Here is a play that every activist, racist, historian, student, business man, and housewife – in fact, every citizen – should see, produced by a company which is continually raising the bar for student theatre. Fregmento Stokes, writer of the outstanding 2008 musical Melbourne Model: The Musical, has outdone himself with his latest piece 1938: An Opera, performed at Union House Theatre and Melbourne University.

The idea for 1938 came out of a summer subject called “On Country Learning”, in which Stokes met Yorta Yorta singer/songwriter Lou Bennet, who would go onto to mentor Stokes through the project. In the show, Stokes takes the audience back to 1938 and the 150^th anniversary of European settlement on Australian shores, where the government has prepared a re-enactment of Captain Cook’s landing at Phillip Cove. 1938 also marks the first major public protest against the treatment of Indigenous Australians and the White Australia Policy, named “The Day of Mourning”, in which members of the Indigenous and non-Indigenous community marched through Sydney to Trades Hall.

Together with director Tom Gutteridge, Stokes creates an alternative history though a rehashing of the events of that day, utilizing aspects of traditional opera, Cantonese opera, 70s lounge and Greek chorus to create an enthralling “what might have been” environment.

1938 is laden with irreverent humour, wildly inappropriate commentary on life in the 1930s, and confronting yet amusing reflection on contemporary Australian culture and the reconciliation debate.

However, there is a moment where the play moves from the satirical to the darkly serious and extremely political, and this tangibly jolted the audience, who, it seemed, sometimes didn’t know whether to laugh or stare in horror. The most unsettling thing was the musical’s refusal to dismiss the atrocities occurring on stage as simply being artifacts of the past – even an invented one. Constant references to contemporary debate and culture were just enough to keep the knowledge that the issues being discussed and exposed are still of concern today in the forefront of the audience’s mind.

This is balanced, however, by the composition and musical direction, which is delightful, and truly out of this world. Ashlee Clapp  – who learnt Cantonese from scratch in order to compose an authentic Cantonese opera piece – provides solid support for a talented cast of singers, across and hugely wide range of musical styles.

One cannot go past the female leads in this production. Jessie Lloyd plays a charmingly genuine Marge Tucker, which clashes brilliantly against the passionate and hugely dramatic Italian anarchist Lucia Bertazzon, played by Christiana Aloneftis. But it was Stephanie John as the obnoxious and unapologetically non-politically correct Cordelia Cramp that stole the show. Blessed with a fantastic, irreverent character who by far delivered the most cringe-worthy lines of the production, John delivered the role with flair, making even the most racist and insensitive material funny, yet poignant.

Opening night hiccups were few and easily smoothed over, and perhaps the only criticism I can level at the production is the clunky scene transitions, and occasional awkward and expositional descriptions in order to identify certain historical figures.

With that said, 1938 takes a vastly wide range of background and cultural influence to deliver a fantastically insightful, intelligent and very funny performance.

1938: An Opera runs until 13 October at The Open Stage, The University of Melbourne. Tickets are $25 full-price and $15 concession.

Shuffle your stool closer and prop up your elbows: this is one barman you need to keep your eye on. From the Lounge Bar at St. Kilda’s tiny Felix Bar, Bar Studies 101 explores the science, history and psychology behind Australia’s favourite past-time in hilarious fashion.

Toeing the line between comedy and science is Owen Collins, self-professed science communicator – bridging the gap between science and those who hate talking about science. From his humble origins in Questacon where he balanced censoring his shows for kids and embarrassing himself in front of the Israeli Ambassador, Collins has stumbled upon the perfect way for intelligent science nerds to show off their expertise without boring the metaphorical pants of us mere mortals. Lacing jokes with absolutely fascinating information and plenty of “Oh wow!” moments, Collins manages to deliver an experience you will find behind no other bar.

Collins manages to strike the perfect balance between cheeky humour and fascinating historical, cultural and scientific information. The man is clearly a talented performer, and the intimate space really facilitates his ability to utilize the audience in his comedy. He is obviously really passionate about science and booze, and clearly got a real kick out of sharing this with his audience.

The result was unlike anything I had experienced before. Whilst I was relaxed and thoroughly entertained, I actually learnt so much, not just about the science behind booze, but the culture, history and psychology that surrounds it. I have to admit this really surprised me. Whilst not an entirely original idea – Mythbusters springs to mind immediately – Collins has found a really great way to teach, and to debunk some of the stigmas surrounding science, and I think he should be applauded for that.

If you’re looking for a class in ‘mixology’ or 101 ways to get trashed using science, look elsewhere, and definitely don’t bring along kids or your inhibitions. Here is a talented storyteller mixing a cocktail of facts with just enough alcohol to make it interesting, accessible and just plain good fun.

