The New Zealand International Comedy Festival was held in Auckland and Wellington this month. Over the last three weeks, the NZ Herald reviewed some of the top local and international shows throughout the festival, and all the nominees for the Billy T Award.
Three years ago, when Lana Walters was last nominated for the Billy T, the show came a few months before she was due to give birth to her first child and delved in part into her expectations and preparations for that life-changing event.
Now, nominated again and pregnant with No 2, it makes sense for Walters to explore the other side and life raising a 2-year-old.
As the show title suggests, Don’t Lick That is largely about the struggles of controlling and managing a toddler, particularly one who is prone to saying “Run away” in public spaces and then sprinting off whenever they sense an opportunity.
As a childless person, it’s also a bit of a risk seeing new parent material: it can often wear thin and go over old tropes that hinge on gender norms, rather than offering anything new to say. Walters is not trying to reinvent the wheel here, but her perspective on childcare feels fresh, with more of a focus on the world through her child’s eyes and the comedy that comes from that.
Much of the show revolves around her family’s first overseas trip to a trio of former Soviet Union countries for a wedding. The fairly unique setting is mined to its full comedic potential and Walters excels at setting the scene for this unexpected holiday. There’s a runaway toddler in the middle of the Qatar airport, a regrettable visit to a Josef Stalin museum and an even worse outing to the world’s most unsettling petting zoo.
These stories branch out into parenting and toddler-specific stories but Walters balances her material well so it never fully becomes a show about parenting that alienates her familiar audience, without ignoring this huge new part of her life and those who have come along with some relatable parenting comedy.
Her ability always to smile while selling confusion or exasperation is one of Walters’ best assets and is used well multiple times during the set. She also has an easy rapport with the audience, getting some great feedback from parents in the crowd and working it seamlessly into the show.
She has great jokes about the strange things you learn about the world and other people after having a child, including an excellent early set on the gendered things people love to say about newborns, and that carries through to her interactions in Europe.
Her second pregnancy does not come up much during the show but she gets great mileage out of trying to conceive and the highs and lows of that process, including getting permission from a doctor to have sex. If this show is anything to go by, there will be plenty of great material from this next child for Walters’ next show. Relaxed but engaging throughout the show, Walters consistently delivers and has created one of the most pleasant shows of this year’s festival.
Lana Walters’ Don’t Lick That is on at The Basement Theatre in Auckland until May 25th. The show received the Billy T Award. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Rhys Mathewson's new show is his 10th Rodeo. Photo / Supplied
Rhys Mathewson - 10th Rodeo
Rhys Mathewson has been doing comedy for a long time. As the show names suggests, this is his 10th show at the International Comedy Festival and he still holds the record for being the youngest winner of the Billy T Award.
With a lot of experience under his belt, Mathewson can take whatever gambles he wants to now. His 2023 show hinged largely on a single visual gag involving a chair. This year’s show involves a lot of bottle flipping and has a secret feature that sits in the audience’s hand.
But the risk this year is a lot more subtle. The show name and poster (Mathewson sitting backwards on a horse in a Winston Peters parody) suggest a career retrospective to mark hitting the double-digit mark, and indeed they may have been the original plan.
Instead, Mathewson reveals early in the show that, after five years of sobriety, he had a relapse in January this year and that’s what the show will be based on.
It’s an undeniably heavy topic, particularly coming from a comedian who revels in silly punchlines and impressions during his set. The topic is clearly important to Mathewson and that comes through as he unpacks how a series of injuries led to taking strong painkillers and savouring the following high.
It’s not a story with an unhappy ending, or any ending really. Unpacking the incident after only a few months, Mathewson is still in the thick of the recovery from it, and the associated shame and guilt. It’s rare to see a comedian unpack something so personal so relatively soon after it occurred, but the rawness heightens the show and Mathewson is able to explore his feelings almost in real time with the audience.
That leads to some meta-commentary on using humour as a defence mechanism and how it’s easier to unload on an audience than to talk to your own family, and why that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Mathewson acknowledges that he started doing material about his relapse the week it happened and it provides a fascinating look behind the curtain.
