Review of the visiting Australian comedian

Australian comedian Anthony Locascio recognises that much of his audience comes to him for no other reason than they share either his Greek or Italian ethnicity, presumably in the spirit of community support, or simply to hear their experiences reflected back at them. 

At his best, he offers a bridge between the cultures of his family and the whiter comedy fans at his show. It peaks here with a description of the traditional dances of Greek Orthodox weddings, and the Biblical verses sung without anyone paying attention to just how inappropriate and misogynistic they are.

He bills himself, with some apparent sincerity, as the ‘woke ethnic comedian’ – though that positioning sometimes misfires. The advice that the macho ethnic men in the audience get themselves gay mates to widen their worldview is certainly wise. That he portrays gay men as sassy finger-snapping stereotypes who can’t help but flirt with him is more reductive.

Indeed, the first half of the show comprises relatively low-effort material – albeit delivered with a reassuring confidence and polished stagecraft. He talks about his elderly grandfather on Hinge, relies on tired tropes that married men must be miserable, hypes up the lairiness of stag dos - ‘must have titties’ – and comments on how priests have it easier than comics, as no one heckles a sermon.

The last two themes combine in a skit imagining The Last Supper as a bucks party, with Jesus trying to explain away the excesses Leonardo Da Vinci captured to a fictional wife. Maybe this holds more impact if you hold the masterpiece in religious reverence, but it seemed comedically formulaic, even if you can’t fault the commitment of Locascio’s act-out.

The comedian’s thoughts had turned to wedding dances and stag dos as he, too, was due to get married. But with a few weeks to go, his fiancée called it off. We never quite get to find out why.

Trying to deal with that devastating emotional blow, Locascio booked himself into a phone-free meditation retreat in the Blue Mountains outside Sydney, with ten days of ‘noble silence’ and a vegan-only diet to focus his thoughts. After getting a couple of easy ‘lentils make you fart’ gags out of the way, Locascio smoothly changes gear from club comedy into storytelling mode. 

Explaining his experience here becomes far more important than reaching for the next punchline, and his undeniable presence and delivery skills have the audience leaning in to learn more. Throughout the show, he tends to be more verbose than he needs to be, but while this has the effect of stringing out the jokes in the first section, here the more laid-back approach provides engaging colour to his story. 

Up front, the audience was warned that by calling the show The Divine Comedy, Locascio was deploying the same medieval meaning of the word ‘comedy’ that Dante did: a story that’s simply the opposite of tragedy; one that starts sad and ends happy, rather than carrying any expectations of gags and laughter. Go with that expectation, and you’ll be satisfied.

Review date: 26 Jun 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Top Secret Comedy Club Drury Lane