Review of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival

Bronwyn Kuss’ delivery has an assurance – even aggressiveness – that comes from confidence, despite the fact that this is her first show. Given the quality of her distinctive content, it’s a well-placed confidence.

She’s not hesitant to hammer home a point or leave a punchline hanging in the air for maximum impact, and she performs with a fearless joie de vivre in some acts. She appears to take pleasure in making the guys squirm as she confronts them with the reality of toxic shock syndrome, pinning them with an icy glare as she instructs them in her forceful opening gambit.

That demeanour gradually softens, and she becomes a little more self-deprecating about her strange interests, while remaining dry and laconic — keeping her distance while quietly mesmerising the audience with her low-key attitude.

She regurgitates some of the most horrible and troublesome stories from Home & Away for a large portion of this best-newcomer-nominated hour. Kuss employs deft editing and – once again – timing to maximise the chuckles she receives from this “found comedy,” with pregnant pauses allowing the ghastliness to settle in.

A hilarious joke about a misheard phrase producing tremendously humiliating crossed wires, a routine that will have you googling Tina Arena to see if it’s true (it is), and musings on ‘frigid’ being a schoolyard term are among the other highlights.

It’s a refined performance that establishes Kuss as a prominent new voice on the festival circuit.