“I didn’t come here to f*ck spiders,” Dylan Adler announces as the lights come up to show the purple kimono-clad performer seated at a grand piano. “I came to fuck you.”
And over the hourlong performance of Haus of Dy-lan, he certainly f*cks with the audience, allowing them to guess just how much truth there is in his heartfelt stories (“I swear every part of this is true) of growing up as one of two gay Japanese Jewish twins.
Time and again, Adler dials up the pathos with deeply personal anecdotes before giving the audience whiplash with punchlines that gleefully cross any boundaries of taste.
Race, sexuality, mental health, teenage bedwetting and a grandfather who signed up to be a Kamikaze pilot (“I just listened to Twenty One Pilots) are all fair game, and the breakneck pace means there’s no time to ask whether it’s appropriate to laugh. But rather than delivering jokes with a snarl, Adler wears a disarming smile that’s impossible to resist.
Over the course of an hour, Adler belts out showtunes and emo anthems, strikes plenty of poses and portrays his mum as a Sex and The City character in a fast-paced act with more layers than Carrie’s tutu.
The gags are delivered with such rapidity that audience members who only catch a third of them still get their money’s worth, and at times I wish there was a joke counter above his head to help me keep pace with the callbacks that come so thick and fast it’s impossible to keep up.
Throughout the hour-long set, Adler’s impeccable timing is backed up by a note-perfect production team who help every joke land and leave the audience stretching out faces that are sore from laughing so hard.
If this is the kind of quality Adelaide Cabaret Festival is putting up this year, then its 2027 edition is going to be something no fan of the art will want to miss.
FIVE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
The reviewer attended this performance on 7th June, 2026. Adelaide Cabaret Festival will return for its 27th edition in June 2027.
Photos by Claudio Raschella.
