Dave Hughes: Pointless

With enough time between his mainstream TV and radio ventures – including tours to Montréal and London – household name Dave Hughes had managed to wipe himself clean of the soul-crushing stench that is big-time media and return to his comic roots.

From the darkness emerged the sounds of a dying crowd, and Hughes soaked up every second of praise before throwing it right back in everyone’s faces by using his few years living in Perth in the ‘90s as an anchor to pursue a suburb-by-suburb attack on punters. Front row latecomers should have known better. “Come in from Balga? What happened? Car was hard to steal?” Hughes joked before turning his sights on punters who he presumed were fresh from an “upper-class Tinder date” at Nandos.

From there, a road down everything that “shits” him was on offer, with The Bachelor’s Blake Garvey, hipster beards, “chunky fuckhead” Jamie Oliver’s chins, ebola and – in an unsurprising turn of events – AFL. Not even his three-year-old daughter and her fake café were safe. It was his family and “relatable jokes about murdering his children” that yielded most of the profits, and an easy dig at Jetstar rounded out a solid hour-and-a-half with “aww” moments from Rolf Harris and Malaysia Airlines jokes. 

Regal Theatre, 14 Oct