Florida-born Lara Ricote, a comic with clownish leanings, is the child of a Venezuelan father and a Mexican mother. After many years in the Netherlands, she’s recently moved to the UK. That kind of varied history increases your chances of encountering many different situations.
This could be challenging if seeing more leaves you certain about less. But the MICF blurb for Inkling indicates Ricote’s slant towards optimism as she considers “… how confusing it is to be alive and how wonderful that might be (ok?).”
Despite what a past Gala spot would suggest, the show is more structured and nuanced than much stand-up. Whilst it’s not a laugh riot, patches of this mosaic of ideas will keep some viewers’ minds (especially those with dramaturgical interests) turning over afterwards.
Being vague so as to avoid spoilers, the show’s initial philosophical framing comes from western classical history. Three guiding principles recur in Ricote’s telling of a multi-threaded tale, initially about looking at art with a friend in a London museum. An issue arose as Ricote is “hard of hearing”, and so has hearing aids. The narrative gave us a sense that, just as the technology available to us can place limits on our experiences, so can our attitudes.
By moving between microphones and blackouts, Ricote splits her voice across time. For example, she could speak to us in the present, providing some key detail that we’ll soon need when returning to the museum.
However, the story goes back even before London. A tale of a long-term but troubled relationship gave opportunity for some dark humour on illness and competing interests. Ricote’s very physical style of performing recollections can turn an odd observation into something truly silly to watch.
There was also amusement to be had at Ricote’s relatively recent discovery that she could hang out with hearing-impaired people other than her sister, and annoyance at having one particular relationship take an unwanted turn.
Ricote toyed with her audience at times, creating distance by asserting that, due to her extensive therapy and profession, she has a superior view of humanity. At other times we might get a taste of the isolation Ricote feels in some situations.
Elsewhere her presence is more benevolent, as when sharing a buddhist parable on anger. Water featured here, as it did in other parts of the show, either in moments of clowning or tension. There could be some rapid changes.
If you happened to be fixating on the wrong part of the evolving mosaic at the time, you could easily miss some clue which would bring the intended picture into sharper focus. Then we’re left with trying to discern what’s an important element, or what’s just a red herring (or some red stockings)?
This ambitious non-linear narrative, peppered with a diversity of snippets, risks being perceived as a collection of thought bubbles. Maybe that’s simulating what we experience when forced out of our usual lives, when we are deprived of the associations and rules that normally provide guidance. Then, we might only be able to navigate by our inklings. We could be scared, or could use our new lack of surety as a prompt to grow. The emotional finale shows that Ricote chooses the latter.
Lara Ricote: Inkling
ACMI (Gandel Lab), Federation Square, Melbourne
Performance: Sunday 5 April 2026 (8:10pm)
Season continues to 14 April 2026
Information and Bookings: www.comedyfestival.com.au
Image: Lara Ricote (supplied)
Review: Jason Whyte