The real risk of the show, though, is just how funny it is as well. This could have been a sombre 45-minute look into life overcoming an addiction, and it largely goes in that realm, but Mathewson repeatedly draws in the audience before firing off ridiculous anecdotes about Uber Eats, Bunnings ads and the concept of libraries.
He is an expert joke writer, his timing is better than most and it helps that he loves his jokes as much as the audience does. That meta-commentary seeps through as he tries new asides or ways of delivering and declares them winners while giggling away.
The balance between the two is a difficult one to walk and sometimes the shift from big belly laughs to quiet reflections can be jarring, but the show feels so fluid and malleable that you can see it adapting and growing as Mathewson goes through the set. He gives even attention to his jokes and his contemplations and the vast majority of the time he gets the balance right.
The closing moments, reflecting on making mistakes and how we all get to try again, could say as much about comedy as they do about his personal struggles and Mathewson is someone you could go see six nights in a row and get a different experience each time. It’s a fitting summation of the show, as neat a bow as could be done for a show like this, one that feels concise and finalised but also a work in progress that could be completely different in a month’s time.
What it does confirm is that Mathewson remains at the top of his game and whatever shape this show takes next will remain a must-see.
Rhys Mathewson’s 10th Rodeo was on at Q Theatre’s Loft in Auckland. It won the Director’s Choice Award. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Rhys Nicholson's show is Huge Big Party Congratulations. Photo / Supplied
Rhys Nicholson - Huge Big Party Congratulations
Rhys Nicholson’s career has continued to soar over the past few years. The beloved Australian standup has moved more into the mainstream with roles as a judge on Drag Race Down Under, a Netflix standup special and the release of their memoir, Dish, at the end of last year.
As they took to the stage at Q’s Rangitira theatre on Thursday night though, Nicholson started by stressing how much they still love New Zealand after all these years and amidst amongst their growing profile. Having performed in practically every theatre space in the city over the years - they speak of the joys of Queen St’s unhinged vibe and the dichotomy of people you’ll see in Auckland’s CBD - Nicholson is one of the most regular international comics to visit our shores, and continues to prove why they have built such a dedicated following over that time.
Right from the get-go, Nicholson’s trademark brand of breathless, rapid-fire, borderline manic delivery is on firm display. They have the great ability to cram multiple punchlines into every joke, but deliver each one differently - from a muttered aside, a frantic squawk, or even a simple raised eyebrow to drive home a point - and that you never know quite where the next laugh will come from or how hard the joke will hit you.
After discussing their engagement with their his long-time partner Kyran (still not quite a name) in previous shows, Huge Big Party Congratulations follows Nicholson in the months after the couple’s their wedding and how it marks getting older, and the changing bodily pains and unknown symptoms that come with that.
Slowly, Nicholson builds towards the show’s real throughline - the topic of children, or rather the persistent questioning from those with children about when the childless are going to join them “on the rocks”, as Nicholson puts it.
Nicholson isn’t someone to beat you over the head with the theme, or make a big show of how clever they are for drawing things together. This framework instead allows Nicholson to cover a range of topics, diving back into their childhood and their own terrible behaviour to question if they want to deal with that themselves, as well as unpacking mental health and the highs and lows of taking drugs.
While Nicholson delivers his jokes as if they have just occurred to them in some state of frantic desperation, the blurred lines between where one story ends and the next begin show how intricately they have crafted the show, each piece fitting perfectly together even if you don’t realise it in the exact moment.
With some of the sharpest punchlines, eccentric delivery, and a distinctively queer lens, Nicholson was once again a treat from start to finish, a show so densely packed with jokes you want to immediately on repeat sit through it again just to savour it all over again.
Rhys Nicholson’s Huge Big Party Congratulations was on at Q Theatre’s Rangitira in Auckland and Te Auaha’s Tapere Nui in Wellington. It won Best International Show. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Advait Kirtikar is a 2024 Billy T nominee. Photo / Supplied
Advait Kirtikar - New Show, Who Dis?
Inflating the sense of hotshot-ness can be tempting when trying to impress someone who doesn’t know you. Advait Kirtikar’s schtick is to do the opposite. His demeanour is awkward. His energy is low. He probably doesn’t like you. And yet, the Billy T Award nominee’s new show is a memorable, hilarious and endearing affair that goes down like a deceptively tasty mocktail for those who revel in deadpan comedy.
