In “Lies I Told My Therapist”, the line between truth and fiction isn’t just blurred — it’s deleted. Even the “sequel” doubles down on chaos and charm.

On the second level of the Comedy Republic, in Melbourne’s CBD, lies an intimate venue to witness Lou Wall dismantle jokes, remix them and beam them through a glitchy projector.

Wall catapults us through a brilliantly messy multimedia maze, complete with screenshots, pixelated punchlines and sly nods to internet culture. One moment you’re giggling at a Better Health quote drop, the next you’re asking: Wait… where is the bed? It’s part stand-up, part existential PowerPoint.

Tall and unapologetically commanding, Wall owns the space — part comic, part poet, part wild-eyed philosopher. The show’s strength is in its language: razor-sharp, rhythmically brilliant, bordering on rap-slam-poetry but never pretentious. The rhymes, soaring pace and the poetry voice had everyone charmed.

There’s a calculated unraveling at play — a conscious dive into the chaos of storytelling in the digital age. Wall knows the audience is craving something real but refuses to deliver it straight. Instead, we’re handed a twisted map of lies, half-truths and punchlines no one has dared to fact-check.

Lies I Told My Therapist is a chaotic, clever hour that leaves you unsure what just happened – but completely sure you loved it.