I had grave concerns about any comedic endeavour involving Eastern Europe because Sasha Cohen’s Borat is still firmly etched on my retinas. Especially a comedic endeavour in cabaret. But Benn Bennett pulls it off. His hour-long show at the Butterfly Club in South Melbourne had all us pundits laughing.

This is the first time Bennett has performed at the festival in a one-man show. His stony facial gestures as he moves through such delights as Push It, Boy in Yalta, Man from Prague, to the discordant twang of ‘bad’ guitar-based keyboard, punctuated by the heady atmosphere created from a single, badly-lit disco ball, only adds to his theme and comedic effect.

Not every comedian can threaten acts of violence’with balls’against Cinderella whilst dressed in a red headband. Bennett’s wardrobe choice creates an impoverished John McEnroe feel. Hearing Babushkas described as stinky will stay with pundits. In fact, you’ll never quite look at a whale, a Lada Nikki or coleslaw the same.

Some of his frames of reference were lost on the crowd, but Eric from Poland’s Elvis impersonation, singing Jail House Rock, generated belly laughs from all. Structurally, it was the high point of the show and would have been a great way to end. But no. Bennett leaves us with the imaging of a disturbing Rosary blessing. Don’t worry, Benn. I’m sure there’s a specialist cabbage that could cure that.