The charm in Sandz and Hopper is the interplay between the stars. Lou Sanz, with her reserved and downcast demeanour, is in many ways the antithesis of Hooper’s energetic, goggle-eyed capers. Sanz anchors this piece firmly with her dry, sly wit and subtle expressiveness, while Hooper, for her part, happily indulges in her physicality – all gangling legs and puppy-dog eyes. That a show based on the tension and awkwardness between two performers is so enjoyable – there are moments when that tension seems very real – is testament to the skill on show here. Between the two there are some clever moments of quick-fire wordplay, and – as odd as it sounds – some of the best moments of hilarious silence I’ve yet seen. The sketches themselves draw laughs from the flimsiest premises – I don’t think I’ve ever been as delighted by a cardboard box as I was in the first sketch. There’s some ‘tits-and-bums’ gags here, but sly and wicked ones rather than crude sexual humour – the interplay between two attractive women on stage is fodder for some of the show’s best moments.

The 10:45 PM timeslot of The Sandz and Hopper Show leaves it to the most dedicated of Comedy Festival audiences, which is a shame – Lou Sanz and Claire Hooper could easily shift the show to a larger venue without losing the cheeky, intimate feel. While the content of the sketches is slight, the humour is rich and you get the feeling that these talented women could easily shift this lovable show to TV with ease.

Muiznieks’ show is built around a political lecture about the class struggle. She has a boardful of cartoons outlining the problems of the world. It may sound a bit ‘Rod Quantock’ but it certainly isn’t. It’s not even a tirade really – it’s an excuse for the songs which are the strength of the show.

Her band (Roland on piano and Emma the multi-instrumentalist) plays the overture till Karin, in gold lame shawl, busts in singing an opener which she promptly pronounces ‘a shit song anyway.’ She’s got bigger things in mind; she’s here to change the world because to parody Randy Newman – and she does – It’s Lousy at the Bottom.

Karin’s songs are great: wicked, witty, tight and tuneful, covering a variety of genres and topics. Her piece d’amusement is her musical reminiscence of a jealous girlfriend who thinks Karin has pinched her lover. She switches from shrew to innocent with a flick of her head scarf to tell both sides of the story. The punchline is a killer!

And I loved the grisly – should that be ‘gristly? – Cannibal Waltz; Hannibal, eat your heart out! The final song may have disappointed a little when the big finish was required but Karin Muiznieks, singer, songwriter, cabaret performer, has a bright future.

I saw Casey Benetto in an early outing, long before Keating! and Comedy Festival canonization, in a show full of promise, intelligence and talent. First Against the Wall has shades of that – Karin is a fine young performer on the verge of big things.

His first song for the evening instructs the audience to ‘please lower your expectations’. Then he tells us how bad he is at telling jokes. Then he laments that every review he has ever received has essentially said, ‘It’s good, I suppose. If you’re into that sort of thing.’ And then he over delivers.

O’Doherty’s sense of humour is of the gently weird variety. His material always begins with observations of everyday life but he’s only ever a tangent or two away from something really surreal. His trademark shambolic plinky-plink keyboard songs are alternated with long ramblings about French pants and public transport experiences in the ‘quiet carriage’. These are also interspersed with extracts from the book he recently co-wrote with fellow comedians Claudia O’Doherty and Mike Ahern, 100 Facts About Pandas. (‘A blindfolded panda will always head north. This is due to the high iron content in the panda’s liver, which makes the animal slightly magnetic.’)

Fans of quietly eccentric observational comedy will dig this show, as will anyone with a penchant for vintage keyboards.

Another variety night featuring (mainly) the female of the species, it’s coordinated by carny-about-town Anna “Pocket Rocket” Lumb and self-appointed Poet Laureate Telia Neville. Already, that’s a weird marriage of irrepressible acrobatics and deadpan-droll verse, but it works – the strong performers anchor the show with ease.

On opening night, MC Tina del Twist was an entertainingly over-the-top introduction to proceedings, but the novelty of Wes Snelling’s drunken dame didn’t last til swansong. It didn’t matter though – the crowd needed a breather in between some of the most fun-filled comics you’ll see this festival.

While the guest line-up rotates, on opening night cutesy Claudia O’Doherty stole the show. Her stand-up routine focused on detailing the best kind of comedy for her tastes, accompanied by an off-beat scary story-telling – both cheeky and charming.

Bang Bang regular Ruby Rubber Legs turned a fairly pedestrian strip-tease into the best piece of burlesque I’ve laid eyes on. Hugely inventive, Ruby won the crowd, delivered a lesson in both anatomy and patience.

Similarly slow-burning was ‘token male’ Matt Kelly. One-half of the List Operators, Matt’s entirely mimed audience-sing-along built up to pure genius, and can barely be explained. But rest assured, if you go through this festival without screaming lyrics at Matt’s behest, you have not maximised its comedy potential.

“Variety” in the best sense of the word, Bang Bang Agency: Bang On! is a delectable spread of entertainment. And for $10 at the door when you show any other show ticket, there’s no excuse not to dig in.

