That may be a tad harsh, as Propechy of the Quantum Child is certainly a very fun show – not necessarily attributable to the comedy, the songs or even the performance of the four protagonists. The saving grace of this performance is its genuine nature, the honesty with which these four men prance about on stage for your amusement, all the while fully aware that they look ridiculous.

The story takes you on a time-travelling expedition to save humanity from the terrors of a killer cyborg army and a ravenous doesn’t matter hole (much, much worse than a black hole, naturally), all the while filling the stage with bad puns, silly wordplay and a multitude of quick character and costume changes.

Whilst the boys’ style of cheesy prop jokes, purposely bad costumes and sets made of cardboard is certainly fun and refreshing, the whole production had a feeling of being stitched together with loose concepts and awkward scripting. The style that made their 2009 show such a success (full of spontaneity and silly, fun humour) has returned but without the spark that made their individual characters so likeable and generally endearing.

The musical talent of Vigelantelope is one key aspect that will amaze – from a touching duet of tribal man love to the incredible stylings of the dancing Dandy Lion, their lyrical stylings are certainly impressive. If you missed their brilliant performance last year, do try to catch them this time around – this is one comedy group that is not afraid to laugh at themselves (or their cheap props) and their mirth and silliness definitely rubs off on to their audience.

Strangely enough, given the title, this show is about bad words. Lots of them. There is ample warning if you are somewhat offended by naughtiness, and the audience participation element of yelling out your favourite curse word should be enough to send any meek participants into bright red mode (I was part of a ‘fuck’ audience, which reverberated around Trades Hall as it was bellowed by the full house).

Alexis manages to tread the line between informational overload and casual conversation with grace and ease, all the time swearing like a gutter monkey. It’s magnificent. He educates on the history of the potty mouth from ancient times through to the modern day, interspersed with stories and anecdotes from his own journey, all the while building to a very clear conclusion – that the art of language is fascinating, regardless of the words you use.

This show is actually quite light on the gags, and it’s a refreshing change. The traditional cymbal-roll jokes that Alexis has opted to avoid are instead replaced by his wit, charisma and enthusiasm for the subject. It doesn’t matter that every second line doesn’t have a punchline – he is obviously entertained by the process of teaching you about the magic of swearing, and it certainly rubs off.

I have never before learned so much while laughing out loud.

Vachel Spirason, Joel Tito, Pat Miller, Tim McDonald and Nick Russell from the Monash Law Revue Gold Alumni tell a pan-dimensional story of religion, history and silliness that is truly astonishing. Tale of the Golden Lease shows that regardless of budget, it is pure talent that will entertain, and these boys have it in spades.

This is an incredibly tight performance that overcomes every hurdle thrown at it. With a large number of scene changes, actors playing multiple characters and minimal props, the magical illusion of a continued story is never lost. The audience is continually spellbound by the antics of these rather manic, energetic and overwhelmingly entertaining performers. Lightening-quick scene changes ensure that boredom never sets in, and what they obviously lack in funding for props (the golden lease, holding the deed to earth’s future, is a phonebook badly wrapped in gold foil), they make up for in confidence and ability.

I really stuggle to find anything wrong with this performance – very few scripted jokes fell flat – with the exception of an inevitable law joke that went straight over my non-legal head. Combining very strong acting talents with no shred of shame enables these boys to keep the fourth wall of the theatre incredibly solid.

It is hard to avoid the feeling that, watching this performance, you are witnessing the birth of a new generation of comedic actors. Like the D-Generation or The Chaser, intelligent, informed talent has to start somewhere, and I predict we’ll be seeing much more of this crew in the future. Please, someone give them a TV show! If these five boys can produce a show so entertaining with little more than some devil horns, an oversized latte, black cloth and their awesomely tatty golden lease, just imagine what they could rise to.

