You’ll have to see the show to find out. Puzzle Boy covers autobiographical terrain such as high school, retro toys, crushes on goth girls (even though I wasn’t very deep or cynical), and a suitcase full of love letters never sent. “I found this suitcase last year, and when I read them they were excruciatingly, embarrassingly angsty,” he says. “But because of the space of 10 years between when I wrote them and now, I can look back on myself and go, was I really like that?” Lawrence decided the letters would be good material for a comedy show, inadvertently bringing about a mini-renaissance of writing. “I talk about the lost art of letter writing, because nowadays everyone’s texting and emailing but no one’s really writing a good letter anymore,” he says. “I feel like it’s really struck a chord - people have sent me some nice letters.”

Puzzle Boy is a more personal show than his previous work. His 2001 Melbourne Fringe Festival show Sucker recently received Government funding to be produced as a feature film. Sucker, which won the Best Solo Show award at the Fringe, is about card sharks, scams and con artists. His 2003 Comedy Festival show Skeptic covered ghost hunting and John Edwards-style celebrity psychics. “That’s what I used to do, almost a comedy lecture,” he says. “But for Puzzle Boy I decided to go back to my roots of stand-up and storytelling and do a more personal show. It’s very gentle.”

Those roots are firmly planted in Lawrence’s university days, where he formed a comedy theatre group with Comedy Festival colleagues Andrew McLelland, Christina Adams and Adam McKenzie. According to Lawrence, university is “a chance for people to postpone their adolescence before they figure out what they really want to do.”

“I’ve got friends who were doing law degrees and have quit to do comedy, like Charlie Pickering and Sammy J. I think it’s quite honourable to see people risk big moneymaking professions to do something people love. There should be more comedy out there. It makes the world a nicer place.”

Nothing is nicer for Lawrence than chatting about his favourite topic: the Rubik’s cube. Inventor Ern Rubik still lives and works in Hungary, but Lawrence isn’t holding out for any new breakthroughs in puzzle technology. “Rubik never improved his work after he built the cube,” he says. “He was always trying to make other puzzles, but nothing beats the simplicity of its design and the complexity of its execution. There have been a lot of imitators since, but the Rubik’s cube is amazing. It’s amazing.”

Lawrence geeks out for a minute, begging the question “what’s with all the geeky themes at this year’s Comedy Festival?” Lawrence’s theory takes us right back to high school again.

“Maybe there are two types of comics. One is like the class clown, not the bully but the popular kid who just made everyone laugh at school. And the other is the person who was probably picked on at school because they were sort of not normal. Maybe they’re all outsiders, not participating but just watching the world and thinking, and they become comics. The geeks shall inherit the earth, as they say.” In this technological age where the art of letter writing is all but lost, the geeks shall indeed inherit the earth. Let’s just hope the Lawrence Leung inherits Melbourne.

‘I sent invitations to ASIO and the Chief of Police,’ he says. But how would we know if they were in the audience? ‘They’re very subtle and undercover people, but I’m sure they were there. One night you’ll go to see Greg Fleet’s show and he won’t be there at all. He’ll have just disappeared. And we’ll wait for another 50 years, and he’ll come out with a really great show about what’s it’s like to be in prison.’

Fleety won ‘by a country mile’, in a competition to see who could be the most seditious onstage. ‘(Competitors used) seditious material’killing people and blowing things up and overthrowing the government. The normal sort of seditious stuff you’d expect.’

When he’s not encouraging unAustralian behaviour in others, Quantock hangs around the coffee shop at Trades Hall making plans to overthrow the Government. He has a trained kangaroo ready to hop into Parliament House with a pouch full of explosives. It is nearly time for Rod to set his plan in motion.

‘It’s a matter of days now,’ he says, although he admits his bank manager would rather it didn’t clash with the Comedy Festival. ‘When I overthrow the Government there’s going to be civil chaos and unrest. The trains will start running on time, and people will get very confused and won’t know where they are.’

Won’t blowing up a kangaroo get him in hot water with the RSPCA? Don’t worry, Quantock’s got that one covered. ‘I’ve got a marsupial mouse going in there, with four ounces of superphosphate because it’s only little. No one will suspect the marsupial mouse.

‘You’ve got to think these things through. You can’t go off half-cocked. I’ve got a backyard full of highly trained suicide marsupials. Teaching them to light a match is the hard part. There are bits of blown up marsupial all over the backyard.’

Quantock performed at the first Melbourne International Comedy Festival in 1986 with his show Bus: Son of Tram, and 20 years later is the only comedian still performing at the Festival. During his career spanning over 30 years, Quantock has become known for his politically charged brand of stand-up. This year in his show Rod Quantock’s Australia! he is having more trouble than usual in keeping a lid on his anger at the Howard government’hence the jokes about blowing it up. In spite of this, he remains loyal to his country. ‘I don’t have a passport because I don’t go anywhere you can’t get to on a tram. Why would you want to go anywhere else’?

