Dr Hubble's Brilliant Bubbles | MICF 2026
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https://www.spiegelhausmelb.com/events/dr-hubbles-brilliant-bubbles
Date Reviewed: 31/03/2026
Kids rush into the pop-up tent at the Spiegelhaus for Dr Hubble, eyes wide, faces lit up: no iPads in sight, just pure, unfiltered joy. It’s the kind of scene you don’t see enough of: kids completely in the moment and loving it.
Before the first proper trick, he's already working the room. “When everyone’s in a really good mood, that’s the best way to start a show.” Mission accomplished. The kids are in. The parents? Completely, happily trapped.
Behind the wild-haired, bow-tied chaos is Shep H Shepard as Dr Hubble, a seasoned sideshow performer who knows exactly how far, and how high, he can push a moment before it pops. He hypes himself: “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls… this is the show you’ve been waiting for” and then charges onstage like a rockstar who’s swapped guitars for soap solution.
What follows is a dare: how far can bubbles go? A square bubble hangs in the air, casually defying physics. A swirling “galaxy” spins inside another. Jellyfish drift. Dragon eggs. Disco bubbles shimmer. And something you never thought you’d see is a square bubble. And just when you think he’s run out of ways to surprise you, the finale flirts with actual fire as soap suds turn to flame.
“I never know how long a bubble’s going to last,” he shrugs, watching one tremble mid-air, “but I do know, they all pop sometime.”
It’s funny, a little philosophical, and somehow keeps even the wriggliest five-year-olds locked in.
The real magic is in the looseness. Things wobble. Tricks misfire. He leans into it. “No problem. I’ll just make another one.” That unpredictability becomes the hook. You’re not watching something polished to within an inch of its life; you’re watching something alive, risky, and unfolding in real time.
Then, just as it threatens to be all spectacle, he pivots. Kids are invited onstage and coached gently: “Not too hard… not too soft.” Their task? Keep a bubble alive using nothing but breath and teamwork. It’s chaotic, adorable, and unexpectedly moving.
When they manage it, even briefly, he reframes the moment: “I saw three humans who didn’t know each other, working together to keep something alive.” They are rewarded with some swag, stickers with the Dr Hubble brand.
In a tent buzzing with sugar and excitement, it lands.
There’s heart running quietly underneath it all. He ditches plastic gimmicks in favour of DIY tools, “two bits of bamboo and some recycled cotton”, and folds sustainability into the show without ever turning preachy. “The world doesn’t need more rubbish,” he says lightly. “What it needs is people like us being part of the bubble solution.” He’s not wrong.
His journey to this point feels just as improbable as his tricks. Before becoming Dr Hubble, Huntly was a sideshow performer cutting his teeth in big, loud, high-adrenaline productions. The bubble obsession began simply, making bubbles in his backyard in Byron Bay to entertain his daughter, until passers-by started stopping in the street to watch. “I thought, ‘There must be a show in this,’” he says. Eight years on, that backyard curiosity has evolved into a full-blown act that’s travelled from festivals like The Lost Lands Music Festival to international audiences, all built on what he calls “magic without deception.”
By the time he circles back to the teased finale, “a bomb in a bubble”, the room is completely his. Kids lean forward. Parents grin, slightly surprised by how invested they’ve become.
A blizzard of tiny bubbles drifts through the tent like snow, catching the light, and for a moment everyone is just… there.
At the 40th Melbourne International Comedy Festival, where attention is hard-won and easily lost, Dr Hubble doesn’t just hold it, he plays with it, stretches it, and sends it floating overhead. “I’ve got a little bit of enthusiasm, a little bit of optimism, and now I’ve got you as well,” he says near the end.
A friend and I went without kids, possibly the only ones, but found ourselves just as absorbed, watching not only the tricks but the delight ricocheting around the room. The real show isn’t just onstage. It’s in the faces turned upward, the laughter, the collective gasp when something impossible holds for just a second longer than it should.
Highlights: the square bubble that shouldn’t exist, the “galaxy” swirl, and a finale that quite literally goes out with a bang, the kids in the audience giggling and eyes full of wonder.
Who’s it for: kids, obviously, but also any adult who’s forgotten what it feels like to be completely, joyfully distracted.
Reviewed by Mary Sinanidis