The setting for ghost stories was perfect: rain pelted down from a dark sky, a wind shivered into our spines, the expectations of the tour was high  - but unfortunately they would not be met. Melbourne is a city with an interesting history, with some stories of gore suitable for an Underbelly episode, but its supernatural presence depicted in this tour was far from Paranormal Activity.

The tour group was comprised of mostly ghost believers from age 12 and up who listened in awe as the tour guide Johnny told us of the old fisherman’s ghost on Platform 7 at Flinders Street Station, the tale of the tragic end of the beautiful Chloe and of prostitutes from the early 1900s who haunted rooms on Bourke Street. There was mention of ghost hunters and orbs captured in photographs; we were encouraged to take photos in a believed haunted spot. Although Johnny did tell the stories in a serious manner they often ended with him cracking jokes. It was obvious he was more of a cynic; there was more laughter on the tour than any sense of horror or fear.

The group were led through alleyways and backstreets in Melbourne’s CBD to create a more intimate setting, but the city’s drunken crowds (it was a Saturday night), trams and traffic would at times drown out Johnny’s stories, and in turn, probably scared away any ghosts. It did feel more like a walking history lesson than a fun night out. The tour did, however, strip away some of the glamour of modern Melbourne as Johnny reminded us of the realities of luxuries we take for granted – like our sewers.

Overall, the Old Melbourne Ghost Tour was far from a paranormal adventure, and ended as a mediocre night of history – with that said, this is definitely suitable for families looking for something educational. (Remember to wear comfortable shoes. There’s a lot of walking.)

The Old Melbourne Ghost Tour has now finished its run as part of the Melbourne Fringe but continues to run tours at various times throughout the year. Check out their website for more information.

At the peak of the Black Plague Dr Rapere, or the Plague Doctor as he soon becomes known, begins his “experiments” to discover the truth behind the plague. Fascinated with rats and guided by the seven archangels, Rapere’s decisions are both disturbing and cringe-worthy. His hallucinations soon lead him down a path filled with murder, revenge and disease.

The second the lights go down, audience members are entranced by the lonely figure on stage, who is dressed in an elaborate costume and painfully struggles with each and every breath. Armed with a walking stick he props himself up and begins the terrible story of Dr Marrok Corvus Rapere.

Starting off with the history of the Black Plague in 1348, the narrator depicts a perfect scene of London during that dreadful time. The story quickly shifts to a horrific story of murder (or should I say murders) and the killings are so graphic they make Dexter look like child’s play.

Due to the vivid descriptions of the script your brain is sent into imaginary overload, and as a result this isn’t a show to simply switch off and enjoy.

While the first half of the show is impressive and thoroughly mesmerising, not much happens beyond this point. The script, still unfalteringly amazing and loaded with macabre poetry, is something that should be praised to no end. However, the sound effects become mind-numbing and repetitive and Dr Marrok’s end is predictable.

In saying this, however, the acting exhibited by Alphonse Cheese-Probert is faultless and if the show was just 30 minutes shorter (instead of coming in at a lengthy 90 minutes) then it would easily keep its momentum.

Considering the main aim of The Laudanum Project is to educate and cause discomfort, Ballad of The Plague Doctor has accomplished this, and with their grim and gruesome story audience members will be left disturbed for days.

Ballad of the Plague Doctor has finished its run at the Fringe Festival.

With a title showcasing the names ‘Butt Boy’ and ‘Tigger’, one expects a bundle of laughs,and while the show effectively succeeds in inciting side-splitting belly laughs, the play’s main drawcard is its stirring premise brought to life through a brilliantly written script and beautiful acting. With rave reviews and sell-out seasons in Edinburgh, Dublin, Manchester and Sydney, The Adventures of Butt Boy and Tigger is the brainchild of Out Cast Theatre, the oldest Australian theatre collective with works pertinent to the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender communities.

Young, vulnerable and untainted by the rigours of love, Butt Boy ventures online one day to chance upon Tigger – an older man with more sexual know-how but a cynical disposition acquired from his negative encounters with one too many men. Somehow hitting it off despite their vastly dissimilar approaches to life and love, Butt Boy and Tigger start to meet online every week like clockwork for chat sessions that nearly always lead into cyber sex.

The audience cruises along with Butt Boy and Tigger and becomes invested in their journeys as the two characters embark on scintillating sexual escapades – borne entirely out of the depths of their imagination – and engage in plenty of dirty talk without divulging too much about their actual selves. Nothing is sacrosanct when it comes to the creation of these fantasies as the two characters interchange roles, adopt accents, catapult to the past or stay rooted in the present, assume false names and envisage every possible scenario or venue to keep the fantasies as interesting as possible.

Although the play kicks off in a light-hearted and rambunctious manner, it veers into an emotional battleground when Butt Boy tentatively brings up the possibility of the two meeting up face-to-face.

