Antony Hubmayer leads a Python-literate Marrickville Town Hall through A Monty Python Cabaret Singalong Circus, part of Sydney Fringe 2026. For Ayon Anwar — a newcomer to the source material, and one of three people of colour in a 40+ crowd — Dr H's charm and the show's nostalgia for a 'simpler time' start a conversation the review can't quite walk away from.
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Antony Hubmayer leads a Python-literate Marrickville Town Hall through A Monty Python Cabaret Singalong Circus, part of Sydney Fringe 2026. For Ayon Anwar — a newcomer to the source material, and one of three people of colour in a 40+ crowd — Dr H’s charm and the show’s nostalgia for a ‘simpler time’ start a conversation the review can’t quite walk away from.
Have you ever felt like you’re being hunted based on the fear emanating from your core? Neither have I. But at Antony Hubmayer’s Monty Python cabaret singalong circus, I came as close as Marrickville Town Hall would allow. The room was filled with Python pilgrims who would use the high ceilings to reverberate a chorus consisting of yelling the word ‘spam’ at varying volumes and cadences as well as an introspective look on the value of sperm. Only one person in the room didn’t know the words: me.
The predator in question, Antony Hubmayer (or Dr. H), could not be more welcoming. His theatrical attire fit his frame without condemning him to any particular shape, as he weaved through the crowd asking for the audience’s favourite Python moments. Shrinking beneath my notebook to avoid executing what the others in the room could recite instinctively, I failed to avert my gaze and locked eyes with the doctor, ready to be force fed my medicine.
I was spared my blushes by a woman performing the only line I knew (‘He’s not the messiah, he’s just a very naughty boy’) to perfection, allowing me to doff my metaphorical cap to her without revealing I wasn’t a fan worthy of my seat.
Dr. H’s ability to control a crowd was evident from the start. However, his time as a music teacher and professor at the University of Adelaide was overkill amongst this hyper-knowledgeable crowd. Still, he prodded and probed at all the right angles (even some acute and obtuse) to ‘persuade’ the crowd to sing along. Even as the most ill-informed participant, I required minimal coaxing.
We tapped along (some within the correct time signature, ahem, others to their own tune) without the need for Dr. H’s prompts. To soothe the chaos on my ears, Dr H was kind enough to throw in a key change during a number of tunes. All he asked in return was a wave of the hands and a swig of our drinks.
Make no mistake, Dr H has a talent beyond the majority of the population’s comprehension. His hands are precise and jittery at the same time. Knowing exactly what he is doing in the moment without knowing where he might go next.
As I looked around the room I made the conservative estimate that the average age of the audience was 40+. Unsurprising given that the majority of Monty Python’s body of work was produced during the 70s and 80s. There were 2 members, however, who stood out for opposing reasons.
The first was the gentleman sat next me who was kind enough to feign that I was an important member of proceedings as a reviewer, along with his partner, who sang and jazz handed their way through all the hits. Nothing too dissimilar to the rest of the audience, but what made this remarkable was that he was all but hobbling on his way out.
Perhaps even transporting us back to the time when we first heard it.
The second was the youngest member of the audience who was without question, the most enthusiastic. Constantly invading the personal space of the poor woman sitting next to him without missing a single beat of Dr H’s whimsical renditions. Despite being a fringe volunteer he was determined to make sure the crowd would not mistake him for someone who was there to make up the numbers.
The brief lectures between tunes provided ample context and an opportunity for Dr. H to eke out a laugh or two — the largest of which came after he stated that The Life of Brian came within a whisker of not being made once the script was read for the first time. The visceral reaction was contagious. The vibrations produced were from an audience well accustomed to this specific type of humour.
An hour long sing along immediately has my attention as it is as far away from an AI production as we can get. As a self confessed novice, I entered the room curious about the existence of a show like this, reminiscent of a time before my birth.
Amongst the crowd steeped in cultural monotony — 2 asian women and myself were the only people of colour — I began to understand the need for this show. Dr. H has created a spectacle which is hard to root against in an era where we are forced to watch one atrocity after another through our news feeds. This work is so attractive as it harks back to a simpler time, where — without malice — East Asian people are Chinese, South Asian people are Injuns and we don’t yet have a catch-all term from the North or the West.
Who knows if we will ever go back to such simplicities. After witnessing this particular chorus, though, it’s clear there will always be those willing to crack open a tin and sing along.
Creator & performer: Antony Hubmayer
Reviewed by Ayon Anwar.
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