Charlotte Thornton reviews Redemption, presented by Ginge and Minge at Little Andromeda, Thursday 20 August 2026.
Behind every great idea are a dozen bad ones. Discarding these bad ideas, known as ‘killing your darlings,’ is a painful but important part of the artistic process. They get locked away in the Notes app alongside half-finished to-do lists and old Apple ID passwords, to be forgotten forever. Until now.
Pōneke Wellington comedy duo Ginge & Minge “eat shit ideas for breakfast, lunch, and pussy”. (Their words, not mine, though I wish they were mine.) Each of Redemption’s three segments goes like this: a guest comedian tells us about their failed creative idea, they direct three improvisers in a ten-minute version of that idea, and the audience throws balls at them if they think their idea has been redeemed.
It’s a bizarre concept but it’s remarkably well-executed, with three off-the-wall mini-plays birthed in less than an hour. The improvisers acting out the scenes, dubbed the “vessels”, are PopRox company members Lia Kelly, Millie Osborne, and Austin Harrison, all of whom commit wholeheartedly to every opportunity thrown their way. My MVP for the evening is Harrison, who knows just what to bring to each moment, even if it’s repeatedly spinning on the ground to Enya’s “Orinoco Flow (Sail Away)”.
The hosts themselves sometimes join the scenes, as directors, actors, and musicians. Nina Hogg from Ōtautahi is Ginge, a magnetic emcee whose knowledge of Zohran Mamdani saves the day. Megan Connolly from Australia is the dorky and adorable Minge, who plays the Garth to Ginge’s Wayne. These two have been performing together for years and their trust in each other makes this chaotic show a surprisingly smooth ride.
The best thing about reviewing an improvised show is that it’s impossible to spoil. The evening begins with a superhero courtroom, an idea by Troubadette previously rejected by a class of eight-year-olds. Here it turns into an X-Men love story concluding with a court-ordered waltz. The second idea, from Steve Wilbury, is the most complex: a scientist invents a virus to turn all trees into palm trees, to spread the rational fear of falling coconuts. The scene is a true group effort: Kelly on the keyboard supports great character work from Harrison as a mad scientist, Osborne as a lab assistant, and Ginge & Minge as airheaded influencers. We end in a battle with the scarf industry, and you’ll just have to trust me that it makes total sense.
Surprisingly, this idea is not the night’s strangest. That honour goes to moon boot-clad Tony Chestnut: a drag act about the life cycle of sexy bunnies. Chestnut’s gifted costume pieces kick the show up a notch. Harrison’s fetal rabbit wears a realistic auburn wig, Osborne plays imaginary basketball in a gown, and Kelly’s interpretive divorce dance is made surreal with a giant bunny mask. Chestnut matches the show’s energy perfectly, from the bedazzled gilet to cheeky offers like, “Which one of you can do stunts?”
The format is an ideal fit for Little Andromeda, even if the hosts, director, and performers are a little crowded on the petite stage. The venue allows for easy communication with Caitlin Penhey on lights and sound, who provides some of the evening’s biggest laughs using just a “bonk” sound effect. My only quibble is the voting system: as an audience member you can only vote for one idea, but the votes (balls) are collected and tallied after each individual scene. Ginge notes that the odds are stacked against the final performance, which is the case for Chestnut’s sexy bunny act. I don’t think the show would lose anything by having a celebration after each scene, with a final vote on all three at the end.
I’m splitting hairs, though. As you can tell from scenes described above, Redemption is more variety show than true contest. It’s a ‘good vibes only’ evening comprised entirely of terrific comedians at their very weirdest. What more could you ask for?
Redemption plays until Friday 21 August.
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