There’s a bit of an urban myth going around at the moment that Quantock is the only comedian to have performed at every single Comedy Festival since it began 20 years ago. I may have helped perpetuate this myth in last week’s edition of The Pun, but as Quantock pointed out to Declan Fay and Chris Kennett on 3RRR’s ‘The Pinch’, it is in fact not true. ‘There was a period in the mid-nineties where I became a Scientologist, and they said, ‘No more shows for you,’?? he says. ‘But I broke free. It was around the time that Nicole left Tom, I think.’

Thank God he returned to us’without him Melbourne’s comedy landscape just wouldn’t be the same. In search of some words of wisdom, I ask Quantock if he’d like to leave us with anything before I stop the tape.

‘I’d like to leave you my gold watch. When I die, you just come around to see my family and say you’re from The Pun and they’ll give it to you.’ Thanks, Rod. We’ll cherish it.

But this is hardly the time to get lazy.

‘We’ve spent the majority of the last four years doing short-form, which is often described as ‘jumping through hoops for the audience’,’ says Rob Lloyd, The Crew’s Artistic Director. ‘Then late last year we decided to use 2005 to explore new and challenging forms of improv, to plant some seeds for experimentation and make things more interesting for us and our audiences.’

Such was the inspiration behind Instant Musical Odyssey, The Crew’s festival show. Evolving from a ten minute warm-up game, the show blends several different short-form improv formats with song to produce an hour of musical storytelling.

From an initial collection of scenes where actors take turns offering a character, the audience decides which character’s story they’d like to see fleshed out. Narrated by Musical Director Dan Walmsley, a musically charged story ensues with genres, styles and other ideas all being audience led.

‘So far we’ve done a musical presenting the story of a vampire and its arch-nemeses the slayers, and another about a goat on a quest to find its name…so really it can go anywhere!’

Started after the 2001 Comedy Festival as a playful Sunday hang-out for comedians at The Comic’s Lounge, The Crew quickly gathered unexpected momentum until, Rob says, ‘we realised we could achieve some goals from this.’ Five years later and their weekly show Impro Sundae still attracts regular fans.

‘I think what excites audiences is that it is all completely made up on the spot, and there’s a real danger in that, which we really embrace. We like to show the mechanics of it, show the minds working and the challenge of it. I think there’s a temptation to make impro look too perfect’but the audience doesn’t want to see perfection, they want to see the challenge. That’s the thrill.’

And what makes a good improviser? ‘Those who make the the other person look good, who just ‘do’ and don’t ‘think’ too much, and above all, who aren’t afraid to show their personality on stage. Audiences don’t want airs and graces, then there’s nothing to relate to. You have to be smart, confident and funny’and yourself.’

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.

While others may do shows for the Festival based on climbing metaphoric or literal mountains, Chamberlin keeps close to his Catholic upbringing ‘I’ve never been trapped in the bush or contracted some exotic disease,’ he explains, ‘this was what I dealt with growing up.’ Those who have seen Chamberlin perform before will be used to hearing about his staunch and strict Catholic school story. This year though, he puts those years of religious education to good use in an attempt to refresh all the outdated messages being taught in churches the world over.

So how does his Mum feel about his show, considering everyone’s favourite cultural commentator Andrew Bolt called his show ‘Christian-baiting’ (despite never having seen it)? ‘She’s actually pretty okay with it,’ says Chamberlin, ’she’s more worried about me saying the C word. I have to justify it, point out that I only say it a couple of times for dramatic effect.’ The show is far from religion bashing, with the kind of commentary that can only come from the love/hate relationship you develop with a religion when it’s your own.

Writing comedy for ‘Rove Live’, performing stand-up and running successful comedy room Stagetime for another season keeps Chamberlin busy. The return of Stagetime was welcome for the local comedy scene, but Chamberlin feels it’s time for new people to step up to the challenge. ‘There’s a lot of merit to running a room. It’s a great way to get good time on stage. I want to see some new people start taking it on.’ There’s that level of stress associated with all of it though, Chamberlin equates doing a live show as part of the Comedy Festival or running a room to having a party. ‘You find yourself checking the door??are those people coming in here? Are we going to have an audience’?

For a performer who seems to have this show well and truly under control, Chamberlin talks at length about how difficult the show was for him to write. ‘I find it a really hard process, before I took it to Adelaide I really didn’t want to go. I kept thinking, ‘Maybe if I just step out in front of this bus I won’t have to go and do it.” When I voice surprise, commenting that I felt the show worked incredibly well, Chamberlin looked as if he were enjoying the performance immensely. He is happy to point out that he stays focused on the work at hand, ‘I don’t believe that a show is ever perfect. You just have to keep working at it and getting it better and better.’ His perfectionist streak certainly seems to be paying off with sell out shows and satisfied audiences.

