Slutmonster and Friends illustrates a bizarre fairytale where Bovril and Larch become stranded within this strange, carnal land. Lucas Heil brings life to the brooding Larch, who realises that without food or water they will die in this disturbing place, and actively seeks out ways to return home. To his elder brother Bovril, it is a different matter.

Wes Gardner assumes the character of sex-obsessed Bovril, a narcissistic, illogical, and slightly moronic prince who has no contingency plans. Combined, Larch and Bovril provide a stark contrast visually and perspective wise, a contrast similar to that of Marvel’s Thor and Loki.This disparity between the pair creates an effortless humour in the classic comedy vein of a moron and a straight man.

Though the slutmonster is not a predominant character within the storyline, Jessie Ngaio brings an effortless portrayal of the bubbly, sex-obsessed monster. Donning a pink outfit complete with hairy tits and a gargantuan dong, Ngaio’s frenzied movements and over-enthusiasm to Bovril’s sexual advances create an ironic innocence that invoke words like ‘adorable’ and ‘sweet’, despite slutmonster’s promiscuity.

Despite the visual and verbal coital puns saturating the script, there is a pathos achieved from the ‘sane’ characters of Larch and two gigantic, singing muppets. Their somewhat prudish mannerisms create a grounding for the absurdity provided by Bovril and slutmonster, making the comedy credible.

Coupled with the censored, screen-projected chapter narratives, Slutmonster and Friends provides a political mockery of the censorship of news relating to high-powered people. Additionally, these chapter narratives’ divergence from the on-stage interactions elicit more laughter as the audience is completely aware of what is really happening.

Interspersed with catchy musical numbers, fantastic one liners and a brash, dark humour, Slutmonster and Friends is a quirky, sexualized comedy that will leave your sides aching.

Slutmonster and Friends has finished its run at the Fringe Festival. More information on the crew’s future projects can be found on their websites.

This is Siberian Husky are known for their energetic stage presence and wit akin to that of John Cleese. Their Melbourne International Comedy Festival hit Boneshaker received a Brian McCarthy Memoir Moosehead Award earlier this year; therefore, when the pair debuted The Misery Factory at Trades Hall earlier this week, the expectations were high.

Set in a dystopian future, comedians Dan Alleman and Simon Godfrey created a world where being flogged to death is your best Christmas present and trying to shove koalas into a bottle is a hobby. It’s an oh-so-camp and devilishly addictive satire of industrialism.

An obvious virtue of this comedy was its fluidity. The Misery Factory shifted swiftly between each sketch with transitions that were executed through definitive body movements, lighting and sound effects. It is a known fact that This is Siberian Husky orchestrate their own music, write their own scripts, and create their own sound effects. This heavy production involvement was evident in the duo’s impeccable timing.

Godfrey and Alleman were never too slow to miss a joke, and showcased their adroitness by incorporating first-night-bloopers, such as Alleman misjudging a backwards step, into the skits seamlessly. Black humour pervades the comedy, a humour that the audience revelled in with their boisterous laughter and steadfast attention.

It’s the pairs’ delivery and combination of scintillating witticisms that make The Misery Factory so fantastic.

There are absurd witticisms that make you question your own sanity, slap-stick comedy, unorthodox ironies and language puns that help to create flow, rhythm and progression for the overall comedy. This adds depth to the satire, shifting The Misery Factory from forty-five minutes of pure sketch comedy to a profound story about human existentialism.

This is Siberian Husky’s characters were vast and eclectic. Alleman channeled his reservoir of accents, while Godfrey brings his sympathetic portrays of piteous characters with accurate mimicry. It made each sketch diverse, unique and just as characteristically hysterical. Also, This Siberian Husky can act, and well.

An uncanny aspect of The Misery Factory was how each sketch merged into a larger storyline, reminiscent of British classics such as Blackadder, Monty Python’s Flying Circus and A Bit Of Fry & Laurie. This development established an empathy with the crowd that allowed This Siberian Husky to intersperse sporadically profound moments in the comedy that added an ironic wisdom, despite the show’s title.

Overall The Misery Factory is a collusion of dark humour, thespian farce, coupled with unorthodox quips set to the paradigm of a dystopian, industrial future. Miserable, jovial, and deliciously hilarious at best, The Misery Factory by This is Siberian Husky is a must see this Fringe Festival.

The Misery Factory runs until 13 October at the Evatt Room, Trades Hall. Full ticketing information can be found on the Fringe Festival website.

