Spoons by Damian Callinan | MICF 2026

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https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/browse-shows/spoons/

Date Reviewed: 18/04/2026

Damian Callinan presents Spoons at the Arts Centre Melbourne as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival—a captivating performance that lingers long after you’ve departed.

Enter Stan Coates, 84, recently widowed and being gently—but firmly—pushed toward a senior living facility. He’s still sharp, stubborn, very much himself, even as his body begins to betray him. Watching him cling to his independence, negotiating what he’s willing to let go of and what he absolutely isn’t, feels achingly familiar.

For those of us with ageing family members and loved ones now in care, it strikes a particularly raw chord. That quiet, creeping realisation—that you’re no longer observing the older generation from a distance, but slowly becoming part of the next line to fade—is handled with remarkable tenderness. The show understands that strange in-between space: the anticipatory grief, the complicated family dynamics, and the reality that sometimes there isn’t a neat goodbye.

Stan’s late wife’s souvenir teaspoon collection, and his refusal to part with it, anchors the narrative. It becomes a symbol of connection and memory—a shared life held in small, tangible objects. It’s a quiet nod to anyone who has ever held onto something that seems insignificant to others. I couldn’t help but think of my own spoons, collected over years of travel—gifts from friends and family, each carrying its own story, sweetly utilitarian yet decorative.

What’s especially compelling is the way Callinan moves through the show, shifting fluidly between deeply Australian characters, culturally significant anecdotes, and perspectives, keeping the audience absorbed and never allowing the emotional weight to settle for too long. The staging is wonderfully visceral, with lighting and sound adding depth without ever feeling overdone—everything is carefully and thoughtfully considered.

There’s plenty of humour—sharp, sometimes dark, and often laugh-out-loud, particularly in moments of audience interaction—which never undercuts the poignancy. Instead, it sits alongside it, just as it does in real life. One moment you’re laughing at Stan’s biting observations about aged care; the next, you’re hit with something that feels almost too close to home.

As a younger family member begins sharing videos of Stan’s rants and reflections online, he unexpectedly goes viral—an unlikely voice for dignity in ageing, something that feels both timely and necessary. You find yourself cheering him on, not just for the rebellion, but for his insistence on being seen and heard.

This is honest, compassionate storytelling. Callinan delivers a truly special show—comforting yet confronting in the gentlest possible way.

Reviewed by Vivien Lynch