In Cat in the Bag, Becky Umbers explores the delicate balance between her quirky, weird self and the 'normal' grown-up persona she tries to maintain. With hilarious insights into a life spent wrestling with her own eccentricities, this feel-good comedy show is perfect for anyone who's struggled to keep their inner weirdo hidden. No cats allowed.
In a cosy underground corner of the comedy world, tucked away from the loud and brash, Put That Cat In The Bag by Becky Umbers offers an intimate, wonderfully offbeat hour that’s as warm as it is weird. This isn’t your typical stand-up show. It’s more like being invited into a curious and colourful conversation with your most eccentric friend — the one who’s unafraid to admit that life’s a bit odd and that’s exactly what makes it interesting.
The premise is simple in theory: Becky explores the effort involved in trying to appear ‘normal’ when your natural state is anything but. The “cat” in her title is a stand-in for all her quirks and eccentricities, and the “bag” is the grown-up mask we all try to wear to fit in. The hour plays out as a gently chaotic attempt to explain why that cat keeps getting out — and why maybe it shouldn’t be locked up at all.
From the moment Becky steps on stage, her presence is disarming. Her voice — light, high-pitched, and unmistakably hers — is both a comedic tool and a symbol of her entire show’s theme. In a world where comedians often try to blend in or adopt a certain persona, Becky is gloriously, unapologetically herself. She makes no effort to sound more serious or polished. Instead, she leans right into her natural tone, which at first catches the audience off guard, then steadily earns their affection.
The storytelling is rich with absurd, autobiographical detail. Becky recounts a life filled with minor mishaps and delightful oddities — moments that might seem inconsequential to some but become deeply funny in her hands. There’s a story about her forgetting what farts sound like, another about mistakenly "swallowing" medical tools (the audience winces and laughs in equal measure), and a few hilarious bits about the confusion she causes when people mistake her for a child in public spaces. These tales are not just funny because they’re strange — they’re funny because Becky tells them with a knowing smile and a sharp comedic eye.
One of the standout features of the show is her use of visuals. PowerPoint slides and video snippets weave throughout the performance, adding a layer of wit and creativity that elevates the storytelling. Whether she’s presenting AI-generated images gone wrong or sharing awkwardly specific obsessions of strangers online, the slides act like an additional character in the show — often saying the things she doesn’t, or can’t, say out loud. It’s a gentle reminder that while Becky may come across as scatterbrained or spontaneous, there’s a well-thought-out framework behind the chaos.
She also knows how to play the room. Becky scans the audience in search of those who might identify with her niche references. Are there any “horse girls” in tonight? Any schoolteachers? Trainspotters? Even if none are present, her playful callouts and impromptu detours create a sense of connection — or at the very least, a running joke. Her ability to improvise, adapt, and recover from unexpected moments shows her strength not just as a performer, but as a natural communicator.
The pacing of the show is intriguing. It begins with a slight awkwardness, perhaps deliberately reflecting the theme of someone trying to hold it all together. But as Becky settles in and the audience warms up to her oddball energy, the rhythm smooths out. What first feels a bit scattered gradually comes together as a cohesive, engaging piece of comedy. This progression mirrors the underlying message of the show: that embracing one’s own strangeness is a process, not an instant transformation.
The heart of Put That Cat In The Bag lies in its celebration of the misfit. Becky doesn't just make jokes about being weird — she builds a warm, welcoming space for the weird to thrive. Her comedy isn’t mean or mocking; it’s inclusive. She doesn't position herself above the audience. Instead, she invites everyone to remember their own oddities, to laugh at them, and maybe even to let their own cats out of the bag once in a while.
For those familiar with Becky’s previous work, it’s clear why she’s received the recognition she has. With award nods from both New Zealand and international comedy festivals, she brings a thoughtful and distinctive voice to the stage. Her humour is specific, sometimes niche, but never alienating. Even if you’ve never swallowed a medical device by accident or been mistaken for a primary school student, Becky helps you understand the world through her eyes — and it’s a delightful view.
In a comedy landscape often dominated by sharp-tongued commentary or aggressive crowd work, Becky’s approach is a breath of fresh air. It’s quirky, gentle, and self-aware without ever feeling smug. She knows she’s a bit odd, and she knows you know it too. But rather than apologise or water it down, she runs with it, and in doing so, invites you to do the same.
Put That Cat In The Bag is a show that doesn’t shout for attention but quietly earns it through honesty, imagination, and warmth. It’s a gentle reminder that there’s great comedy in the small, strange corners of life — and even more when you stop trying to keep your quirks hidden. No cats are harmed, but they are certainly encouraged to roam free.
If you're someone who’s ever felt a bit out of place, or just enjoys comedy that comes with a healthy dose of self-deprecation and a dash of PowerPoint magic, don’t miss this show. Becky Umbers is a rare find — and the cat is well and truly out of the bag.
Put that Cat Back in the Bag runs from 14 May - 17 May 2025 at Auckland's Q Theatre, Vault. Tickets can be purchased here
Presented as part of the NZ International Comedy Festival with Best Foods Mayo, from 2 – 24 May 2025