Latest news with #LukeKidgell
The Advertiser
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Advertiser
Luke Kidgell - Good Intentions - Fri 15 to Sat 16 Aug - 375 Hunter Street, Newcastle, NSW
View Photo Entertainment Luke Kidgell - Good Intentions When Fri 15 - Sat 16 Aug Add to calendar Where 375 Hunter Street, Newcastle, NSW Get Directions 375 Hunter Street, Newcastle, NSW Luke Kidgell kicks off his new World Tour in Australia in 2025! Luke is known for his viral crowd-work interactions that often lead to some fairly unusual, yet hilarious encounters. Despite not having much control over his impulsive thoughts, Luke insists that deep down he means well, and this year he's on a mission to prove it. After touring the US, Canada, NZ & Europe Luke is coming back home with his brand-new show Good Intentions. This is not one to miss! You've seen him on the internet, now it's time to see him in real life, as Luke tries to prove that he really does have Good Intentions. Please note, by entering the venue, you are agreeing to be filmed, and any content produced may be distributed for promotional purposes. Running time 90 minutes, no interval. Times are approximate and subject to change without notice. Recommended for ages 16+. Patrons under 18 must be accompanied by a parent or guardian.
The Age
01-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
Stand-up comedy: Luke Kidgell rode wave of social media as Instagram and TikTok exploded
, register or subscribe to save articles for later. Add articles to your saved list and come back to them any time. It was the night of the US election, and Luke Kidgell was working at a venue in Los Angeles. An Aussie abroad, watching history unfold. The residents of the predominantly blue Californian state were anxiously awaiting the results, though many of those Kidgell had spoken to before had resigned themselves to an incoming Republican president. At the venue, the emcee hopped on the mic every 30 minutes, updating the audience with the latest vote count, slowly but surely confirming their worst fears. Tough gig for the guy on stage trying to make everyone laugh. Luke Kidgell has performed at famed venues such as the Laugh Factory in LA and New York's Gramercy Theatre. Credit: Simon Schluter As we sit down to lunch, Kidgell tells me that some crowds are inevitably better than others, though a bunch of progressives staring down four more years of Donald Trump wasn't his toughest audience. That, he says, was when he opened for Steve-O, a prankster from the dangerously disgusting 2000s-era show Jackass . Steve-O became famous for stunts such as sticking a hook through his cheek and throwing himself into the ocean as 'shark bait'. It was safe to say his audience came to the gig expecting some hardcore content. 'They didn't want the jokes,' Kidgell says with a laugh. 'It was just a bunch of neckbeards in heavy metal T-shirts waiting for Steve-O. Like, 'Why is this little boy on stage?'' Difficult shows are bound to happen when you relentlessly tour the world for four years – the trick is to dwell for no more than 24 hours before getting over it, Kidgell says. He is one of a handful of Australian comedians who can regularly sell out shows from Europe to America, at famed venues such as LA's Laugh Factory and Indigo at London's O2 Arena. If you haven't heard of him, you're probably not on TikTok, where he has amassed millions of followers and posts clips of improvised interactions with crowds. Those international gigs are a long way from Melbourne's north-eastern suburbs, where Kidgell grew up. He still lives nearby, and he chose this, his local pub, for our lunch because in his mind 'it would be funny' but also 'extremely convenient'. Panko-crumbed chicken breast topped with Virginian leg ham, Napoli sauce and melted cheese, served with chips and salad. Credit: Simon Schluter We arrive at the Diamond Creek Hotel, affectionately known as the Diamo pub, and take in the atmosphere. 'I've never been here at this hour,' Kidgell says, appraising the grandparents shuffling between the bistro and pokie machines. 'I've never made a better choice in my life. It's awesome.' The meal he orders reveals as much about his simple tastes as the location, despite his globetrotting lifestyle. Kidgell ignores my efforts to elevate our dining experience by pointing out there are oysters on the menu, and states he wants a parma. Chicken tenderloins coated in a Dorito spice blend, fried golden, with lettuce, guacamole, tomato, jalapenos, American cheddar and a creamy buffalo sauce with chips and side of cheese sauce. Credit: Simon Schluter He says it with such conviction that I hurry to the counter – there's no table service, and drinks are ordered separately at the bar – forgetting we are also supposed to get sides. On the spot, I order my Dorito-crumbed chicken burger, glance over the menu again and pick the popcorn cauliflower for a side. Wrong choice. Bite-sized cauliflower, deep-fried and served with a side of sriracha mayo. Credit: Simon Schluter When it arrives at the table, Kidgell looks at the dish as if it has just told a very bad joke, calls it a bold order and doesn't touch it throughout the meal. (The parma, smothered in stretchy, wet cheese, and a side of chips are meticulously devoured.) My Dorito burger has certainly got its namesake crunch, but I forgot to ask for no jalapenos, so I put it down and return to our conversation. Doing stand-up comedy might be many people's worst nightmare but Kidgell relishes it. He recalls his first-ever gig at the Imperial Hotel near Melbourne's Parliament Station: 'I think I got, like, three laughs, but it was enough to get me to come back.' The 29-year-old has been chasing those laughs since he was a teen in high school, which is where we first met, though we haven't caught up for more than a decade. I remember him as someone who was more interested in joking around than studying, dedicating endless hours of his lunchtime filming skits with his friends. The videos would be posted to the early iterations of Facebook in a group that quickly developed a mass following among his classmates. I ask Kidgell to describe what he was like when he was younger, and whether it was natural that he went on to make people laugh for a living. 'Can you [describe me]?' he asks instead. 'I would classify you as a class clown-type,' I say. Kidgell was first told he should do stand-up by a disgruntled teacher. Credit: Simon Schluter 'You can use the term attention-seeker,' he says. 'That's probably more accurate.' He reveals to me over lunch that it was in our high school history class he was told for the first time he should be a stand-up comic – by a likely disgruntled teacher tired of his interruptions, but still. '[She said] you should do stand-up comedy, laughed, and then walked away,' he recalls. 'I have a distinct memory of her saying that ... It was the first time anyone's ever suggested it, even if it was a joke. She was probably like, 'That would be the worst'. And I was like, 'She's onto something'.' Kidgell admits he was never particularly studious, and he has certainly maintained his laid-back demeanour, lounging in his chair on the Diamo pub's balcony in his plain white tee and jeans.