All The Thoughts I’ve Had Since I Was Born is stand-up, plain and simple, and will appeal to all those punters who come to the festival for an experience that will excite, confuse and amuse them without stepping over any standard comfort levels. An impromptu start to the show with Watson appearing from within the audience should entertain those with a passion for pantomime, while Watson’s predictable audience banter feels more at home in a kids’ variety show, albeit with much filthier material.

It is very easy to be drawn into Watson’s somewhat bumbling, chaotic style. His stories and anecdotes shoot off into complete random tangents, each one getting him more excited than the last. His self-deprecating, self-reflexive and somewhat self-indulgent brain goes a million miles a minute, and gives you the impression of watching a monkey with ADHD undergoing electro-shock therapy.

Watson talks. A lot. In the few times he pauses for breath, a sigh of relief can be heard from the overwhelmed audience as their brains catch up with his manic speed. His delivery is spot-on every time, and his constant commentary on life is very sporadic, somewhat autistic but overall entertaining.

Watson delivers a performance that most people will like – it’s not theatrical, experimental, musical or overtly offensive. His over-the-top manic disposition will make most audiences feel they have really taken part in a ‘crazy’ show. Unfortunately, this comes at the detriment of any cohesiveness to his show, and you’ll most likely come away unable to remember a damn thing he has said. I’m sure it was funny, I do remember laughing, but what on earth about?

There are times when Kenneally’s material does require a certain amount of political, news and cultural knowledge, which could leave some audience members scratching their heads. But that’s not to say his whole show is above their heads – through his relaxed attitude and everyday references, he manages to make the most complicated of issues seem like a casual conversation in a bar. Kenneally’s heightened self-awareness really allows his sometimes bumbling nature to shine, allowing quick self-deprecating remarks to be off the cuff and responsive to his performance.

I must admit, though, I found Kenneally’s show all the more entertaining for a purely coincidental reason. His half an hour devoted to poking fun at the Greens (and party leader Bob Brown) was made all the more amusing when, after the show, I introduced myself: ‘Hey Matt, nice show – I’m here to review you for The Pun. I also work for Bob Brown.’ I’ve never seen someone so worried they had offended a public figure before. So Matt, don’t stress – I think Bob would agree with me that your delivery, material and political knowledge is top-notch.

Quick-witted, intelligent and informed, Kenneally has a very likeable (if somewhat nervous) stage presence that will appeal to everyone who hates the Herald Sun.

Although it set out to break the conventions of mainstream cinema, the Dogme95 movement began with its own set of rules. The Vow of Chastity written in 1995 by Lars Von Trier and Vineberg listed 10 commandments that any Dogma film had to stick to: ‘A Dogma film couldn’t use any props or sets, fixed cameras (only handheld camera), special effects (whether audio or visual), and, above all else, couldn’t conform to any existing film genre.’ A movement more akin to the historical significance of Film Noir, in that there are a specific few films allowed to be classified as Dogme95. The whole thing was over before it started, and the world calmed down.

Now we all have a reason to get excited again about the Scandinavian country renown for legalised drugs, schnapps and the second largest rock concert in the world. This year’s Denmark Nu section gives us the latest work from Nicolas Winding Rein, whose unashamed Pusher I, II & III trilogy is only upstaged by the documentary on his painful journey to produce the Pusher sequels.

Country specific cinema can sometimes go awry, creating stereotypes difficult to avoid, but the latest offerings coming out of Denmark are making waves. Denmark Nu is the new Denmark, and it’s worth a long look.

Cut to a few decades later; the families have moved out, the community has fallen apart without government support and the houses are abandoned and dilapidated. The swimming pools are filled with a thick layer of sludge and slime, until a bunch of skaters jump the fence, scoop it out, scrub it down, dry it out and transform a pool into a personal skate bowl.

