from poetry slams to stand up comedy by Covid, with an understandable desire to simply make people laugh instead of just think or be depressed.
It’s only been a year or two since she started seeing enough success to leave a high-paying job and pursue comedy full-time, so if there are slight gaps between the gags, or the timing of the punchlines isn’t always as tight as it could be, this is surely something that will come with time.
ArtsHub: See all Melbourne International Comedy Festival reviews
Some of the thoughts could also do with a little more refining, or just be pushed further – white supremacists having their movement usurped by Indians is a rich mine – but the initial ideas are solid.
Her crowd work is pretty strong, especially when handed a gift like the white man who revealed his name to be ‘Snowy’ at the Saturday show, but the frequent eye shading to try and see the audience isn’t great – a word with the lighting operator could assist here.
At least she herself is well lit, though, which is more than can be said for another show we saw on Saturday.
This is only the second full-length show Nandaula has crafted after last year’s You Can’t Say That. And, after all, there’s a big difference between landing a gag on a five- or 10-second TikTok and threading together an hour-long show of them.
Her attitude, energy and charisma have such power that it’s almost guaranteed the only way is up.