Take Poet Laureate Telia Nevile for example. Nevile, tall and slim, at first glance seems too timid to impress, but she takes the stage, draws a deep breath and plunges into a slide show accompanied by a celebration of words, exquisite turns of phrase and wistful and ironic poetry. In only the second night of her first full-length solo Festival show, she was in full command of her material, her meagre props and the controls of her projector. Not all the comedians I’ve seen this year could claim that!

Her illustrated journey round the world – about 20 well chosen slides – is merely the backdrop to the poetic journey of the heart she pours out in her verses. She describes her odyssey as ‘an epic freefall of discovery held together with the divine glue of poetry.’ There’s a sentence you’re not going to hear in a Wil Anderson rant or a Felicity Ward ramble!

The poems are delightful, from teenage angst ‘Blue Light, Green Romance,’ to bittersweet love songs and a safari which needed audience participation after the absence of a drummer – Nevile tells us in another felicitous phrase – ‘left her percussively bereft.’ It was a charming, short program (only 35 minutes) of clever and perceptive spoken word. It’s not for the boozy, Hughesy set but it’s so refreshingly and winsomely different it could well be an early contender for a Best Newcomer award.

Occasionally throughout his hour of stand-up he makes references to an experience on a flight that required his newly acquired medical knowledge, even going to the point of having prerecorded messages from flight attendants. Eventually reaching his story, Vincent is both simplistic in his concepts and hilarious in delivery, but his long set-up has the potential to either keep you eager or somewhat annoy you.

Vincent’s stand-up material is observational, critical, and overall highly physical. He has clearly thought about the mundane aspects of life in way too much detail – sometimes to the scale that would make Kanye West seem normal. It’s perhaps more frightening that once you’ve finished laughing and had a good think about it, you might realise that a lot of what Vincent says on stage makes sense. If it were up to him to make the decisions in life, it would be a better working world that we live in. A strange world, for sure – we would have billboards around Melbourne with a man who makes minestrone soup from scratch, because ‘that would stop people from speeding’. Once you sit through Vincent’s show, you will understand why this is such a good idea.

Go and see his show, and get to know him. And the next time you see someone talking to a bird in a tree at five in the morning, say hi to him. It’s probably Adam Vincent.

Quaffing champers throughout and making each other laugh pretty much constantly, Brennan, Richard and Sullivan (‘just three VERY fucking lazy drag queens, people!’) manage to simultaneously challenge and reinforce a good deal of stereotypes about gay culture. Ranging from old-fashioned Carry On camp to new century pop culture – ‘Homo Mythbusters’ being a simple but effective highlight – the Poofy crew deliver a lot of laughs and a few knowing groans.

Unfortunately, the show itself seems slightly confused about exactly who it is aimed at – the gay community, who will get all of the jokes and in-crowd references? Or the curious straights to whom so much of the material seems aimed at ‘educating’?

Which brings me to the thing that put me on the back foot almost from the very start – the fact that, like so much of the gay community, Talking Poofy supports the concept and only acknowledges the existence of a binary-option model for human sexuality. Any gay men in tonight? Any lesbians? Any straight people? Sure, but when do the rest of us get to raise our hands? I struggled for the rest of the show to keep reminding myself that I clearly wasn’t their intended audience – even though I was laughing continuously.

Clark’s physical comedy and quick punch lines had the audience on the edge of their seats cheering and clapping like a football supporter on grand final. His dance sequence is second to none – even audience members who normally try to resist such ridiculous antics cannot fight the urge to laugh out loud. As a Perth boy who moved to Ireland, Clark has endless sharp tongued observations of cultural differences, encounters with backpackers and social transgressions.

All is not well, though. Towards the end of his show, Clark seems to forget that it is the immature one-liners, physical stunts and sight gags that made the show so enjoyable. Instead he becomes sentimental telling a long rambling relationship story, relying mainly on call-backs to earlier jokes that were actually funny. He might need some more work to bring this show to full potential.

First to take the stage is Carolyn Chillura, who was raised by TV and is confused by emoticons. She’s got a warm and chatty manner and whilst a little nervous, still did well enough. Gavin Baskerville delivered a tight set concentrated mostly around the follies of youth (both of our own and those of others). His relaxed style and pithy observations particularly appealed to my funnybone and I found myself laughing at, of all things, kids with allergies. Rounding out this trio is Wendy Little with her guitar and gentle humour, serenading us with reworkings of famous songs from the X time period. The clear stand-out here was her charming ode to the joys of self-love in the age of Internet vanity searches.

If you are of the X generation, you are sure to see yourself and your friends in much of the material shared in this show. Don’t be afraid to ‘fess up to having dressed like Boy George, and expect to have The Divinyls’ “I Touch Myself” stuck in your head for the next few days. Party on, dude.

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.

