^{Cover Image: Dave Hughes in COOKED, Image supplied.}

Dave Hughes is a different performer in person. 

The comedian who rose to fame on The Glass House and Rove may have made a name for himself on our TV screens, but he’s rarely been allowed to let his potty mouth shine. From the outset at Perth Comedy Fest, it is clear the gloves are off and he’s freer with the swears; his rambling, loveable larrikin persona as relatable as it is laugh out loud funny. 

Hughes’ career is marked by a questionable reluctance to ever turn down a gig. Less inspiring turns such as a stint on I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here where the teetotal vegan was forced to eat a bull’s penis, have brushed up against his well-documented efforts in the AFL Legends charity match playing for Victoria. 

The latter is the subject of his latest show, Cooked, in which the 55-year-old laments five broken ribs and a punctured lung, received at the hands of former AFL players twice his size. “I’ve got 99 problems but being a hero isn’t one of them,” he declares early — quite modestly, given he played on and kicked a goal despite significant internal injuries. 

As Hughesy tells it, opposition coach Shane Crawford had his All-Stars team target Hughes, with well-known hard men Mitch Robinson and Andrew Embley among those who mow him down. But the heart of the show is less about AFL or a vendetta against those who put him in hospital (Embley even appears in an unscripted video call later in the show). Rather, it’s more about Hughes as a human: his early days starting out in Perth, his family life, his personal aspirations, and the way he tackles all the above with a grin. 

It turns out the well-known Carlton Blues fan followed his school days (he was dux at Christian Brothers’ College in Warrnambool) with a stint in WA, playing for the local Scarborough Football Club while he cut his teeth doing stand-up comedy. We come to understand his childhood passion for footy and what it means to line up alongside AFL heroes such as Brendan Fevola. 

The loose narrative arc includes plenty of tangents and insights into life with his wife Holly and their three kids, family holidays to Ireland, and the constant need for validation that leads to him taking on all manner of jobs. Holly only admits to knowing he is hurt when he finally refuses to go back on field despite the crowd chanting “Hughsey!”, testament to his usual need for attention. 

Those who criticise Hughes for being whiny would likely find plenty to whine about here, but his performance leans more self-effacing, in the loveable Aussie tradition. In the end, it’s a career of not taking himself too seriously that’s most endearing, and his quick-witted personality that’s most hilarious. There were genuine laughs for the duration of a set that championed the everyman — a true David vs Goliath comeback story. 

He’s not as strait-laced as his TV persona suggests, either. Describing his non-drinking as loosely due to being a former alcoholic, he’s unafraid to mention a penchant for cannabis edibles, which reportedly make his kids’ school performances infinitely more interesting, while time in hospital is highlighted by conducting interviews while high on morphine. 

It’s enough to make anyone curious about the green whistle—or “heroin in a highlighter!” as Hughes puts it. 

Perth Comedy Festival runs until 17 May 2026.