Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

Introduced as ‘the master, the maestro, the best  to ever do it’, Zachary Ruane enters the venue with all the corny swagger of a Vegas magician. His promise? That this hour will be no less than the most definitive work of comedy of the 21st Century.

His first solo project outside of the Aunty Donna sketch group thus continues as a faux-arrogant takedown of all the inferior comedy that has come before him.  

Even though everyone – himself included – knows his conceit is, well, a conceit, he’s chosen a tricky path to navigate, not least because his opinions on the genres he targets rarely crackle with innovation. 

Pointing out that podcast comedy is just fellas shooting the shit, or that cabaret relies on one tune played in the style of another is no great insight. If – correctly – Joe Rogan plays no part in your life, Ruane’s piss-take won’t resonate, and if he does, you probably won’t be happy at him being mocked. Understandably, the ‘you can’t say anything any more brigade’ comes in for plenty of stick too.

The issue is that the content seems designed to appeal to comedy nerds; but doesn’t go enough beyond what a comedy nerd will already have noticed to have satirical bite, even if it does set up some daft set pieces. 

And while you can understand what he’s getting at when he admonishes Saturday Night Live for abandoning their responsibilities to comedy in favour of a sorrowful rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah when Donald Trump was elected – that seems a very long nine-and-a-half years ago.

Speaking of dated targets,  James Blunt gets a rinsing too, though it turns out that Ruane is less good at taking the piss out of James Blunt than James Blunt is… 

Piling on the irony, Ruane ends up deploying the very techniques he mocks, to mixed effect. His take on those cabaret songs, for example, are way too long. And just because he cracks up a little while singing them, isn’t really enough to turn the insincere sincerity into a joke. 

Yet if we know anything from Aunty Donna’s 15-year career it’s that all their on-stage members know how to perform the hell out of everything, and Ruane sells his material well.

He powers through the performance, commanding the room, imposing his sense of fun on us and leaning unapologetically into the more stupidly peculiar segments, laughing at the ridiculousness of his ambitions to demolish all other comedy. The genre will withstand this attack just fine.

• Zachary Ruane: Comedy is on at the Malthouse Theatre at 6pm (5pm Sundays; no show Mondays) until April 19.

Review date: 3 Apr 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival