REVIEW BY GRACE DWYER
EDITED BY EMMA PARFITT
A quick overview of Louis Prandolini’s already impressive creative portfolio includes writing, acting, filmmaking and stand-up comedy – like many up-and-coming Gen Z artists, he’s a jack of all trades. It’s fitting, then, that his debut Melbourne International Comedy Festival show Louis Prandolini Cracks A Cold Case is an eclectic mix of performance styles, whizzing between traditional stand-up, PowerPoint presentations and hard-boiled detective antics.
The Apollo’s Speakeasy Theatre is a perfectly suited venue, with worn velvet drapes, a sizeable stage, fairy lights and a cocktail bar. Jazzy noir music blares over the speakers as we take our seats close to Prandolini’s ‘office’, anachronistically kitted out with a retro radio, Monster energy drink, red Converse, and a MacBook. For the majority of Cold Case’s runtime, the show takes place within two distinct worlds: the office, where Prandolini begins the show by frantically getting into costume; and centre stage, where the show veers more traditionally towards stand-up comedy. Excellent lighting design theatrically spotlights the office while playing it cooler during the stand-up. As the show continues, lines begin to blur, culminating in confrontation, dramatic revelations, and many satisfying comedic payoffs.

Prandolini’s stand-up material is relatable and well-structured, and he has an informal, self-deprecating style of delivery that makes him an eminently likeable performer. He opens by taking shots at the usual suspects (the fake feminist blokes of Fitzroy, theatre kids, Hinge), and the more unusual (like global Twitch streamer Hasan Piker). The show’s premise itself is more about finding a mystery to solve rather than simply cracking an existing case. Microphone and PowerPoint remote in hand, Prandolini tells several stories about his escapades in the efforts to find a worthy mystery to solve – a winding path of strange characters, late night exploits and internet rabbit holes. I’m a sucker for a slideshow, and Prandolini is great at using his presentation to add a new dimension to the show rather than rely on it as a crutch. At the end of every tale, he moves to his office for phone calls, cold pizza and a dramatic internal monologue. The latter is my favourite part of the show, as Prandolini uses his voiceover to interact with himself and the audience to stellar comedic effect. I do wish he leaned slightly more on his detective character, and less on stand-up bits like calling out lukewarm audience reactions – always getting an apologetic laugh, but feeling like a nervous reflex near the end. This is nothing but understandable for someone’s first MICF show, but in my opinion, Prandolini’s comedic chops are more than capable of standing on their own.

According to an interview for Perth’s Fringe World, Prandolini tries to avoid having direct influences, preferring to draw inspiration from comics his age. Cold Case reflects this, to the point where my friend says she’s certainly ‘never seen anything quite like it’. It’s exciting to see Gen Z’s postmodern, surreal sense of humour make its way to the stage, and Prandolini leans into tonal whiplash in a way that made me double over laughing (for example – without giving too much away – a beautiful slideshow montage of a nitrous oxide can cut short by an all caps ‘DIVORCE’). He is similarly adept at setting up, building on and calling back to all kinds of tangents, in and out of character. The show’s conclusion is immensely satisfying as Prandolini effortlessly weaves threads together for an increasingly entertained audience.
There is an uncomfortable honesty in how Prandolini merges the two halves of the stage. His detective begins to resemble his ‘real self’, eventually coming face to face with the real-life consequences of committing to the bit, speaking to our generational tendency to shield ourselves in layers of irony, even to the point of emotional bluntness. But Prandolini rarely backs down from earnestness. As much as he rags on theatre kids (and fair enough), Prandolini is in his element playing detective, occasionally breaking character and cracking a smile. Glimpses of the fun he’s having don’t ruin the illusion at all – in all my sickly theatre kid sincerity, there’s nothing more I love seeing than people loving their time on stage.

Cold Case ends, and my friend and I talk about it all the way to the tram. There are so many moments, jokes and references in the show that feel like they were just for us – and I’m genuinely inspired by the creative passion and skill displayed so professionally by a guy my age with a Scott Pilgrim phone background (that I clocked immediately from my seat). MICF is more exciting and inspiring because of talent like Louis Prandolini’s, and I’ll be keeping tabs on his career, as a real detective should.
Louis Prandolini Cracks a Cold Case plays as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival at the Apollo Speakeasy Theatre until April 17th.
GRACE DWYER is a third year Arts student majoring in English and Theatre Studies. She fell in love with student theatre during her first year at college, playing a frog prince – and loves watching and talking about productions almost as much as she loved hopping around the stage.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre.