The Wellingtonian kicks off the first part of New Show, Who Dis? at Auckland’s Basement Theatre sporting a red-and-white striped shirt - a nod to Where’s Wally?. As an up-and-coming comedian, Kirtikar’s need for his punchlines and anecdotes to help the audience get to know him makes sense. They also serve the comedian in that he also gets to know himself. “I wore this shirt because I’m trying to find myself,” he remarks. The “good dad, bad date” feeling goes on to fill his 50-minute set, which is glazed with relatable content: the struggles of understanding people, trying to find love, uncoolness and apathy towards life. And the crowd - albeit a small one of around a dozen or so - was laughing all the way.
Kirtikar’s style is characterised by his monotonous tone, slow pace and delivery of dry wit while he holds an eerily calm demeanour that only enhances the impact and surprise of the jokes for the audience. It’s this lack of charm that becomes charming in itself. He also uses a screen and there’s a short burst of physical comedy, adding another layer of creativity to the show.
Even though this crowd was small, you could comfortably imagine Kirtikar’s performance on the biggest stages in the country. The comic’s unique ability to turn nihilism and humour in the mundane into fine art proves he’s a dark horse in the game.
Advait Kirtikar’sNew Show, Who Dis? was at Auckland’s Basement Theatre and Wellington’s Cavern Club. The show is one of the Billy T Award nominees for 2024. Reviewed by Varsha Anjali.
Rhiannon McCall is a 2024 Billy T Award nominee.
Rhiannon McCall - Toxic Shock Bimbo
A regular in the comedy and improv scene for many years now, Rhiannon McCall is one of the country’s top improvisers and a strong advocate for that art form.
While she’s less known as a stand-up comic, Toxic Shock Bimbo makes a strong case for the diversity of her talents, and how those improv and character skills can be translated to this environment.
The show revolves around McCall wanting to be liked. A simple premise, but one that provides a good set-up for her stories, and a recurring element where she measures the audience’s response with a special “machine” (one that is best seen in person) after delivering edgier or more disturbing anecdotes.
Even when discussing massacres, toxic inner voices or serious health problems, McCall remains energetic and bubbly, smiling for pretty much the entire show, with a charm that carries her through to the end.
Her improv skills see her at ease with interacting with the audience - she makes everyone comfortable when she approaches them and is able to riff quickly on what she gets back from them. One of her best moments comes when she steals a beer from someone who darted to the bar mid-show.
She brings a few characters into the show as well, including a misogynistic New York comic as an “opening act” and an assertively positive Customs agent. McCall commits to each one, particularly with her Customs agents as they’re able to interact strongly with the crowd. There’s an odd balance between them though - there’s not enough characters for them to be the premise of the show, but enough that they can interrupt the flow.
It is indicative of the busyness of the show. There’s lot of variety which McCall packs into her hour, and she excels at the individual parts, but the elements don’t all work alongside each other. The jokes by themselves would have been enough to showcase McCall’s talent, and the longest stretch between characters is where the show feels the strongest, with great gags, unique observations and a total willingness to dig deeply into her personal life without shame. She is a captivating and talented comic throughout, though, and if her goal really was to be liked, than McCall more than achieved it.
Rhiannon McCall’s Toxic Shock Bimbo was at Auckland’s Basement Theatre. The show is one of the Billy T Award nominees for 2024. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Tough Tiger Fist is a Billy T Award nominee.
Tough Tiger Fist - Star-Crossed Brothers
Tough Tiger Fist are a semi-professional musical comedy duo from Waiuku. We know this because they state it several times throughout the show, mainly at the start of the set. Members Ben Cleland and Matt Parker get early wins in with jokes about their hometown and their dairy roots, which leads into a song written for a dairy company that rhymes with “definitely not Fonterra” - sung from a cow’s perspective about being milked.
It’s a good tone-setter, and despite the song consisting of variations on one joke, the two are equally passionate in their performance, and it’s catchy enough that it sticks with you during the show.
Rather than this being a scene-setter for the rest of the show, this is all we get of the seemingly real Ben and Matt. Once the song is done, the two are killed off and become Ken and Pat, two hopeless police officers who investigate the murder of Tough Tiger Fist.
