A new hybrid comedy room, no, not like a car.

I had the great pleasure tonight to see the Mahoney sisters give birth tonight to a new Melbourne comedy room.  After the shit in the news lately, blessed be the vagina jokes.

I had the great pleasure tonight to see the Mahoney sisters give birth tonight to a new Melbourne comedy room.  After the shit in the news lately, blessed be the vagina jokes. Hybrid? It’s promising more diversity in people on the stage as well as in comedy technique (cabaret, skits, stand up, you name it). But then they got all mixed up and threw in a dance party vibe.

You’ll remember I’ve written about Ellen; well it turns out balls run in the women in the family, with sister Sarah DJ Lady Diet Coke running the best kind of interference. It’s not often I wanna write a review the night of a comedy showcase, but here I am, in my pajamas, writing about the funnies.

So, welcome, Dance Party Revolution.  May your chubby cheeks and new baby comedy room energy be maintained with an endless stream of the hilariously inappropriate.  The pumping tunes between comedy and the Moulin Rouge velvet booth comfort of the The Toff in Town will make your hump day evenings worth going out for. No better way to slide into the downhill than down the greasy dance/comedy pole of Wednesday night comedy.   

And this comedy crip with a walking stick – my night was made happier the moment I walked in.  There is a LIFT! While I didn’t check out the bathrooms (note to self, do this), I’m just delighted I don’t have to risk mortal danger trying to get upstairs.  The lighting is all coloured so it’s somewhat sensory friendly, but it’s loud (as expected), so sensory accessibility might mean popping into the bar next door for a break and some quiet.  But it’s tons more accessible than most comedy gigs, hooray!  *seriously though, the more detail there is in this review is a direct result of the access, I had more spoons to write! Just a reminder that disabled folks are 18% of the population.

So, tonight I just wanted to share my delight at what the first line-up produced.  I’ve challenged myself with a 50-word limit for each of them, because after marking too many uni student papers, brevity in getting to the fucking point is love.

Luka Muller can make a COVID vax sexy, and that’s saying something, because A+ for asexual visibility tonight.  Good to know that there was two of us 1% of aces in the room.  Gotta love it when someone funnies up the A often left off the rainbow alphabet and in solidarity.

51 words, argh. Try again.

Prue Blake wins peak relatable awkward with the best relationship advice.  Sleep.  Get it, lots of it.  Only thing better is a relationship where you can get a good night’s sleep and have sex at 3pm. Unless, of course you’re like Luka and that weird ass other Ace in the crowd.   

51 words, fuck it. 

Sean Diao can shame job Australians better than most white Australians can shame job each other.  Not only does he take down Melbourne’s religions of football and coffee, but he made us laugh doing it.  Take that conspiracy theorists, there is no Chinese agenda, we are doing it to ourselves. 

oKAy! Finally 50 words.  Must have been influenced by Chinese efficiency.

Oliver Coleman. I don’t like Seinfeld-esque angst, but I am now a fan of Oliver Coleman. Because Oliver takes what Sienfeld did and turns it into absurdist social commentary while stabbing stand up in the eye. He slams my 50 word limit into the limitless void of loneliness and turns me into one of those wanker reviewers oohing and ahhing over inversion of social order, surreal juxtaposition and takes the nights award for “comedians’ comedian” (yes, I was sitting with other comedians).

Screw the 50-word limit, Oliver Coleman turned me into that guy from Chortle.

Jordan Barr is quick fire reversal jokes on steroids, punctuated by 90’s nostalgia that even this Gen x’er cheered at. While I was writing feminazi manifestos the year she was born, I’d love to read her teen diaries. A glimpse inside her head on stage was more than enough for me to exalt “thank goodness I’m not a boomer because I love millennials”.

Ah. 63. Dang.

Hot Department.  I. Have. No. Words. Only. An. Online. Order. For. Pee. Proof. Panties.  But seriously folks, they put Glee into the seediest dive bar and the mock incest into musical theatre.  Just add slapstick and dance and you have…well…Hot Department.

39 words. Love.

And Ellen Mahoney stitched it altogether as EMCEE and kept us in stitches.

Ellen, Sarah, it takes guts, grit and glamour to run a comedy room, and this first line up was all that and more.

Well done, this is something to look forward to on a Wednesday night.

Where? The Toff in Town, Level 2, 252 Swanston St. https://thetoff.com.au/

Doors at 7.30 pm, every Wednesday. 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/dancepartyrevolutioncomedy

Righto, it’s nearly 1am, I’m off to bed.

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