Film-makers Coan ‘Buddy’ Nichols and Rick Charnoski document moments like this with a powerful, personal feeling that is rarely seen in 8mm documentary, let alone one about skateboarding. Whilst the material in their films is incredibly interesting, you could be made to watch a 20′minute flick about the life of an acacia tree and they could make it fascinating. The collection includes their earlier skateboard based work Fruits of the Vine, but also has some less-known gems that shine out. A 10-minute short composed entirely from shots taken out the window of aircraft is eerily beautiful in its simplicity.

You’re left feeling like you’ve been privy to personal secret memories and they’re truly amazing cinematic experiences.

Narrated by the star, ‘X”a high-class rent boy with emotional engagement issues’Boy Culture follows his attempts at love with flatmate Andrew, a CK-hot black guy. At the same time he is taking on a new client, Gregory’an 80-something professor eager to touch love one last time. The problem is X has been doing tricks for so long, he has lost the ability to have sex without money being involved. His well defined list of 12 clients (or ‘disciples’) have allowed him to afford the lifestyle he likes, and now the possibility of giving it up for love is tearing him apart.

There are some hilarious side characters in this film, including ‘Blowey’ Joey, a cute effeminate 18-year-old who plays son to X and Andrew’s tumultuous relationship. The lines are quick, slightly corny but right on queue and well delivered. The photography is amazingly sharp and fun (Whilst not surprising in queer cinema, it’s not always a certainty.). However, the shining point has to be the dialogue between X and the ageing Gregory, as the differences and similarities between differing generations of queers are allowed to bleed to the surface.

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Ranging from Mozart to John Williams, Score Reloaded is basically a war on music, performed live on stage in front of hundreds. The involvement of so many budding musicians like Vij is refreshing to see amidst the International and Australian comedians that crowd stages throughout the festival. With Score Reloaded being a one-off gig, rehearsals are incredibly important to all those involved. ‘We’ve been practicing every Saturday, and it’s been going great so far,’ says Vij, who is looking forward to the eventual performance. ‘It’s great to work alongside comedians rather than musicians for a change.’

It all makes for an out of the ordinary performance. ‘There are some weird things going on in this performance’ says Vij, ‘mostly involving a vacuum cleaner and some hoses.’ This is definitely an all-ages show for the whole family, with a touch of the bizarre that’s sure to entertain.

He loves music. That seems to be the basis for the Comedy Festival show Andrew McClelland’s Mix Tape. No philosophical meaning, no in-depth analysis or long-winded story about a bad experience with a tape deck. It’s a refreshing thought; McClelland is just passionate about his music, and wanted to find a way to tell his audience exactly what it is that makes the perfect mix tape. ‘Usually I find a topic that I’m interested in as an excuse to research it. It’s the research I love.’ Looking back over McClelland’s past shows involving secret societies and pirates, it’s easy to see the love he pours into his topics.

When I spoke to McClelland he was busy in preparation for his show, stressing out and rereading scripts. ‘I stress naturally, its just part of my routine.’ But this disappears once he takes the stage, being replaced with a powerful enthusiasm that ripples through the audience.

You might not have seen McClelland’s show yet, but you’ll have certainly seen him on a dance floor around Melbourne. A regular DJ at venues such as Weekender, McClelland is a regular deck-spinner at Umbrella Revolution during the Festival, and apologises to anyone he may have accidentally fly-kicked at a Lucksmiths gig.

In his own (rather made up) words, McClelland is bang-passionate about comedy, particularly the close-knit world that it creates. He is quick to point out his best tips for other shows in the Festival, including Lawrence Leung in The Adventures of Puzzle Boy, Courteney Hocking’s Foolish Ideas and Crackpot Inventions Show, Christine Adams: Alive in Madagascar and Jo Randerson’s Skazzle Dazzle. Hopefully he’ll stress less about his own show long enough to sit down and have a listen to his own mix tape.

From his early days in a duo act called the ‘Bunta Boys’ in Adelaide’s close-knit comedy world, Justin Hamilton has learned the ups and downs of the trade, eventually honing his skills to the self-sustaining position of full-time comic. It’s a luxury that Hamilton finds weird within the Australian scene; every UK comic he speaks to is amazed that Aussie comedians have to hold down a second job to pay the rent. Ours is not a large industry, and Hamilton is very happy that he has managed to make it pay without the need to take on roles that would take his focus away from being paid to be funny.