It’s an intriguing premise and one that could have been developed into a strong show, but this is not that show. Rather than focusing on one element, the show is filled with costume changes, different characters, pre-filmed video elements and parody songs. They are experimenting a lot - all ideas that could have worked individually, but which make little sense when put together.
If the comedy throughout was stronger, much of that could be forgiven, but the show is short on well-crafted jokes. They instead opt repeatedly for either an attempt at “so bad they’re good” punchlines or stating topical references as if that’s enough to make them funny. There is a scattering of potentially clever jokes in there, but they are undersold or treated as dismissively as their purposefully bad puns so they don’t stand out.
The duo are uneven in their delivery styles - most of the songs feature Cleland remaining static behind a keyboard while Parker acts out the lyrics in big sweeping motions. Parker brings a lot of the energy to the performance, particularly as a very John Cleese-influenced French villain, acting as a large contrast to Cleland’s seemingly purposeful lowkey, monotone delivery - it doesn’t help sell them as “star-crossed brothers”.
The two are clearly having a ball on stage, and that’s what Star-Crossed Brothers ultimately comes across as: two high school friends goofing around and having fun. There’s nothing wrong with two comedians entertaining themselves, but refining what they love would be ideal in order to more adroitly bring the audience along with them.
Tough Tiger Fist’s Star-Crossed Brothers was performed at Q Theatre’s Vault in Auckland. The show is one of the Billy T Award nominees for 2024. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Liv McKenzie made her Comedy Gala debut earlier this year. Photo /Jinki Cambronero
Liv McKenzie - Crybaby
Liv McKenzie’s star has been on the rise steadily over the last few years, benefiting from standout showings at the Comedy Gala and TV gigs. The Billy T nomination this year is just the latest recognition on her blossoming career, but near the end of Crybaby, it’s clear that this has been a long time coming.
McKenzie dedicates a chunk of the show to showcasing a scrapbook she made for the Billy T application process, highlighting interactions with the country’s top comics over the last decade both as a fan and as a colleague. McKenzie’s love of the art of comedy makes up the backbone of this show, and she makes a strong argument for herself to be considered alongside this pantheon of talent.
That is in a large part due to the confidence she brings to the stage. From the moment she stepped out on Tuesday in a flash of pink, McKenzie feels fully at home on stage, performing so casually that it comes across like the jokes are coming to her on the spot.
The only times that quickfire, breezy attitude is dented is when the odd glitch with the accompanying PowerPoint and music interrupted the show, but all times McKenzie was able to move on without letting those mistakes get in the way, the errors never showing up as concerns.
The breezy side helps sell a lot of the jokes, particularly the early set that ventures into sex and poop jokes quite a lot. It’s material that wouldn’t work in weaker hands, and McKenzie seems aware of that, leaning into the immaturity and naughtiness of some of the material with a touch of physicality and clear glee at what she’s doing.
The confident side does provide one half of the meaning behind ‘Crybaby’. McKenzie jokes about learning how to use her emotional side to get what she wants, as well as feeding her love of attention. On the flipside, the title refers to her mental health and the crises that emerge from her lower moments and struggles. It’s familiar territory for comics, and McKenzie’s breezy confidence tends to skip over the weight of some of this material at times, but still manages to make it her own.
The strongest moments come at the end, tying the many threads together in surprising ways, including a well-timed video cameo. The latter half is perhaps a little too focused on other comedians at times, but McKenzie brings it home in the final moments with some brilliant callbacks and musical moments, and ultimately delivers a playful, hilarious show that makes a strong case for her being the star she longs to be.
Liv McKenzie’s Crybaby is on at The Basement Theatre in Auckland until May 25th. The show is one of the Billy T Award nominees for 2024. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Eli Matthewson's new comedy show is Night Terrors. Photo / Supplied
Eli Matthewson - Night Terrors
It’s been three years since Eli Matthewson won the Fred Award for his moving show Daddy-Short-Legs, where he dived into the story of his father coming out as gay in his 60s. In that time, Matthewson has become more of a household name, with appearances on Dancing with the Stars, Celebrity Treasure Island and Paddy Gower Has Issues, alongside co-hosting The Edge Breakfast in 2022.
