Some of the best writers and comedians converge in Adelaide to say a few words
Presented by: Adelaide Festival Centre
Reviewed: 13 June 2026
It is a known fact of humanity that a large percentage of the population rank fear of public speaking above spiders, clowns, heights and even death. Yet public speaking is such a big part of societal life. Weddings, politics, media, sports, all require a speech of some sort from orators from the inspiring to the downright awful.
In this one-night-only performance, Johnny Hawkins (celebrated Sydney-based writer and performer) co-hosts with Jo Dyer (former director of Adelaide Writer’s Week, 2019 – 2022), inviting guest writers and performers to deliver fictional speeches without giving the audience any context. Premiering at the Sydney Writer’s Festival as a collaboration between Hawkins and Hannah Reilly, I’d Like to Say a Few Words seemingly has the sheen of a comedy show, but it is the writing and the social conscience of each speech that creates the impact.
For the Adelaide presentation, the performer list is a who’s who of writing and comedy. Opening the night with a job interview as an aspiring member of the Adelaide Cabaret Festival, esteemed author, Peter Goldsworthy takes us through his history with the Arts, writing and inspirations for a long and fulfilling life. Beginning strong, the lineup continued with Richard Carroll presenting a speech to shareholders of a global company, with all the tropes of modern business presentations and an underlying harsh reality of corporate greed. Robyn Archer added to the horrors of tech-bros presenting a global university merger moving entirely online (make Adelaide connections to that as you will) as a PR stunt for war-mongering billionaires. Archer’s invoking of Bob Dylan and sharp attacks on the reducing of education and the increasing of worldly horrors were particularly impactful. Rounding out the first half with a little more levity, but equal dollops of irony, Bharat Sundaresan’s sportsman came out as “a white man” in his acceptance speech, highlighting the injustices of white privilege and idiocy with a sense of humour.
By this point, the theme was starting to come through… while we the audience did not understand the context of each speech immediately, the commentary and analysis of society and the frankly depressing aspects of our world were definitely in for a rinse. Jo Dyer knocked this home with her council presentation to the animal world, planning the elimination of the human race (at our own hand). An entire crowd feeling existential dread is a live experience I do not necessarily wish to experience again, but Dyer’s meticulously crafted speech and mesmerising oration was a highlight of the night.
Vidya Makan lightened the mood with a slightly tipsy bridesmaid’s speech that not only targeted regrets of unrequited love, but added a subtle nod to inherent racism to give it some zing. Artistic Director, Rueben Kaye surprised many with his very-against-type speech as a right-wing One Nation country politician who is cancelled before he begins. The gorgeously tall Kaye in full beat and 9-inch heels donned an Akubra, and gave us his most butch performance of the festival. He did not shy away from making a very serious point about Australian politics, and it was refreshing to see Kaye’s political advocacy come through in this forum.
Finishing up the night was Johnny Hawkins themself setting up one of the most hilarious operations to infiltrate a battlement, involving pink ponies, saunas and naked, sweaty men… a perfect finale, giving new meaning to the “don’t ask, don’t tell” aspect of the armed forces.
Each presenter had something profound or touching to say and demonstrated that while many of us may be too scared to get up on that stage, we are so immensely privileged to have the writers and orators of our generation join us at the Adelaide Cabaret Festival and remind us that there is much to be done in our world, while still having a laugh.
Reviewed by Hayley Horton
Photo credit: Claudio Raschella
Venue: Dunstan Playhouse
Season: ended
Duration: 1 hour 15 mins
