Krilling Me Softly | Melbourne Fringe Festival

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https://www.melbournefringe.com.au/whats-on/events/krilling-me-softly

Date Reviewed: 08/10/2026

There is something ridiculous about an adult audience gathering to watch someone dressed as a giant crustacean talk about krill. And yet, despite groaning at crustacean puns, we danced together, forgot our age and surrendered to the charm of Krilling Me Softly, Anna Thomson's silly cabaret at Melbourne Fringe.

Watching the performance, I was reminded of the shows I used to take my children to when they were tiny tots. The enthusiasm, audience participation, playful absurdity, shoestring production values and educational elements all felt familiar. Only this time, the audience was overwhelmingly adult, with a distinctly alternative Fringe crowd happily embracing the nonsense.

Thomson, a physical comedian and clown, commits wholeheartedly to the aquatic madness. As Krill.M.S Pinafore, our crustacean host aboard the Cheap Krills No Frills Underwater Discount Sea Cruise, she navigates an ocean of puns, environmental concerns and increasingly absurd situations.

The premise is as daft as it's origins are deep.

"I was doing a show about death," Thomson explains in one of her pre-show videos, before realising she wasn't enjoying the process. With so much darkness in the world, she wanted to create something joyful instead.

Inspiration struck at Tasmania's Beaker Street Festival, where a giant projected image of a krill swimming, its tiny legs moving hypnotically through the water, left her mesmerised. An obsession with krill puns followed, and Krilling Me Softly was born.

Beneath the deliberately juvenile humour is a conscious decision to respond to the world's troubles with playfulness rather than despair.

There is an environmental message, too. We learn a surprising amount about krill, tiny creatures whose importance to Antarctic marine ecosystems far exceeds their size. Climate change and ecological fragility lurk beneath the comedy, but Thomson makes us laugh rather than lecturing us.

Not every joke lands, and the relentless silliness occasionally had me wondering whether the material might be better suited to children. Indeed, I wished mine were still young enough to bring along. They would have loved it.

Yet sustaining such an eccentric premise takes skill. Thomson's physical commitment, expressive performance and willingness to look utterly ridiculous carry even the flimsiest jokes.

At times, I found myself thinking that Thomson and Melbourne cabaret provocateur Moira Finucane ought to meet. Their theatrical worlds are very different, but both understand the power of outrageous performance, physical abandon and breaking down the barriers between performer and audience.

And audience participation is central to the fun. There are opportunities to join in, respond, move and generally make fools of ourselves. At one point, treats were flung into the crowd. I was genuinely disappointed not to catch one. Apparently, even grown-up theatre critics can feel cheated when they miss out on the goodies.

The finale, with its infectious theme music and prompted dance moves, has everyone on their feet. By then, the distinction between performer and audience has almost disappeared. Adults who might normally remain politely seated are dancing along to a celebration of Antarctic marine life.

It is difficult not to smile.

So who is Krilling Me Softly for? The young at heart, lovers of absurdist comedy, marine-life enthusiasts and anyone willing to abandon their dignity for a little while. Despite the adult Fringe setting, its humour and interactive format would also appeal to children. Anyone allergic to puns, however, should probably stay ashore.

This is not sophisticated cabaret, nor does it pretend to be. At times, it feels closer to a very good children's show. But perhaps that is precisely its appeal. It gives adults permission to be silly, curious and unselfconscious in ways we rarely allow ourselves.

In a world saturated with bad news, there is something refreshing about learning a little marine biology, dancing with strangers and celebrating a tiny Antarctic crustacean.

Thomson set out to create something joyful. On that measure, Krilling Me Softly succeeds.

And I'm still annoyed I didn't catch a treat.

Highlights

• Treats flung into the audience: A playful surprise, although I was disappointed not to catch one!
  
• Highly interactive: Audience members are encouraged to participate, respond and abandon their inhibitions.
  
• Krill puns galore: An endless stream of gloriously silly wordplay, delivered with infectious enthusiasm.
  
• An unexpected biology lesson: Who knew there was so much to learn about these tiny Antarctic creatures?
  
• A joyful finale: Catchy music, prompted dance moves and an entire room of adults letting loose.
  
• A committed performance: Thomson's physical comedy and boundless energy turn a ridiculous premise into an engaging theatrical experience.

Who's it for? 

Children at heart, lovers of absurdist comedy, clowning enthusiasts and Fringe audiences who don't take themselves too seriously. It's also a delightful introduction to marine ecology, wrapped in silliness.

Families with children would enjoy much of the playful humour and audience participation, although it's worth checking the show's age guidance.

Not for: Anyone expecting sophisticated satire, a conventional cabaret or a pun-free evening.

Best enjoyed with: An open mind.

Suggestion: Ann Thomson should get together with Moira Finucane as they both share an uncanny interest in krill.

Reviewed by Mary Sinanidis