As his profile has grown, his comedy skills have sharpened as well. Night Terrors is perhaps the most mature and focused Matthewson has been in a solo show - even when talking about things like soggy biscuits.
Gone are the PowerPoints, sketches and props he has used in previous hours. Instead, Matthewson is alone onstage for the full hour without any aids, and fully delivers.
Maturity and getting older is an undercurrent through the show itself. The hour starts with his giving the audience permission to check their phones, noting his own experiences with doing material about Margaret Thatcher, and then coming off stage to learn she has died. It serves as a bookend for the eventual “night terrors”, in that Matthewson is worried he might become more conservative the older he gets.
While the explicit acknowledgement of the show name doesn’t come until the last stretch of the show, Matthewson takes us on a whistle-stop journey through many other fears and concerns along the way, notably his experiences with being robbed multiple times in the past year and how that led to his nearly being murdered by his boyfriend.
The other notable experiences of his past year - losing his job as part of Newshub’s closure, and getting “blue-pilled” on Celebrity Treasure Island - are touched on, but unlike his 2023 show, Gutterball, that focused prominently on his DWTS elimination, these references form solid asides without retreading similar ground.
Matthewson is a natural storyteller and has a relaxed energy that puts the audience at ease, making people comfortable to share on the few occasions he prompts for feedback. The breezy side is deceptive in a way, masking the many seeds he plants during the hour that bloom in the final moments to bring the whole show together.
The aforementioned “soggy biscuit” bit ends up as a bonus stinger at the end - Matthewson’s own Marvel post-credits scene after riffing on that trend earlier - and it’s a jarring companion to the rest of the show, but a bold choice to make and one that Matthewson just about gets away with.
The hour lacks the emotional moments that made Daddy-Short-Legs a winning show, but Matthewson’s growth as a standup is on full display, and the jokes and narrative structure are easily on par with that highpoint of his career. His hard work over the past decade has seen him reap the rewards in the past few years of TV roles, and Night Terrors shows he is not slowing down any time soon.
Eli Matthewson’s Night Terrors was on at Auckland’s Q Theatre. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
His show is called Secrets, but those intimate revelations didn’t see the stage until the last chunk of Pax Assadi’s set – something the Billy T award-nominated comedian acknowledged – and instead the performance was dominated by commonly held beliefs, social mores and familiar experiences.
Race, class and the immigrant experience are the definitive themes of Assadi’s work – they formed the premise for his show Raised by Refugees – and drew some of the biggest laughs of his hour on stage at Sky City Theatre. It’s the biggest venue he’s ever performed solo, he tells the crowd, and jokes about making good money from the gig throughout the show.
The near-full audience was a diverse mix of Auckland denizens: age, race, background. This speaks to Assadi’s comedy as much as the city itself. He warms up the crowd, asking them to make some noise as he calls out different countries and races. Pakistan gets a handful of cheers, Iran considerably more; Assadi’s roots are in both countries. “So many Iranians,” he says with surprise. “No wonder the whole room smells like Hugo Boss.” It’s an early win. Super specific, culturally nuanced jokes poking fun at cliches and identity markers are what he does best.
Contrary to what some may say, people do like to laugh at themselves, and Assadi’s humour speaks to a broad church. We’ve all felt uncomfortable about our race before, so we might as well laugh about it. He errs away from political correctness, and there were plenty of hand-over-mouth moments of shock and laughter.
Family matters are a prominent topic – an anecdote about his children’s formerly homeless pet cat was great, as was his impression of the feline’s contemptuous rear end – and Assadi seems to be in a reflective era, with much of the set exploring topics of ageing, parenthood and elderly relatives.
A bit about 21-year-olds (the age he was when he married his older wife, he tells us) being idiots goes down well, everyone can relate to that, but a segment dedicated to his grandmother and how the family experiences her Alzheimer’s diagnosis has a harder landing.
Also challenging was an admittedly intoxicated – “tanked” – audience member in the front row, whose shrill, unrelenting cackle (regardless of punchlines) nearly derailed the show from the outset. Assadi handled it well, all things considered, though it was an unnecessary and unfair distraction. However, you don’t have a comedy show without an audience, and the dynamic between a stand-up and their crowd is critical to the art form. Controlling the audience is testing.