Scod will take to the stage each night to sing up a storm with Yon and Gatesy, but he’s also going to be appearing elsewhere during the festival. ‘It’s going to be a busy year, that’s for sure’ he agrees, ‘It’s just great to have a month full of gigs’. With shows each week as part of the Midnight Trade season at Trades Hall with band Scott Edgar and the Universe, extra gigs outside the festival at The Artery and if that wasn’t enough he’s also joining Cam Bruce and various guests to bring Bob Dylan songs to the masses with Dirt Road Blues. With the Dylan show requiring the performers to learn new music, arrange songs and organize their collaborations, it’s difficult logistically and requires a large amount of preparation for a once off performance. The challenge is something Scod is looking forward to though, given that it is a fun departure from his usual musical stylings. ‘If nothing else I’m going to be a better guitarist by the end of the festival’ laughs Scod.

With their television work on SkitHouse and now with Peter Hellier, radio on Triple J and live shows both here and overseas, the trio have reached massive audiences with work which is shaping up to be as strong musically as it is with comedy. Their singing voices seem to improve every year, as do their musical arrangements and instrument skills. From their awe-inspiring Radiohead finale a few years ago to Gatesy picking up the guitar this year, they are keeping their sound fresh and growing with every challenge they take on.

With strong seasons of Self Saucing already behind them, bringing the show to the festival in the small and cosy HiFi bar is something they are clearly enjoying. ‘We’ve just been having fun with it really’ says Scod ‘we’ve now got Gatesy playing guitar on stage, which has been good and we’re doing mostly newer stuff’. The festival in their home town is obviously one they can take pleasure in and with shows selling out already, audiences are clearly happy to have them back again.

Two years later, the New Zealand-grown TV regular found she had ‘kind of gone mental’ for the game and now brings us Up There Cal Wilson, a stand-up extravaganza which takes the audience through the ins and outs of selecting a side.

In a town where most people, if they aren’t born into barracking for a particular team, have most certainly chosen one to shackle their hopes to by the end of primary school, AFL proselyte Wilson feels rather like ‘the new girlfriend of an older guy that everyone else has known for years. They’ve got all these stories about him and you’re like ‘Oh, I didn’t know you’d been married before!” she laughs. ‘You guys know it all.’

Up There is an outsider’s look at Aussie Rules for those who love and those who love to hate the game. Wilson performs an on-stage assessment of each of the teams that finished in 2005’s Top 8 (in light of their uniforms, anthems, key players and coaches), and looks closely at just what it means to support a particular club.

Following numerous conversations with a variety of footy nuts, Wilson is convinced that the culture is so deep-seated in the Melburnian mindset that football fans ‘get their identity from it. People judge people on their teams,’ she says. ‘It’s like another horoscope. It’s like ‘Oh, you’re a Scorpio, or, oh, you support Collingwood.”

Audience interaction is a favourite pastime for Wilson, but is she worried about being hassled when she finally reveals her side? Passionate fans can be mighty touchy. ‘I’m expecting I may get a few murmurs of ‘You can’t say that!’ But people just seem to love talking about footy and being hassled about footy and hassling other people about footy, so I think that even if you don’t like what I’m saying about your team, you’re gonna love what I’m saying about everyone else’s!’

Like Penny when she was a teenager, ‘Kathy worries about if she is stupid and criticises others for being stupid. The very exaggerated nerdiness of the character isn’t a reflection of all 15-year-olds, more of how I feel and how I see other people act.’

The way Kathy looks isn’t necessarily a reflection of 15-year-olds either. ‘I don’t naturally look like one. I’ve changed the way I dress, but I doubt anyone would mistake me for a 15-year-old. Although,’ Penny laughs, ‘after one show, I did hear a woman ask if I was actually from maths camp.’

Penny claims that at 15 she wasn’t particularly funny. ‘I was morbid’obsessed with death and watching The Dead Poets Society.’ But Penny does admit that she was ‘ok at maths’.

Nowadays, at least, Penny is more than ok at both maths and comedy. She has a double Arts/Science degree, majoring in Chemistry with a minor in Maths, and maths and science references can be found throughout Kathy Smith Goes to Maths Camp. Some that Penny expects ‘only two people a night will understand.’

‘But maths is really only a vehicle for the story,’ says Penny who understands that ’some people find maths a little scary.’ She admits that when she makes maths and science references on stage, she is ‘often afraid someone in the audience will say ‘You can’t do that!’ or ‘It’s wrong!”

This year Penny Tangey won a Moosehead Award, which she explains is ‘more of a grant than an award. They are presented for an idea and make it easier to put on your show.’ For Penny, ‘it’s reassuring to know that someone thinks you’ve got a good idea and a show worth doing.’