Wandering into a red storage container in the Factory Theatre, obnoxious planes flying overhead, I was squished into a corner chair of the reworked performance area to witness the absurd whimsy and millenial wit of Charlie Lewin’s cabaret show Frogaccini. Transplanted from Melbourne for Sydney Comedy Festival, Lewin’s show is a self-described “part fairytale, part stand-up, all gay abomination”. It traverses the last two decades of Australian pop culture, some timely material regardingly the recently deceased Pope Francis (which, Lewin insists, was written last year, before the Pope “decided to pass away”), and several power ballads from the titular Frogaccini as he looks for acceptance and queer love.
Outfitted with a silken robe and handmade pink sparkly hat (which received multiple well-earned rounds of applause), Lewin begins the show as a princess in “the land of Italy, a fictional land much like that of Genovia from The Princess Diaries”. The plot of the fairytale, which bookends the show with musical numbers from pop icons and the musical Wicked, is a gayer and more on the nose reimagining of the classic tale of ‘The Princess and the Frog’.
The character name Frogaccini is inspired by Lewin mishearing the Italian homophobic slur frociaggine, which Pope Francis was accused of saying twice during Pride Month 2024. This character, outfitted in green velvet gloves hastily pulled on behind a back curtain, is a “homophobian in the confrogation” led by his Pope-like fictional father. Covered in silly puns and supported by Lewins’ enthused musical theatre vocals and bravado, the songs and this storyline are a fun and whimsical way to tie together some of the circular jokes of the show, and also inject some vibrant camp energy to the entire one-person production. The songs are funny, smartly placed without being overwritten, and backed by an actually talented singer who uses his strong voice to empower the story, without displacing laughs to cheaper gags like faltered singing.
Beyond the glittery and vocally strong reworkings of our titular allegory, Lewin’s two stand-up slots are well-considered and frantically lucid observations on the pop culture artifacts of his time. He walks us through his love of The Veronicas despite their historically Brat-like reputations (“for you Gen Z in the audience, The Veronicas are like Australia’s Charli XCX, but one of them is gay”), his history of editing the Glee fan wiki, and a recent anniversary trip with his boyfriend to a dessert-less fancy spa.
I personally adored his section on Moo Deng, and the comparisons of Moo Deng’s less-famous and less-talented sister to Danni Minogue. The audience had a wide spectrum of ages and cultures represented, and I believe I was the youngest person present. It was a treat seeing the centre row, buffeted by a group of iconically dressed and vivaciously engaged older queers, be bewildered by comparisons of Moo Deng to Princess Diana.
Lewin also has an extended run of jokes about the Pope’s alignment to queer culture. Supposedly, during his run at Melbourne Comedy Fest, Lewin asked the audience every night to pray for Pope Francis to live until the end of his run. Pope Francis passed the day after his run for the comedy fest ended. It was fascinating to see how Lewin addressed the Pope’s recent passing considering how integral the figure is to the construction of the entire performance. He toed a fine line between some clear genuine emotional conflict with performing the material, and diffusing that feeling by blaming the Pope’s passing on his clear disdain for Sydney and our comedy festival. Hopefully Lewin follows through on his promise to write his next show about Peter Dutton.
I’d say that at some points in the show, mostly towards the end, the overuse of ‘fuck’ and the f-slur became a bit of a performance crutch, but that was forgivable for a certain well-executed punchline involving flight attendants being physically threatened by the aforementioned Veronicas.
Near the start of the stand-up set, Lewin inquired as to whether there were any Gen Z in the audience. After I let out a soft ‘woooh’, Lewin asked my name, and then asked if the show so far “was slay?” I said yes, “it’s giving”, and he said “see, Will and I, we’re just so young and virile that we just get it.” We really are, Charlie. He later included a “Will thinks I’m slay” lyric in his middle number.
I can say confidently that the show was truly a slay. It was a green, leggy, froggy slay, which is the best kind.
By the time the final number came on, an iconic reimagining of a Chappell Roan song, you could feel how carefully all of the extended bits of the show came to a close, weaved into both the fictionalised Frogaccini and the general stand-up bits. Lewin knew how to draw the line between stupidity and sincerity, a balance which can be hard to strike in a medium as loose as cabaret. Considering the smooth execution of such a high-concept show, it will be a joy to see where Lewins takes his fast-talking and culturally precise skills next.
Froggacini will play as part of Sydney Comedy Fest at the Factory Theatre until the 9th of May.
