Review By Tessa Stickland
Bronwyn Kuss is back with her brand of dry comedy and Queensland charm.
Kuss' latest hour of stand-up comedy is full of stories about her childhood, growing up in Ipswich (being much better than the (in)famous redhead from there), tales of her family, and being queer in all of that.
For me, Kuss is one of the top dry comedians. She straddles the line of monotony perfectly.
From her expressions to tone to pacing – our brains want to perceive it as / would assume it is monotonous. But she never actually is. Like many of the dry greats, she uses tools that should be boring to make hilarity.
While she can use these dry tools to bite, she's overall relatable and lovable. She can give Melbourne a gentle razzing and it's delightful!
There's an authenticity to Kuss that puts you in her corner.
It never feels like she's "trying" to be anyone or anything. In some ways it seems like she's not even trying to make us laugh. (Though clearly she's clever with her craft, and this isn't just dumb luck.) She presents herself and her world as they are – with no pretention.
Despite this only being her second full solo show, there's a wisdom to Kuss' comedy: both in content and style of delivery.
This understanding of the way of the world (that she appears to have, or does indeed have) helps her wry observations land. The audience feels safe in her hands.
Her deadpan approach catches you off guard before it charms you. It matches her authentic storytelling, creating this very straight-faced, straightforward persona.
She doesn't shy away from dark topics either. Like the deadpan veneer, she starts dark and reveals a soft centre. Kind of like a Mentos mint. Hard on the outside, but gets chewy. Or like coming inside from the freezing cold, slowly warming up by the fire.
He does talk about baby death, but it's good. I promise. It shouldn't be. But it is.
If you grew up in a rural area, if you're a lesbian, or a fan of dry ginger humour, Bronwyn Kuss is the stand-up for you.