After a whirlwind five-day tour of Australia's junkiest city, Cubisia's ready, willing and able to pronounce judgement on the humble selection of comedy acts experienced this past week. If you're in Melbourne, or planning a trip down there before the International Comedy Festival ends, here are a few hot tips on things to see and things to avoid.

He was highly enjoyable last year, so I was keen to experience David O'Doherty's effortlessly laidback act again. He's an Irish bloke with a keen ability to find genuine hilarity in really mundane shit, and some cool Casio keyboards he picks up between jokes. His musical style self-confessedly borders on novelty, with charmingly ridiculous and relevatory lyrics. If you've never heard of David, go see him as soon as possible.
David O'Doherty Is My Name, Hi-Fi Bar, $27.50

If you're more interested in a trainwreck than a comedy show, Alec Fry & Doug Chappel are the stand-ups for you. Doug's the sorta guy who'd do well on The Footy Show, but even the modicum of goodwill he built up among the 10-strong crowd was annihilated by Alec's piss-poor efforts. More a Powerpoint presentation than a humourous routine, he barely made a joke. The topic of the show - that some things we learnt at school were useless, and there are useful things we could've been taught instead - has a lot of potential, but these guys never got near it. As I was walking out of Mark Watson's show the next night, the perfect final word on Re-Educated came to mind. They shoulda done their homework.
Re-Educating The Planet, Amber Lounge, $16

Daniel Kitson is a genius who blows away all other acts. Helen Razer gave him a wanky five-star review in The Age, likening him to a German Romantic painter, and he repaid her with a five-minute, in-show rundown of why she's a fuckwit, so extra points to Kitson there. Daniel weaves a story through 90 minutes, sharing perspectives on life, tales of childhood wonder and adult disenchantment. Unlike many other comedians we saw, his show had a strong theme and sustained idea holding the act together. In short, Daniel Kitson is eloquent, hilarious and arrogant - but with good cause. He's a sell-out act who still manages to seem underground.
It's The Fireworks Talking, The Athenaeum, $30

Possessed by a manic Welsh energy that leaves you exhausted by the end of the show, Mark Watson moves frenetically around the stage, accidentally tossing bottled water on the front row and talking at a hundred miles a minute. It can be hard to keep up. The show was oversold the night we went, which made the poorly ventilated room steaming hot. Plus, they closed the bar 10 minutes before he came on. It takes talent to keep an audience on-side under those conditions. Mark has definitely refined his act since last year. There's plenty of (friendly) audience interaction and the light theme adds a framework to a great bunch of material about why we shouldn't hate other people quite so much.
I'm Worried That I'm Starting To Hate Almost Everyone In The World, Hi-Fi Bar, $29

I like Tommy Dean. I interviewed him for People and found out we had some hobbies in common, so I was looking forward to seeing him perform. Tommy considers himself an absurdist philosopher, and that's exactly how his show comes across - a rundown of recent events, everyday life and global issues from an askew angle. Of course, it would've been far more enjoyable if not for the large, insane woman in our row who laughed too hard at every joke, editorialised and provided a "fuckwit's commentary" on the act. This "positive heckler" brought one of Tommy's talents to the fore - quick retorts that made the rest of us laugh and didn't offend her.
3 Card Monte, Victoria Hotel, $25

Ed Byrne was alright.
Standing Up And Falling Down, RMIT Capitol Theatre, $30