Living with other people is tedious. People are known to ‘borrow’ your possessions, mock your lifestyle choices, have raucous sex during the night, and most importantly, forget that water has a boiling point. They impersonate you for entertainment, and tell other people about you – but not as much as Party At My House does.
Set in the humble suburb of Brunswick East, Party At My House is a series of Big Brother-like confessions of six share-house roommates. Throughout the show we become privy to their secrets and their frustrations of living with other people. Comedian and occasional photographer Marek Platek portrays the strange characters, bringing to light the mutual experiences all house-mates seem to have.

The sixty minute comedy opens when you’re first ushered into the room by a disheveled man with a matted beard. It is later, when he is narrating the story with pompous insanity, that you become aware he is the landlord of this house and he really just wants a cookie. Playwright Audrey Hulm deserves kudos for the implementation of this framing narrative – without it, the transition between each roommate would’ve become disjointed.

The characters are an eclectic collection: a pretentious artist called Karen, a masturbation addict, a hyperactive dog that no one really likes, some person who is called the ‘Internet Vampire Hunter’, Hula Girl, and the much anticipated return of Domestos, the acid fairy. Through them, Party At My House illustrates a story of human existence hidden behind innuendoes, basketball heads and ketamine witticisms.

Karen whines about how no one respects her lifestyle choices as a vegan. Murray, the masturbation addict and car enthusiast with a penchant for hardcore drugs, presents the strange relationships that can occur in share houses. Domestos, being a cleaning product addict, repeats the mantra: ‘Clean as you go!’, a mantra that incited empathetic eye rolls.

Platek’s portrayal of a friendly canine must also be commended – an absolute mockery of those roommates with pets, Benji the dog confesses why he whines at your door, eats your food and ruins your carpet.

In fact, Party At My House is full of idiosyncrasies that make you think: ‘It’s not just me!’ Platek aptly captures the array of expressions associated with these moments, displaying his knack for mimicry. Strange, witty and probably quite familiar, you’ll laugh with, and at, Platek – just like everyone else.

Party At My House will show at The Locker on Wednesday October 10 and Sunday October 14. Tickets are $12 full-price and $10 concession (group tickets are $10 per person for 4 people).

Despite a promising synopsis — two famous gaming villains exchange discourse in a dingy, back alley bar — Nerdgasm, a project by Blernshaw Comedy, lacks the potential comedic flavour that it had to offer. Presented by comedians Avi Bernshaw and Luke Blesser and supported by Of Science & Swords and Critical Hit, the show is a conflation of ego and conceit that only a very hospitable audience could appreciate.

Bleeser portrays Pokémon villain Gary Oak (Ash’s arch-nemesis), who brings a collection of superfluous smartalecky remarks, with jokes ranging from the similarity of Pokémon training and animal abuse to insensitive homophobic ‘jokes’ that are only funny the first time. The Street Fighter villain Master Bison is given voice through the elusive Bernshaw, who manages to appear somewhat modest in comparison to Gary’s gargantuan ego.

Nerdgasm opens in a debauch bar fixed with a backdrop of 16-bit images of Mario mushrooms, potions and elixirs, and screams ‘video-gaming’ down to the wooden beer mugs positioned on the table. We’re introduced to Gary and Bison who are the product of the thought: “What happens to the super villains when they’re defeated?”

Thanks to a series of (mostly) poorly played jokes Nerdgasm can only be appreciated by the hardcore gamer. Nerdgasm does not deliver on its promises of science puns, Doctor Who references, or even a Black Books allusion; nor does it play upon the widely known tropes of gaming, film and television. Rather it wallows, like its characters, in a selection of specific memes reflective of Blernshaw Comedy’s target audience.

The pair’s dance between reality and illusion — mostly provided by Bison, the cannier of the pair — has to be given kudos. Gary manages to have his moments as he conflates his Pokémon with real-world animals, but Bison carries this topic, contributing intelligence to the script through remarks about the unrealistic expectations gaming can place on reality. However, before the pair can delve into something more interesting, Gary intrudes with his bumptious remarks, pulling Nerdgasm backto the banality of repetitive jokes previously established. There’s no development, and this destroys any potential in the performance.

One would assume with previous support from the Melbourne Anime Festival that Nerdgasm would at least be mildly entertaining, but it’s not. The show could have been much more if Bison’s postulations were not continuously stunted by Gary’s insolence and facetiousness, but in the end, it becomes a performance about one canny man and one depressed man at a bar, interspersed with jokes that died too long ago.

Nerdgasm’s run at the Fringe Festival has finished. More information on future Blernshaw Comedy projects can be found at their website.