Speaking of which, Assadi took the chance to try some new material, reading out a brain dump of half-formed jokes from his phone in a wall-breaking section that worked well, a breather of sorts. It’s not a groundbreaking mechanism, but it’s a successful one, serving to show the work behind the comedy. These musings drew laughs; they’re jokes that are quick, potential-filled and easy to digest, like an amuse-bouche or a TikTok video.
The “secrets” of the show’s title are three, and the best was a side-splitting anecdote about a childhood trip to Pakistan that resulted in a quite literally shit show (poo jokes are universally funny, transcending race and creed) and it was the strongest of the trio.
Also strong was his criticism of racial supremacy. Assadi embraces cultural, racial and ethnic differences – stressing this near the end of the show – and he challenged the idea that any group should be superior. “We’re all different and good at our own things,” he said - like government-level corruption and tax fraud, he joked. The audience cracked up. People like laughing at themselves.
Pax Assadi’s Secrets was at the Sky City Theatre in Auckland on May 18. Reviewed by Emma Gleason.
Guy Montgomery's new standup show is 50,000 Guy Fans Can't Be Wrong. Photo / Supplied
Guy Montgomery - Over 50,000,000 Guy Fans Can’t Be Wrong
Auckland’s Civic Theatre is undoubtedly one of, if not the, grandest theatres in this country. From the art deco decals to that starry night roof, a visit to this space is as much of an experience as whatever show you’re there to see.
And that sets a certain expectation for the performances that grace its nearly 100-year-old stage. Whether that’s an acclaimed Broadway show, a performance from a top musician, or the best of world cinema, to perform at the Civic is a statement. Other venues may be just as big, but the Civic is an icon, and any performance that thinks its can match its grandeur has to prove it.
Rarely does it play host to stand-up comedians, outside of the occasional Comedy Gala. Even the most famous international acts tend to avoid it, choosing one of the other major venues in the area.
For Guy Montgomery to choose this space for his Comedy Festival show - a one-night-only event in front of roughly 2000 people - is the boldest move by a local comic in some time. It’s a gamble that Montgomery has earned the right to make. Ten years of performing at the International Comedy Festival, a hit podcast to his name, fresh off a win last year for the Fred Award for Best Show, and already being poached by Australia for TV gigs there, Montgomery has become one of our biggest comedy exports.
His talent is on display before he comes on stage, mocking the back announce that all comedians have to do, before turning the walk on stage into a gag. Any pre-show nerves were likely evaporated thanks to a group in the front rows that were still sorting out their seats when he started, and the riff.
If those nerves remained, they never showed the rest of the evening. Alone on stage except for the mic stand and his water, and despite not being a physical comedian in the slightest, Montgomery still filled the space and was entrancing to watch the whole show. He is a master storyteller, with the fantastic ability to make the absurd sound so casual and normal.
He spends longer on anecdotes than other comics, giving the audience time to settle in as he builds up the various pieces of his particular punchlines. Topics like being pulled over by the cops and the downsides of travel are familiar material for standups, but Montgomery’s unique perspective and laser focus make each one feel fresh. Both come early in the set to help set the tone for the more out-there reads later, building up to why he believes he’s in a lesbian relationship and men’s uncomfortable relationship with sport.
There are brief asides scattered throughout, but Montgomery knows not to waste time digging into more standard material, like the problems with Gen Z, when one killer joke is enough to draw a line under a topic.
This was like a masterclass in stand-up comedy. Montgomery easily matched the same perfection that he brought to his award-winning show last year, and met the challenge he set himself of bringing his worldview to the Civic. It was the biggest show of one of our biggest comedy stars, and will further solidify Montgomery’s place in our comedy hall of fame.
Guy Montgomery’s 50,000 Guy Fans Can’t Be Wrong was at the Civic Theatre in Auckland on May 17th. The show will be touring New Zealand in late May and June. Reviewed by Ethan Sills
Tom Sainsbury's new comedy show is The Man With The Cup From The Staffroom.
Tom Sainsbury - The Man With The Cup From The Staffroom
It could have been a gossip sesh with your best friend over a glass of chardy at the kitchen table.
Perhaps one of New Zealand’s most recognisable comedians, everyman Tom Sainsbury has perfected the art of relatable content.
