Coming from a background in radio and appearances on ABC shows like Spicks and Specks, Adam Rozenbachs has perhaps arrived in Perth with a predetermined audience in mind.

Upon taking the stage, the comic almost immediately launches into an anecdote about a wedding he attended along with a swathe of well-known Australian TV funnymen – Mick Molloy, Adam Hills, Wil Anderson, Dave Hughes. The awkward name-dropping comes off as an attempt to reassure us that he is part of a certain comedy canon.

Australian he most definitely is, but Rozie’s larrikin humour lacks the trademark Hughesy deadpan or Wil Anderson cockiness. Instead, his angry man routine feels a little too easy. There is the requisite Tindr joke, the cutting observation that “cafes these days are too wanky,” and a story about a Thail holiday gone awry. While his set solicits some genuine laughter from the audience, and includes some fun impromptu banter with the women sitting in the front row, the gags here are far from risky.

This is safe and cheerful morning radio style humour. Rozenbachs performed for a packed house, and his audience knows what they’re in for. For aficionados of cheeky bloke comedy and die-hard Spicks and Specks fans, there’s this guy. For everyone else, there’s the rest of the Fringe World Festival.

It’s Not Me, It’s Youz runs until Sunday the 15th of February. You can find tickets via the Fringe World Guide here.

If I wasn’t such a huge fan of dessert and food in general, the many laboured references to pastry and cake that pervaded Wake and Bake might have begun to irritate me. As it was, they just made me a bit hungry. This short and undeniably sweet-toothed play from local university students Jackson Used and Ben Thomas was charming and funny. I hold the actors responsible for a few belly laughs, as well as for the kebab I purchased hurriedly afterwards to satisfy my stomach pangs.

In one fast-paced act laced with swift, well-delivered dialogue, Wake and Bake depicts the aftermath of a family wake. Three siblings sit down together and seek to confront the loss of their father over dinner and, you guessed it, home-baked dessert. Through a haze of grief and resentment, much awkwardness ensues.

For a play about death, Wake and Bake doesn’t spend much time grieving. This isn’t dark comedy – lose the first word. While it might pay for the cast to linger a little more on emotional details, in refusing to dip below the surface they perhaps portray the relationship between mourning and denial rather accurately. Funeral humour is well-trod ground, but this production mixes the ingredients up just the right amount – and whisks in a few eggs.

Wake and Bake runs until Thursday February 19. You can find tickets via the Fringe World guide here.

Deville’s Pad, Perth’s cult classic hell-themed nightclub, is already more than a little glittery. With the addition of Cougar Morrison, it sparkles to the point of excess.

Greeting his audience bedecked in tulle and feathers, Cougar’s immediate attempts at glitzy sass and bitterness (much of the cabaret turns on a musical recounting of his unlucky love life) are offset by the singer’s surprisingly delicate features and apparent shyness onstage.

Cougar is self-admittedly skinny and “odd looking”, and to counter this he is backed by two somewhat beefier back up dancers who make full use of the Deville’s go-go cages. His insecurities play well – much like his heroine Edith Piaf, whose trademark warble he emulates with strength, Cougar makes up for a physical diminutiveness with some very impressive pipes.

The show opens with a number from The Triplets of Belleville, and despite visual references to Beyonce and the inevitable tribute to Miley Cyrus (a touchstone for cabaret artists at Fringeworld this year), you might interpret the whole performance as an earnest tribute to the French pantomime tradition. There are certainly moments of Baptiste Deburau, if Baptiste had a penchant for Flo Rida and Wham!, and greeted his audiences with an enthusiastic “Bonsoir, bitches!”

Originating from the sequinned opulence of New Orleans, Cougar Morrison seeks to bedazzle, but maintains an intriguing undercurrent of sadness and vulnerability throughout. There is plenty of fun to be had here, yet the best moments are not comedic, but confessional.

Cougar Morrison has two remaining shows, on the nights of Friday the 6th and Saturday the 7th of February. You can find tickets via the Fringe guide here.