Review: Perth Comedy Festival Gala 2026 at Regal Theatre

Perth Comedy Festival Gala 2026 at Regal Theatre
Wednesday, April 29, 2026

The Perth Comedy Festival Gala at the Regal Theatre is starting to feel like that rare thing: a variety show that actually improves with age. This year’s edition leant right into the chaos of the format—eight minutes per act, a whirlwind of styles—and somehow made it feel cohesive, sharp, and consistently funny.

At the centre of it all was Daniel Muggleton, who didn’t just host—he steered the whole night with confidence. His description of the Gala as “the camping cereal multipack of comedy” nailed it, and his closing story on studying for male fertility tests was awkwardly detailed and expertly delivered.

The Australians came in strong and weird in the best way. Daniel Connell turned airport security into a tight, relatable set, while Damien Power went delightfully off the rails with a “meth-powered Avengers” concept that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. Jimmy Rees, in full Robert Urban mode, treated the Regal crowd like a David Attenborough special, uncovering some truly strange “wildlife” in the audience. Dan Rath’s set was less memorable, but Chopper closed out with a chaotic detour into food and war that somehow made more sense the longer it went.

The UK and Ireland crew brought a different rhythm—a mix of charm, cleverness, and beautifully controlled chaos. Kai Humphries was instantly likeable, spinning everyday observations about ageing, falling, soap, and magpies into something relatable and very funny. Dan Tiernan clearly had his ears open backstage, dropping callbacks to earlier comedians’ sets, while Elf Lyons’ absurd, physical style completely won the room over once she hit her stride—strange, committed, and refreshingly different. From Ireland, Alison Spittle brought offbeat energy (and an unexpected love of Shrek), while Andrew Maxwell leant into international observations on Australia’s obsession with rules.

The South Africans were the most consistently smooth operators of the night. Schalk Bezuidenhout had the room from the jump, mixing marathon misery with dating disasters in a way that felt both dejected and tightly controlled. Alfred Adriaan, meanwhile, was all flow—effortlessly gliding between jokes about becoming your parents, with transitions so clean they almost went unnoticed.

Not every opening line landed instantly, and a couple of acts took a minute to find their footing—the risk you take with such a fast-moving lineup. But that’s the magic of the Perth Comedy Festival Gala. It’s not about perfection—it’s about momentum, variety, and those moments where something completely different hits exactly right.

And this year, that “multipack” wasn’t just a mix—it was a genuinely great one.

MELISSA MANN