Despite performing to a packed Q Theatre, the 42-year-old - donning understated jeans and a shirt - managed to create an intimate vibe with his delivery, which resembled a good-natured gossip or bitch session between a colleague or a flatmate. In fact, both such figures are part of his act. He delivers his lines as if he is pointing out something slightly salacious under his breath in the office kitchen, with plenty of self-deprecation thrown in.
Each embarrassing disclosure only builds a greater rapport with the audience.
The audience participation at the beginning of his set plays to his demographic (which he points out several times is women aged 35 to 60, who revel in sharing his Instagram reels on their family WhatsApp chats).
In one bit during his stand-up, Sainsbury describes his recent journey toward mindfulness (to “visualise a better you”) but not quite understanding the brief.
All his aspirations involve meeting or befriending things or natural phenomena that no normal person would or could ever experience. From these strange starting points, he always comes back to the mundane domestic worries that make his online video characters so amusing. The poor architectural taste of his grandfather, a past job as a receptionist in which he only did 12 minutes of actual work which was shared with another temp, and his frustrations over the price of watermelons.
You feel awkward for him, but it’s a shared awkwardness with no pity.
Despite Sainsbury claiming he wants endorsement from teenage boys for what he hopes is edgy content, he embraces the normal, everyday irritations and trials of a fairly bland suburban life.
All his dorky shortcomings are on show, but there is at the same time a kind of unbothered resignation to the fact the Gen Zs just don’t get him.
He is one of the audience in spirit and happy to be there, plodding along and reflecting on his inadequacies in a very understated but perceptive way. Sainsbury the real person must know himself well.
There is no rage in his comedic voice, he doesn’t stray into controversial topics and never punches down. But in this age of outrage, maybe playing up to that outrage, being the rebel, is actually the easier laugh. Sainsbury’s voice is almost unique in this climate because he doesn’t play off race, gender or sexuality. He caricatures stereotypes but does it without spite, leaving the audience just nodding along in agreement.
Sainsbury’s whole show is like a warm hug.
Tom Sainsbury’s The Man With The Cup From The Staffroom is on at Auckland’s Q Theatre until May 17. Reviewed by Alanah Eriksen.
Discomfort in a comedy show usually is a bad thing. But for Nazeem Hussain, it’s glorious. A mixture of belly laughs and tension, the Australian comedian and actor artfully demands more from his audience - and the result is exceptional.
Like wine, Hussain’s comedy proves to age well; after a two-year break from the stage, he’s better than ever. Before his new stand-up Totally Normal even begins at Auckland’s SkyCity Theatre, Hussain characteristically mocks racial stereotypes with his choice of pre-show music. Setting a relaxed and unmistakably sexy vibe, the 39-year-old arrives on stage after Ludracris’ track Potion and Saweetie’s Tap In finish playing - as if in satirical reply to his later-made comment that pop culture rarely sexualises South Asians. It was a full-house attendance, albeit a slightly tardy one that is typical of community-driven events like this one (or, as Hussain called it, “brown lateness”).
Hussain skilfully highlights the hypocrisies of society through his punchlines. Whether it’s how we view certain crimes committed by different groups of people or how various cultures approach mental health, the comic can get the audience laughing fiercely almost every 10 seconds, like a conductor waving his invisible baton at his obedient instruments. Using accents and stories of discrimination, the sufferings of being a parent, and the complexities - and warmth - of his family dynamics, Hussain’s comedy is relatable to the underdog, the everyman - to anyone who has ever felt different.
But the crowd didn’t always laugh. Awkward silence can reflect poorly on the comedian who perhaps failed to deliver - that wasn’t the case here. Awkward silence can also reveal a great deal about the audience. What topics do we, as Kiwis, find acceptably funny - and which ones are off limits? Does a laugh carry moral weight? Hussain navigated where this specific audience’s line was with empathy and cheek. It turns out: Muslims and terrorism - funny. George Pell and paedophilia - not funny. Then, we arrived at the point: Gaza. It was a mixed reaction.
Comedic protest isn’t new - neither is Hussain to the scene. And yet, Totally Normal is a breath of fresh air. What makes him remarkable is that he seeks to go beyond laughter. The audience ends up in places it would have otherwise been reluctant to visit, examining what it decided is normal, laughing anyway.