The dichotomy between the two vastly divergent characters makes for an immensely interesting and entertaining performance as the two actors play off their obvious shared chemistry to breathe life into Butt Boy and Tigger. One minute bound to their keyboards, the next leaping into the centre of the fold to act out each conceived sexual fantasy, the demonstrations retain an endearing quality and are thoroughly enjoyable to watch. The entire time, no clothes are ever shed and humour is effectively used as a plot device.

The use of minimal props – save for two chairs and two keyboards – ensure the two actors are the focal point as they fully utilise the stage space accorded to them to depict instances of both exhilaration and despair. But the play’s real strength lies in the seamless way in which it moves from overtly funny scenes, to sexually-charged moments, to deeply introspective instances where the two are forced to ponder what it is exactly they want from their relationship with one another.

As the tension builds and the audience’s emotions swing back and forth like a pendulum, the play culminates in a moving finale – heart-rending enough to incite a floodgate of tears.

A rollercoaster of emotions with the pervading themes of love, fear of judgement and the eradication of barriers in this cyber day and age, The Adventures of Butt Boy and Tigger strikes a chord and leaves the audience whirling from what they just bore witness to – long after the final curtain call.

Adventures of Butt Boy and Tigger ran until October 13 as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival but is still showing at the Mechanics Institute Performing Arts Centre until October 20. Tickets are $20 full price and $16 concession.

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.

What makes people become racist? Is it ok to be a little bit racist? And are penguin analogies the answer to solving world racism? Xavier Toby, general nice guy, seems to think so and uses puns and one-liners to back up his opinions and research on evolution.

Standing in front of the Lithuanian Club audience, Toby is part comedian, part preacher, who is genuinely concerned about some Australians’ attitudes towards race. Toby uses his two groups of friends to generalise the everyday Australian, coming to the conclusion that Australians are either racist bogans or anti-racist hipsters who can’t take a joke – two extreme groups that are only united by their love for IKEA and tattoos.

White Trash is thought-provoking, especially regarding the media’s use of hyperbole when reporting asylum seekers and other current affairs, but some of Toby’s arguments against racism can become ranty, often with a cheap joke tacked to the end for a quick laugh, or lead off into unrelated tangents.

The uncertainty in White Trash is with Toby himself. He doesn’t seem comfortable in his comedy persona, and it’s hard to pin-point who he aims to be; at 35 years of age Toby seems unsure whether he is the swearing, smutty young bloke or a dork with Dad-like humour. There is an obvious conflict between the two, almost like there are two different comedians on stage -yet it is Toby’s goofy character which comes through to the audience as more honest and funny. The audience can relate to the self-confessed jasmine tea lover, a single man who loves kids and has a passion for standing up for penguins.

Toby’s take on racism is intelligent but the balance between the information and humour was a bit skewiff. Overall, it is a great show to test your racist mates’ beliefs at and chat about later at the pub.

Xavier Toby – White Trash has finished its run at the Fringe Festival. More information on Xavier Toby’s future projects can be found on his website.

Mitch Jones, who plays Captain Ruin, isn’t your average stage performer. It could be said that he is a troubled lad – or maybe it’s just that trouble has a way of finding him. After being jailed numerous times, one being a not-so-pleasant bout in a Turkish prison, Mitch Jones is a novelist’s dream.

One Night Stand is an ode to his time in prison and instead of focusing on the confinement, Mitch has focused on that wonderful moment of freedom, and he does so through an enlightening and humorous monologue.

The show starts from the moment we’re ushered in, as an angry prison warden rudely flashes a torchlight in our eyes and sternly directs us to our seats. A pandemonium of music, talking and static echo through the small room and Captain Ruin is thrown aggressively onto the stage (or, unfortunately for him, his prison cell. His suitcase is soon to follow his path, and holds the contents of the night’s entertainment.

Circus tricks, dancing and comedy are weaved in seamlessly to the shows script and as a result the audience are constantly challenged for different reactions. At one moment the audience may be in a fit of laughter and the next will be appreciating the wise words of Captain Ruin. The show doesn’t only serve as entertainment and could even be said to be educational, if learning about anarchy and Smith & Wesson handcuffs is up your alley.

At times you begin to question Captain Ruin’s sanity, as he plays with fire and lets loose a manic (and worrying) laugh, but soon you become to realise that this is just the emotional process of being locked in a cell that only measures six by four metres.

Throughout the show Mitch Jones has the doors to his life not just open, but snapped off at the hinges and never to be seen again. In one skit Mitch tells the tale of his life via his assortment of tattoos; unsurprisingly, this skit soon turns into something reminiscent of a scene in The Full Monty.