And now over to you:

• Michael Chamberlin & James Dowdeswell are both doing the same pose in their poster for this year. It’s based on Jarvis Cocker.
• Speaking of posters, Mikey Mileos is using the concept of recursion in his poster. If you google recursion, there is a very nerdy joke that comes up. [It had to be explained to me]
• Dom Romeo & Chris North’s show Crossing Over has nothing to do with John Edward. Who ran for Vice President in 2004.
• Dr. Brown of Dr Brown Behaves often crashes his bike as a flyering technique.
• Two Members of The Polar Bearings can recite Tiger Woods’ public apology by heart.
• Des Bishop only has one testicle. Courteney Hocking has none.
• French comedian Marcel LuCont is a Western Bulldogs fan. For patriotic reasons.
• Mathew Kenneally spells his name with one T. Kitty Flanagan uses two.
• Kate Micucci from Garfunkel & Oates is the only person to have kissed Ted from Scrubs on screen.
• Despite her title Sista Got Flow; Mel Buttle has no siblings.
• Sam McCool has fooled many audiences into thinking he is actually Scottish or Pacific Islander. He is actually just form Sydney. And yes, McCool is his REAL name.

1. Which comedy duo’s first names were Eric & Ernie?
2. In Good Evening who plays Dudley Moore?
3. Who are the three main characters in Robot vs World?
4. Name the three radio shows Ed Kavalee has hosted?
5. Speaking of Get This, who were the first & last guests on the greatly missed show?
6. Who were the three main characters of Father Ted?
7. In that theme, what was the name of the church in Vicar of Dibley?
8. Which stand up comedian was Dustin Hoffman Oscar nominated for portraying?
9. Who/what is Rodney in the show Rodney.Missing?
10. Which football team does Billy Connolly famously support?

First up Shayne Hunter from the Sunshine State (Queensland, that is) who trundled out on stage armed with incisive, cutting observational one liners in a deadpan, apathetic delivery style, which garnered the first belly laughs of the night.

New South Welshwoman Emma Zammit was next, peddling old and tired wog jokes and coupling them with similarly worn Gen Y material; she didn’t really entertain and was clunky, repetitive and just plain weird.

Warren Milera, hailing from South Australia, enlightened us on Aboriginal-English translations and native animals with tourettes syndrome. Although his act was scattered, his positive take on Aboriginal humor was a big plus.

Charles Barrington the Third, alter ego of Andy Rodger of Victoria, was the definite highlight. Though taking a while to warm up he became scorchingly funny. The consummate actor dressed in turtleneck and aviators, clutched a tumbler of whiskey and took us through his distinguished acting career, prolific authorship and his second (and third) loves, jam and beekeeping.

Goth Michael Workman, (who can apparently only beat up emos) pranced across the stage with mad facial contortions and provided a raft of entertaining self-deprecating observational humor.

The less outstanding acts in the middle were sandwiched between some genuinely funny acts, and overall it is well worth seeing these rising stars – secure your bragging rights now before some of these guys are big.

The relentlessly energetic show tells the story of a neurotic strongman, his alcoholic ring-mistress lover, and a dopey international guest star. Between them, they’ve got muscles enough to move mountains – and hormones aren’t in short supply, either.

The story’s straight-forward, but that’s about it. With some of the best over-acting you’ll see under an (imagined) big top, the three performers have comic timing to match their acrobatic equivalent. All the feats of daring are there, but Circus Trick Tease takes the physical achievement to a new level with cute audience participation, and a high-energy soundtrack. Highlights include some ingenious stage direction to pull off hilarious and sexy shadow play, and a  swing dancing set that makes the lindy-hop looks like child’s play.

With more jealousy, violence, intrigue and sex than a best-seller, these guys should be headed straight for Hollywood. Instead, run-down Trades Hall somehow suits their carny sensibilities – even if the roof is a little low for the acrobatic heights they scale.

Sanz reads from her memoir, from a time when she moved to Hollywood as a screen writer to make a film. The show outlines the mishaps and misfortunes of her move overseas, with pauses to include additional background information. Sanz has a vast quantity of material, and her stage presence is what makes the material fly. On stage, she has a rich persona – her strong stage presence captivated the audience, and propels her show along. Without her comedic timing the show would have been far less compelling.

Sanz kept up a consistent laugh rate throughout the show, particularly with the older members of her audience. Audience involvement is non-existent as the show progresses as a monologue, however, this doesn’t mean the show is any less amusing. An intimate gig of about 25, buried in the underground of Melbourne, Please Don’t Use My Flannel For That: A Memoir is amusing on a number of levels.

In truth it is a pity the once-host of ABC TV BackBerner and The Einstein Factor didn’t get a guernsey. It certainly would have livened up proceedings.

In a stripped-back stand-up session, Berner burns through current affairs with a sharp and original take. Not so much edgy as just plain intelligent. It is all familiar subject matter; what’s wrong with the kids, what’s up with old people, climate change, drought, the personalities in politics.  It is comedy rissoles, but it’s what he’s done with it!

At a time when Australian current affairs are so coma-inducing that most comics won’t touch then with the proverbial, Berner hones in on the role of water pistols in the water shortage, and bonding with the bush via video games. Binge Thinker will leave you wondering how it is Peter Berner no longer graces our television screens. (Although I think the beard may have something to do with it.)