Nazeem Hussein’s Totally Normal was at Auckland’s Q Theatre and is at Wellington’s Te Auaha’s Tapere Iti from May 23. Reviewed by Varsha Anjali.
Abby Howells and Angella Draivd star in The Improfessionals.
Abby Howells and Angella Dravid - The Improfessionals
As two winners of the Billy T Award and part of the longest stretch of female winners in the award’s history, Abby Howells and Angella Dravid are forever linked as part of this pantheon of rising comedic talent.
For a casual observer, the similarities would likely end there. Dravid is best known for her deadpan delivery, while Howells is brimming with a cheerful energy every time she steps on stage.
They seem like an odd couple to be doing a joint show together, but when they walk on stage for The Improfessionals, dressed in matching pink outfits, you quickly start to see they are more alike than you’d initially think.
The differences in delivery are still there but the two complement each other, evening out the energy while never skipping on the comedy.
Working together also helps to be a palate cleanser for them both. Dravid won the Billy T for a show in which she detailed her experience in prison in Britain, while Howells won after previously detailing her experiences with sexual harassment in the industry.
They are done with those experiences now and want to be observational comedians - even if their observations are niche and only relevant to them.
Howells’ set is focused on her experiences during and after winning the Billy T last year, including hyper-specific feuds with one local business, but also covers off her experiences discovering her comedic chops during her high school musical. One joke about how a certain role was dual-cast delivers a casually brutal punchline that other comedians will struggle to top this festival.
Dravid, who is back on stage for her first festival show since 2021 and her first since giving birth to her first child, references having “baby brain” several times and has to be prompted by Howells. However, she has such a casual, almost dismissive style of delivery that it works perfectly with her demeanour and becomes an endearing part of the show.
Her comedy remains as sharp as always, particularly her darkly comic observations on having a high-risk pregnancy and the months afterwards, creating a fresh take on the new-parent sub-genre of stand-up.
By sharing the stage and mixing the light and shade, both comedians play to their strengths while delivering tight sets that kill with every line. It provides a reset for both and a great transitional show you can see being refined into a solid hour for each for 2025.
The Improfessionals with Abby Howells and Angella Dravid is on at The Basement’s Theatre in Auckland until May 11. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
Tom Cashman is best known for his role on Taskmaster Australia.
Tom Cashman - Everything
It’s a rare treat and privilege to be able to see an international comic’s debut show in a country. While Tom Cashman has built a steady reputation for himself over recent years in Australia, with a series of viral appearances on The Project and a steady social media presence, this week marks the first time he has performed here in New Zealand.
He’s smartly striking while the iron is hot, coming off the debut season of Taskmaster Australia, the latest spinoff of the incredibly popular series in which five comedians compete in a series of deranged challenges over the course of a season. Cashman fills the assistant role in the show, which aired on TVNZ+ last year, and was a natural fit for a role that, on-screen at least, is part referee, part teacher’s pet, and part interactive prop for whatever the comedians want.
That energy carries through to his on-stage presence. In Everything, Cashman is breezing through a range of subjects and stories, many of which share a particular pedantry and unique interpretation that seems born from writing the specific requirements of a Taskmaster challenge, whether that’s dealing with customer engagement surveys or nitpicking who the real winner of a dick-measuring contest is.
Like most other millennial comedians, Cashman is aided by a PowerPoint throughout to hit some of the punchlines. Not only is it one of the best-designed ones you’ll ever see at a stand-up show, but Cashman also ensures it’s actually integral to the punchlines rather than a prop for setting up jokes, with graphs, emails and a spot of colour co-ordination heightening the show.
Despite being advertised as an hour, the show on Tuesday night was only a little over 45 minutes, though with a bonus-element QR code gag at the end like a Marvel post-credits scene, which ties the show’s elements together. While the shorter show doesn’t quite get to “Everything”, Cashman’s self-deprecating charm and specific point of view is a welcome treat and seems set up for far more local performances in years to come.
Tom Cashman - Everything is on at Q Theatre’s Vault in Auckland until May 10 and at Wellington’s Te Auaha’s Tapere Iti on May 11. Reviewed by Ethan Sills.