Leaving the show you can’t help but have a grander appreciation for freedom and it’s almost as if your zest for life has been heightened, all thanks to Captain Ruin. In only 60 minutes One Night Stand manages to make you experience a handful of emotions, question what it means to be free – and know the importance of carrying a safety pin.

One Night Stand has finished its run at the Fringe Festival. For more information on Captain Ruin’s future projects, visit his website.

Another New Zealander infiltrating Melbourne’s Fringe this year is mentalist Robert Haley. Haley combines a mix of magic tricks and psychological tactics to successfully impress an eagle-eyed audience. Putting this trickery into a narrative so as to give the show a sense of purpose, Haley assumes the character of a fabled elixir salesman, demonstrating his magical concoctions on his awestruck customers-to-be and showing off the magical powers they can gain from just one teaspoon – from x-ray powers to a rendezvous with Lady Luck.

The show is extremely interactive. Each of the elixirs needs a test subject, and of course, Haley picks his subjects from the crowd. Because of the intimacy of the show, no one is safe from being called up for a demonstration. While the wallflowers among us may quiver at the thought, the interactions actually had a very positive influence on the show. There was a real sense of camaraderie between the audience members. Jokes were thrown not just between performer and subjects, but among the subjects themselves.

Haley’s mentalist deceptions are genuinely impressive; his successfully guessing which word an audience member is thinking of without receiving even the tiniest of hints is one of those things that will forever haunt me. And Haley is a likeable showman – his improvised interactions with a chatty crowd were some of the funniest moments of the act. However, there was a weakness when it came back to the scripted anecdotes between trickery and banter.

Before introducing each new elixir, Haley would tell us the story behind how and where this particular potion came from. While he has charisma, Haley is not an actor. I can appreciate that each trick had to be placed within a narrative, but the delivery of these tales just wasn’t natural. It was all too obvious Haley was simply recalling almost-forgotten lines, which regrettably took me out of the stories at times. The performance was at its strongest when it called for improvisation, and it was a shame there weren’t more of those sincere moments. But Haley has an endearing quality that is rare for a magic man, and his damn impressive elixirs managed to redeem any shortcomings of their biographies.

Mentalist Robert Haley: Elixir has finished its run at the Fringe Festival. For more information on Robert Haley’s future projects, visit his website.

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.

On the left of the stage is a raffle wheel, the type you find in an RSL, which has been redecorated to fit 16 categories ranging from ‘MGF’ and ‘Song’ to ‘Crazy Fans’ and ‘Toast’. On the right of stage is a keyboard and microphone. Between them stands Pinky Beecroft.

Beecroft most notably fronted Machine Gun Fellatio, one of his many “disastrously named” bands who were “more interested in rock ‘n’ roll but better at sex and drugs”. He is dressed in jeans and a suit jacket. He’s propped up by a cane and he routinely breaks eye contact with the audience in favour of the floor.

We learn early on that he is suffering from two incurable diseases. He never identifies what they are, but he frames the situation thusly: “In terms of personal life stuff it’s kind of shit, but in terms of comedy it’s gold.” He says after a trip to the Melbourne Comedy Festival his friend called his bluff on an off-the-cuff remark that he could be a stand up. That conversation has led to this show.

Beecroft, or an audience member in the front row, spins the wheel and when it stops on a category a Pinky tale begins. That is the format for tonight’s performance – a bold format indeed, as this is his debut stand up show and he isn’t working off a script.

This format succeeds for two reasons: firstly, he is an exceptional storyteller; secondly, he has exceptional stories. Anyone who remembers his appearances on ABC’s The Glass House, or his lyrics with MGF, knows that there is nothing conventional about his worldview or delivery. His more perverted or depraved stories become endearing, delivered as if the stories are playing out for the first time as he recalls them.

He frequently goes off on tangents; for example, a story about a New Year’s Eve performance in Byron Bay ends with a cyclone in WA, by way of Serena Williams in North Korea, nanotechnology, and crying during the romantic comedy Wimbledon. (The drug-induced Beecroft was utterly bemused by the fact Kirsten Dunst is such a talented tennis player.)

His anecdotes routinely feature drugs, sex, and bizarre attire. We are treated to one song, composed for a friend explaining the merits of spooning your loved one with a “soft cock” on a Sunday. “I’ll send that to Kingsmill,” he says. “He won’t know what to do with it.”

At one point during the song he sings about nuts and anchovies – breaking from the lyrics, he admits he has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. At some points during the night I don’t either, but it’s still very enjoyable.

Beecroft’s life is the type an audience loves to hear about but probably wouldn’t want to live. As the show ends, Pinky, aided by his cane, opens the door for us to leave and thanks everyone for coming out.

In terms of his personal life things might be kind of shit, but in terms of comedy it’s gold.

Pinky Beecroft: Mainstream Freak has finished its run at the Fringe Festival. For more information on Pinky Beecroft’s newest project, The White Russians, visit the band’s website.