There’s no denying Francisco is a talented mimic (he’s an internet viral sensation for his near perfect impressions of Don LaFontaine, the movie trailer voice) and much of his show is sound effects and voice work, but some of his impressions just don’t hit the mark and his jokes all feel haphazard and somewhat incomplete.

He’s relentless with the strip club/porn star/humping topics, makes outrageous actions on stage and apparent habits include ruining people’s karaoke by squawking. The only part of the show I found moderately amusing was his ‘hand jokes’ at the very end – new material he’d scribbled on his palm during the show. The rest of his set, I found juvenile, disjointed, repetitive and tiresome. If I hadn’t needed to review it, I would have walked out.

Kilstein dissects the racism, sexism and homophobia prevalent in today’s society and tackles religion, politics and war; big, unfunny issues with unrelenting ease, somehow still providing a laugh a minute. My festival favourite so far, the New Yorker blew me out of the water, possessing an open mindedness and pragmatism I only aspire to have, a knack for making his audience take offence, not at him but at the various groups he targets, and thoughtful commentary on taking responsibility for yourself and credit for creating your own destiny, without blind reasoning and faith in divine intervention.

Kilstein’s show is incredible. He has a dynamic storytelling style and a stage presence to write home about. He exemplifies the hypocrisy and bigotry he detests with hilarious statements like “I can say that because I died in the September 11 attacks”. He speaks of religious deficiencies, angry encounters and hateful messages he’s received inciting as much shock as laughter in his audience. Tales of how he met his girlfriend, the awful pictures his brother sends to his inbox and a plug for his radio show Drunken Politics lend a human quality. An admission to being leftwing and liberal still sees him pooh-poohing Obama fanatacism while he pokes fun at Sarah Palin and shows irritation at the forgiving ‘old man card’ the media gave John McCain.

Impeccably crafted, his show ends on an impassioned note with a letter he wrote to the US Army earning him mad applause that didn’t stop once he’d left the room. Engaging, insightful and nothing short of brilliant.

The show’s title Loquacious, meaning ‘talkative’, suits the British comedian perfectly. Coppin is a natural conversationalist and his show involves a great deal of audience interaction and banter as well as tidbits about himself, animals and superheroes, sports teams and class systems, places and politicians – a melange of informative insights, observational comedy and personal experience.

He has bounding energy and a garrulous, anecdotal style – making jokes about feeling like an underachiever of mixed heritage, wearing his ‘Spidey’ hoodie and sharing his love for Spiderman, criticising his ‘easy to pair’ socks and the definition of ‘dictionary’ in the dictionary. There doesn’t seem to be a need to string the topics together with a certain theme, he seamlessly moves from one to another without losing the audience’s attention, and without it being awkward and disjointed.

The amount of localised content in his show is quite admirable. A frequent visitor to Australia, his knowledge of the country is vast and he professes a liking for Melbourne, a fear of Adelaide and a love for Queensland, narrating his amusing experiences in each region and chatting with punters who relate theirs.

A funny, frenetic hour with no boring moments, Nik Coppin displays an immense agreeability and exhilarating lack of cynicism, he’s as charming and endearing as he is gobby.

On stage, Millican is spontaneous and upbeat. There’s a bit of general comic banter where she quizzes the audience on their own personal endeavours and sexual experiences, but where she truly shines is in her cleverly constructed gags. She is able to deliver punchline upon punchline in a timely fashion.

Millican’s lack of sentimentality and her hearty laugh ultimately make her more likeable than not. She’s filthy and funny throughout, and at the end of the hour she explains the double entendre in the show’s title, even giving the audience receiving free badges with the words so it’s impossible to forget.

Millican is an impressive newcomer, one I forecast we’ll be seeing plenty more of.