Without a doubt, Hamilton’s passion for comedy comes from the people around him. He is quick to reference the influences, peers and colleagues that are so important to him, for both social and working relationships. Wil Anderson, Tom Gleeson and Lehmo are just a few of the fellow comics he lists as integral to the development of his skills, and it is this community that drives his continued involvement in comedy as a whole. Incredibly generous to others in the industry, from young writers to up-and-coming comedians, Hamilton is keen to respect and foster the need for shared support in a struggling craft.

With his roots firmly placed in Adelaide, Hamilton started off on an ambitious project, directing the inaugural Adelaide Comedy Festival. The festival was a success on many levels, but Hamilton is not sure about its direction after many setbacks, including one comic who slept through a 6:15pm set. Whilst he can’t say what will happen to the festival in the future, it is clear that he is happy to settle in Melbourne for a while, with a few trips home to see Mum.

Leaving triple j behind for the permanent stand-up role seems to have cheered Hamilton’s spirits to biblical proportions. He now has his sights set on bigger and better things, including a children’s book and a truly inspiring idea for the 2007 Melbourne International Comedy Festival that, if it works, will be groundbreaking. If not, we just might see the back of Hamilton as he scuttles off back to Adelaide for the last time, and that would definitely be a shame for the rest of us.

Quite obviously aimed at an audience of children, the show is also highly entertaining for adults. Especially enjoyable is watching the front row squirm and shriek as they are covered in eggs, flour and other food explosions (Aprons are supplied, but not required.)

Shore has the ultimate history in stand-up comedy; his father was comedian Sammy Shore, and his mother Mitzi owned the world famous Comedy Club in Los Angeles. Literally from birth, Shore was surrounded by the creme de la creme of comedic performers, and it seems that at least some of this has rubbed off on him after 30 years.

His style of comedy can only be described as offensive. Really offensive. It’s clear that Shore is open to any topic, regardless of taboo. From his in-depth instructional section on giving a good blow job to his rather candid opinions on child porn, Shore is a master at shock tactics, disgusting his audience whilst simultaneously keeping them on the edge of their seats.

For someone who has fallen from the height of popularity within Generation Y, Shore has a great humility and understanding of his position. Quick to take a self-reflexive stab at his former career, he uses his accomplishments and failures to his advantage, with some great material and an absolutely first-rate performance.

With great delivery, offensive substance with slightly too much emphasis on sex, Shore entertains like a creepy uncle that goes too far. You want to laugh at him, but you’re also worried about what that makes you.

Sun was the 2004 Raw Comedy winner, and it’s clear that in the two years that he’s had to refine his style, he’s been hard at work doing just that. His set is tight and, overall, a truly entertaining hour.

Although his profile isn’t enough to warrant a room larger than the Wee Room (a closet at the tip of the Town Hall barely big enough to swing a small rodent), Sun didn’t let this impinge on his performance, keeping the jokes coming hard and fast even through some questionably offensive material. No matter, at least it was amusing: particularly the shocked looks around the audience as he went a little too far, and his own subsequent giggling. It’s clear he really enjoys what he’s doing, and it’s truly great to see.

Sun has a very pub-comic style, with clearly scripted material blending seamlessly into a clean delivery and personable attitude. Touching on everything and nothing, Sun has a great show this year, and it can only get better from here. Best finale ever.

Leung is a grown up version of Data from The Goonies, complete with cute, geeky clothes and an obsession with gadgets and puzzles. So much so, in fact, that his childhood puzzles form the basic of his Comedy Festival show Lawrence Leung: The Marvellous Misadventures of Puzzle Boy.

