16-05-2025
Our reviews from week two of the NZ International Comedy Festival
Boners, mums and bad audience behaviour filled our nights in week two of the biggest comedy event of the year.
Brynley Stent – Bonetown
Bonetown. A safe place to share your bones. Brynley Stent as our game show host, comically skulking around the stage in her Maleficent horns and a black Lycra one piece and devilish tail, accidentally breaking her sexy demon character to explain rules and then quickly transitioning into the best witch cackle I've ever heard.
The rules: It's a basic game of 'Would you rather' but with a fun twist: What would you rather bone? It was up to our panel – Kura Forrester, Chris Parker, Olga Koch, Courtney Dawson and Nicko Vella – to decide.
Sex with Sonny Bill or freshly washed sheets? A crisp Coca Cola or the feeling after a deadline has been met.
Going on a rollercoaster ride continuously because the operator keeps letting you ride or the gender pay gap.
The panel guests were asked to choose two 'bones' and then make their call. Discarded bones were then swiftly placed into a cauldron which lit up and made a demonic noise a lot like a guttural 'Singapore'. Pretty quickly, the audience caught on to and repeated it every time a bone was thrown in – very The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Perfect.
In the end, the winning bone was A nasty girl who looks chopped – translating to when a mean girl goes out looking unattractive. Not a cool girl who is super drunk, which is what I thought.
Bonetown was fun! And although a little late for an old granny like me, it was totally worth it. The rapport between the panel and Stent felt like we were all in on a little secret, part of a crew. Like a funny little hug with the devil. / Eli Rivera
Dan Boerman – Folds A Fitted Sheet On His Own
When I saw Dan Boerman fold a fitted sheet on Cuba St in April, after weeks of seeing posters plastered across the capital and breathless Vic Deals reporting, I think I might have been the only person there who reacted with complete, unadulterated rage. How dare a comedian (and a man, no less) organise a bit that I would find extremely funny, and then try to sell me tickets to his show?!?!??! What happened to pure, goofy fun with no strings attached?
The only option from here was to go to his show and see if my anger was justified. Evidently, the folded sheet stunt worked out, because Fringe Bar was just about sold out. But the problem with Gen Z-geared advertising is that you will have Gen Zers come to your show, and bring their lack of etiquette with them: one lad in the front row tried to butt in every five minutes, others had phones going off, and two girls thought it was all good to have a few chinwags throughout the whole thing.
Boerman was great at riffing with the audience, but the near-constant disruptions definitely slowed down the jokes and stopped some trains of thought. In the moments where no one was trying to force themselves into the show, Boeman was very funny. He seems like the kind of guy I would have worked with in hospo and been kept alive by with some much needed banter in the kitchen. So, Boerman, I forgive you – and I hope you can forgive the Gen Zers you turned into fans along the way. /Lyric Waiwiri-Smith
James Mustapic – All Good If Not
I have been a fan of James Mustapic's work for longer than I've been a fan of any other local talent. Way back in 2014, I was procrastinating my uni assignments by watching Shorty Street Scandal episodes over and over. I first became aware of The Spinoff in 2015 because Mustapic posted that his videos were being shared there.
In short, I'm a big fan of the format – Mustapic performing jokes through the medium of powerpoint and short video clips – and have seen a handful of his shows over the past decade, some decidedly stronger than others. But this year, with All Good If Not, Mustapic has produced his best show yet, and one that will surely count as one of the best in the festival.
It began as should be expected from Mustapic at this point – with the slideshow powering up and an awkward review of an earlier gig being dissected. The next hour covered Mustapic's sweet spots: his mum Janet's life, his dad (who is estranged and had many issues with Mustapic's TVNZ show, James Must-a-pic his Mum a Man), and his grandma's emails.
If it was just that, All Good If Not would have still been worth a ticket. Mustapic has nailed his chosen format and knows better than anyone that sometimes the funniest moments come from those not trying to be funny at all. Example: his slow live and verbatim readings of his grandma's emails (which were projected on the screen behind him) were some of the highlights of the show.
But Mustapic has always been a great multimedia performer, especially when it comes to playing the jester – positioning himself as a mere observer of others and lobbing (very funny) grenades at those around him. Where All Good If Not felt new and elevated was in Mustapic's candid moments of self-referential comedy. In speaking to his own feelings and insecurities, Mustapic has found a way to gently bridge the gap between himself as the all-seeing-eye of NZ culture and the audience, who want to get to know him. In All Good If Not, Mustapic assesses himself the same way he assesses Sensing Murders's Sue Nicholson: critical, deeply cutting yet with a deep appreciation and love.
