BrisAsia Comedy Gala
Top Row (L:R) Michael Hing, He Huang, Urvia Majumbar, Bottom Row (L:R) Ashwin Segkar, Jo Gowda, Ting Lim, Asian Aunties.
The BrisAsia Comedy Gala, co-produced for the annual BrisAisa Festival, explored cultural identity, generational trauma, and social constructs with light-hearted wit.
Emcee Michael Hing set the tone by highlighting racism in Australia as a national sport and this event Pauline Hanson’s worst nightmare. He event declared the audience the “worst Asian audience” due to their low attendance after every nationality cheered for their origin of birth. Like eager spectators ready for action, we were ready for what came next. Hing, a self-described “damaged soul” let us know he was need of laughter and audience heckling. “I love your jumper!” catcalls out a hyped attendee. I think, “Yes, for the win of amusing audience interaction”. His missive on the lack of cultural representation in the Epstein files, made me face palm with an awareness of racism so real, as much as Chinese kids are supposed to be born good at Maths and one day become an eye surgeon.
I take note here that many of the following stars are on National comedy circuit in Australia, including the annual Brisbane Comedy Festival - so keep an eye out, no pun intended.
From there, the night started with a great line-up of a quick-witted routines.
Ashwin Segkar picked up the Epstein theme pondering why certain billionaires’ guest lists lacked Asian representation. “His set covered everything from politics to food, including advice on not stealing Indian food “without proper training”, Olympic training in the art of hot chilli eating, the structural integrity of a samosa (a “perfect Indian triangle”) and why us Aussies don’t do love letters to murderers.
The next two comedians took a different route, exploring social constructs and immigration.
Jo Gowda tackled hypocrisy with a grin sharp enough to cut Centrelink red tape. She skewered the classic “stealing jobs” rhetoric, performed a pitch-perfect Bob Katter impersonation, and had a go at the proverbial shoey when faced with eating with one’s hand and hygiene concerns. I personally don’t think a curry in a shoey would work somehow, so why is beer in a shoe a thing?
Ting Lim offered a masterclass on approaches to medicine, comparing Western and Chinese differences, how the cure to all is water and facing the awkward question “why you aren’t married?” Singapore born Lim perfectly captured the paranoia of growing up in a Cantonese-speaking household and retuning home: “I know you’re talking about me. I just can’t prove it.”
Then came the Asian Aunties — Himali Ratnayake as Auntie Rani and Janette McBride as Auntie Maria — dancing onstage like they owned not just the theatre but also your life choices. They dispensed unsolicited wisdom (“Marry rich”), interrogated strangers about their income, demanded at least four grandchildren, and suggested nominating themselves for the Order of Australia for free advice. While the performers threw themselves into the roles enthusiastically, their sets didn’t seem to resonate with the audience as much as the other performers. Lasting longer than the rest of the comedians, their sets felt like they dragged and they seemed to draw more groans than laughs than the other performers. With this in mind, for future performances I'd suggest they tighten their skits and focus on the elements that drew the most laughs like sexual tension and consent.
I loved the turn for the last two comedians bringing up the energy and returning to the popular stereotypes of relationships and immigration.
Urvi Majumdar brought both dating despair and humour. From Brisbane’s “bottom-of-the-barrel” dating apps to a seven-year relationship that ended in long texts with file attachments, her storytelling was painfully precise. As a high school teacher forcing her students to read the most explicit passage of a novel in silence, she radiated the confidence of someone who had done something dodgy at work, and continued to turn up, knowing that they had gotten away with what they did without getting fired. Class act.
Closing the individual sets, He Huang was gloriously deadpan. “I’m not here to buy your properties,” she assured us, before unpacking accidental extremist haircuts, and the existential dread of dating younger men with “so many hopes and dreams.”
Not every comedic moment soared, but it all felt on brand. Comedy this culturally specific and unapologetic doesn’t beg to be liked.
The BrisAsia Comedy Gala, for the most part, served hot curry with white ignorance like rice and tiger balm, peppered with sprinkle of relatives arguing in the kitchen. Overall, I laughed lots, thanks to the routines being funny and relatable for everyone.
BrisAsia Festival runs between 13-22 February, explore the program of events on the Brisbane City Council website.