Bar Studies 101 runs until 14 October at The Felix Bar. Tickets are $15 full-price or $10 for Tuesday sessions (group tickets are $10 per person for 4 people).

Sometimes expectation can make or break a show, and there was no shortage of the stuff as Mark Butler bounced onto the stage with a sold-out opening night and a smash hit show from last year’s Fringe on his shoulders. Grammar Don’t Matter on a First Date packed venues last year, and there was just the right mix of expectation and anticipation in the air as the audience filed into the Portland Hotel for Butler’s Word Swallower on Thursday.

Butler takes the audience through a dictionary he compiled as an awkward, shy and bullied 11 year old that was obsessed with words and afraid of his big brother. Along the way he explores the peculiarities of the English language, acronyms and political correctness, balancing it perfectly with immature jokes that had the most refined of us giggling like school kids at the back of the bus.

The beauty of Butler’s comedy lies in this dichotomy. One moment you will be raising your eyebrows and chortling over a clever wordplay that highlights topical issues and world history and culture, and the next you will be snorting into your drink over fantastically silly made-up words like “boobsafe”: the place a woman can store money and keys in her bra; “parratnoid”: a fear of being followed by parrots; and “aggreviation”: acronyms that just piss Mark off. The best things about these words are their origins – Mark actually thought them up in primary school – and their unique charm and creativity that can only be found coming from a young and lonely child.

Unfortunately, the highbrow humour can come off as a little snobbish and condescending at times; there was often a sense of “you’re intelligent if you got that one”. Whilst the stories of his youth were genuine and at times quite touching, the entire show had an extremely rehearsed air, and it was a little disappointing not to see Butler take a risk and improv now and then. If you’re shy, avoid the front row – Butler bounces off those he can see and may call upon an audience member for assistance.

But what really made this show for me was Butler’s genuine, sincere and obviously love and adoration of words. As a word lover myself I found myself drawn to the awkward 11-year-old Mark, and it was lovely to just sit and watch him do what he loved and share his obsession with a few lucky punters. Butler’s creativity and energy shone through any criticisms I could level, and I look forward to seeing what comes next from this logophile. (I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make my own little if-you-love-words-you’ll-get-that-one joke.)

Mark Butler: Words Swallower runs until 13 October at the Portland Hotel – Portland Room. Tickets are $20 full-price and $18 concession (group tickets are $17 per person for 6 people).

In its opening night, Neil Sinclair: Panic! filled the tiny back room of the Dancing Dog Café with belly laughs and hearty giggles as the charming Brit regaled the audience with tales from his Whitechapel flat during the 2011 London riots. Set in “The War Room” of his kitchen, Sinclair tells the story of he and his three flatmates’ attempt to stay safe and stay sane as looters ransacked their quiet suburban street.

Whilst obviously well versed in the comedy scene, the opening few minutes were itchy as Sinclair attempted to find his groove and gauge the audience. In these early stages, the just-a-little shy, just-a-little awkward comedian came across as a guy you would love to sit around and tell stories over a pint with, not stare at whilst he walks around the stage.
But as the dad jokes and ripping one-liners began to break the ice Sinclair began to really perform, and lo and behold, here is a truly talented and engaging performer. The props used were simple and effective, didn’t stretch the imagination too far, and were very cleverly utilized with very funny results.

There is something very meta about Sinclair’s humour; his show is peppered with self-reference. Whilst he is a vivid and talented storyteller, this attitude leaves the audience very aware that they are watching a performance, and there is a strong sense of detachment from the story – but this only adds to its charm. It did, however, backfire one or two times as jokes fell flat and the audience was left very aware of what had happened.

The humour is comfortable and easy to move with, but Sinclair is by no means afraid to toe the line. There were only a few occurrences of awkward, cringe-worth humour that only a few may find funny, and the lines did appear forced at times. For instance, beginning a show with a call and response song in order to set up jokes can be risky, and Sinclair struggled to pull it off comfortably. Nonetheless, the entire experience felt like a group of friends sitting around having a laugh.

Sinclair needs a big audience and I suspect he shall get one – this and a few other shows he is part of will continue throughout the festival and I dare say they will fill venues with people and energy. While he didn’t have me rolling on the floor he is a spirited and talented performer, good for viewing over a beer or as part of a crowd of thousands.

Neil Sinclair: Panic! runs until 13 October at The Dancing Dog. Tickets are $15 full-price and $10 concession (group tickets are $10 per person for 4 people).