Melbourne International Comedy Festival review

Kate Dolan likens her full-on performance to a manic episode – and she’s not far off the mark. In a high-octane, wildly physical hour she throws in a gazillion accents, song snippets, tech cues, dance breaks, audience barracking and more. Every trick at her disposal is deployed in the name of feeding the ‘piggies at her joke trough’, as she amusingly, and mock-aggressively portrays the crowd. 

Trout is a noisy show in every sense. If the comedy doesn’t work out  (and don’t worry, it will) she could do a decent trade shouting ‘scream if you wanna go faster’ at a fairground ride. She wouldn’t even need a microphone.

She makes ceaseless efforts to cow any stragglers in the audience into submission. ‘The show’s not going to get any more normal,’ she loudly asserts to those reluctant to get on board with her initial in-your-face absurdity. Whether that works or drives them further away surely depends on whose face she’s yelling into. 

The Australian-based Brit’s vocal work is excellent, dropping in and out of accents or sing-song rhythms to reinforce her points and her punchlines. And given she once harboured ambitions to be a dancer, movement is a huge part of her comedy, too, not just the obvious dance breaks but in stalking the space as she talks and in overtly physical routines such as hilariously adopting a ‘Billy Big Bollocks’ swagger across the stage.

There’s a lot going on in her content as well as the delivery. Dolan’s fast-moving routine covers both the frivolous – her dumb best friend is a constant source of material – and the weighty, such as premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMS’s even more evil sister) and suicidal breakdowns.  A bit of depression is good, she cheekily argues – if you’re happy with everything that’s going on in the world, you must be something of an idiot.

She’s not a woman to be silenced in any sense of the word and talks with disarming frankness about her body (she celebrates being ‘built like a brick shithouse’) and her pussy (she loves the word) while scoring feminist points against the patriarchy with such ribald enthusiasm you’d have to be a thin-skinned member of the manosphere not to enjoy the gag.

With her apparent phobia of even a millisecond’s silence, her often content doesn’t get much room to breathe… each point is twhacked home with a metaphorical giant comedy mallet. The dilemma is that a good gag doesn’t  need such a forceful sell, while a weaker one can be propped up by the energy, but feels cheapened by it. However supercharged exuberance is what defines her, the uniquely feverish style that makes her feel like such an exciting up-and-coming comedian. 

When she does ease off the gas a little, the material carries more weight and she uses that technique sparingly but effectively. Likewise, the absurdity that underpins the work of a woman who starts her show wearing an elaborate trout head is very occasionally relaxed to let us see behind the more figurative mask too.

Dolan is a force of nature, but how to harness that power without neutering it is still a formula that she hasn’t consistently figured out. But Trout is a wild ride. You will laugh a lot. Be intimidated a bit. And be entertained always. She won’t let you have it any other way.

• Kate Dolan: Trout is on at the Malthouse Theatre at 7.45pm (6.54pm Sundays; no show Mondays) until April 19. It will be performed at Monkey Barrel Comedy Club during the Edinburgh Fringe.

Review date: 9 Apr 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Melbourne International Comedy Festival