In an attempt to understand his own recently discovered suitcase full of adolescent love letters, Leung takes his audience back to his childhood days, filled with hours of frustration at solving puzzles, impressing girls and misspelt confessions of adoration. Leung’s style feels more like an intimate conversation at a small party; you get the impression he’s telling you a personal secret rather than a rehearsed performance, and it makes for a good feeling.

Complete with a truly unbelievable (or possibly extremely deceptive) dexterous finale, Leung entertains in a personal, bubbly and mischievous manner, and you get the feeling that he’s just as excited as his audience at regaling the public about his somewhat embarrassing childhood love escapades. Try and be there on the night he finally gets reunited with his long lost first love of 1983.

Old silent films were originally made to be performed with live orchestras, or in the case of remote towns, an old man on a broken piano. That groups like The Ang Fang Quartet are still out there continuing this tradition is a wonderful thing to behold. They weave modern classics into the narrative of Chaplin’s movie, including ‘Riders on the storm’ at the outbreak of a nasty storm, and their polka version of ‘Stayin’ Alive’ had me giggling uncontrollably.

Complete with cartoon sound effects such as duck calls and drum rolls, this is a highly entertaining alternative to the usual stand-up. If you’re up for something different, and dread ‘audience participation’, then sit back and take in a movie with a difference.

Monica Dullard presents Mon’s Comedy Cooker is a combination of comedy characterisation, food and entertainment all rolled into one caravan set up on the grounds of City Square for the duration of the festival. Sounds like a stunt? Well, maybe that assumption would be right, but the food is actually really good. The baklava is delicious, the Iraqi pie is politically correct AND tasty, and I have it on good record that the lamb pizza kicks arse.

Mon and a regularly rotating list of comedians man the food station every night, combining their culinary and comedic skills to keep the public happy and fed. If you can’t get tickets to that big International, ask Mon if they’ll be doing a spot at the Cooker, and you could book yourself in for a free, personal performance. Or just grab a seat and enjoy watching people be caught unawares as they get their midnight snack from a comic caravan. It’s a perfect solution to two of Melbourne’s biggest problems: sad people and the hungry.

It’s clear from Moran’s delivery that he’s far more talented behind the typewriter, writing and rewriting scripts, than in front of a microphone. His material is without a doubt very funny, but his delivery seemed slightly off and really needed to be tightened up. It’s a problem that seems to have a common thread – large venues. Stand-up comics that work in an intimate style are lost on the massive stages of the Melbourne Town Hall and the Athenaeum Theatre, and Moran really deserved a darker, smaller room for his mannerisms to work.

That said, he definitely had the audience in the palm of his hand, throwing out slightly offensive comments left, right and centre. In true Irish fashion, his nature is not one of a purely insulting egomaniac; rather, it is one of a lyrical, foppish, self-deprecating intellectual. His material is great, and it seems his character of Bernard on ‘Black Books’ could be an extremely close equivalent to his own tortured personality. If you loved the TV series, be warned that Dylan Moran Live lacks the snappiness of delivery. If you haven’t, you’ll love him.

At the request of his psychoanalyst Dr Earnest Parrot, Martin takes us through five random moments in his life, in an effort to cure a rare but lethal psycho-emotional condition that threatens to take over his whole existence. It’s scary stuff alright. Combining a rather cute projection presentation with stand-up, guitar, piano and harmonica, Martin is brilliant as the multi-performer, entertainer extraordinaire.

Overall, Dr Earnest Parrot Presents Demetri Martin is a rather weird performance. Whilst Martin’s delivery is snappy and on cue, he seems to rely too heavily on Monty Pythonesque groan punchlines. This can get somewhat annoying, once you’ve worked out the formula and can see the joke coming; however, this is offset by his amazing ability to manipulate the audience in a way that is reminiscent of a child’s performance in front of doting family members: every eye is pinned on his smallest movement, searching for the quick in-joke or offhand comment, and praise is lavished on him after every pause. It makes for a magical performance, but he really needs to add some personality.