There’s something immediately refreshing about a comedian who doesn’t try too hard to be outrageous, but still somehow ends up saying the most unhinged things in the most casual way possible. This set absolutely nails that balance.

The humour is original without being alienating. It’s grounded in everyday life; parenting, school comparisons, growing up but constantly veers into these wildly quirky, “did he really just go there?” moments. One minute you’re nodding along about public high school life in Batemans Bay versus your mates’ polished private school experiences, and the next you’re hit with a completely unexpected tangent about solving prison overcrowding with a “strategic” beach day involving a few curious white pointers and some paedophiles! It’s effortless, it’s cheeky, and somehow… it works.

A standout thread is the parenting angle. The ongoing internal debate about raising a kid in a world glued to phones hits home . The bit about replacing screens and “living in the moment” feels noble, right up until the creeping realisation that your own kid might grow up socially cooked because everyone else is still on their devices. That tension is both hilarious and potentially real. 

Then there’s the commitment to the absurd. Ten weeks of preparation for a fathers’ race day? Treated like an elite athletic campaign? It’s that kind of over-serious approach to something completely trivial that really lands. Everyone knows someone who would absolutely do that and that’s why it hits.

What makes it all click is the tone: relatable, slightly mischievous, and never preachy. He doesn’t position himself as better than anyone, if anything, he’s in on the joke, fully aware of how ridiculous it all is. Even the darker edges of the material are delivered with a wink, not a lecture. He’s been described as a master of dry observational humour, well he’s really bloody funny too!

Overall, it’s the kind of comedy that sneaks up on you. You go in expecting a few laughs about everyday life, and you leave realising you’ve been laughing at things you probably shouldn’t… but are glad someone finally said out loud. 

Daniel Connell’s: Prairie Dog continues Thursday to Sunday nights until 22 March at Le Cascadeur at The Garden of Unearthly Delights