Real, raw, and ‘roasting with love’: Bubbah brings the house down at Q Theatre - review

Drinks? Check. Tickets? Check. Vibes? Absolutely. It’s on, or should I say awnnn, for a Friday night in Auckland and the weekend is just starting.

My best friend and I were singing along to Fiji, and I wondered, “Damn, who curated the pre-show playlist? They really know how to warm up the crowd. The atmosphere was set as people filled their seats in excitement and anxious anticipation.

The sold-out crowd packed into Q Theatre’s Rangatira, buzzing with energy for South Auckland’s very own comedic powerhouse: Bubbah, aka Sieni Tiana Leo’o Olo, aka Tina from Turners.

The last time I was at Q Theatre was for Joe Daymond’s comedy mixtape, and now we were back for Bubba’s Pure Mature. There were noticeably more islanders in the room tonight, mingling with the palagi crowd, but you could already anticipate that Polynesian flavour and humour. If you know, you know islanders can be ruthless with their mocks. I had a feeling tonight would be no different. I was ready for the South Side and Sāmoan humour mixed with Bubbah’s charisma and charm.

The opening act was Courtney Dawson, the fire emoji queen from her thirst traps on Instagram. She had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand. “Just in case you’re wondering who the hell this Māori is - it’s me, Courtney Dawson,” she bantered with the audience before hyping everyone up for the main event: “You ready for Bubbah?”

Phones away, drinks up, and everyone on their feet for their favourite hood princess.

That’s how Bubbah opened - on the mic, unseen but a vibe from the get-go, energy levels high. “I’m over here, I’m over here!” she called from within the crowd. It felt like a wrestling entrance; the atmosphere was electric, and everyone was buzzing. The lights were dim, and I had to gather myself because I got lost in the chaotic energy.

Bubbah’s South Auckland pride was loud and proud. “Who’s from West Auckland?” she teased before roasting them, and the crowd laughed as she asked who was from different parts of the city. “Now, who’s from the magical land of Souuuuth Aucklaaaand?” The crowd cheered as she asked who wanted a shot.

Janet(Jackson, she joked) from the audience volunteered, and before you knew it, Bubbah took off her jumper so Janet could take a body shot off her chest. It was crazy and complete chaos, but it made perfect sense in Bubbah’s show and was the ideal way to kick off the night. She took to the stage with her friends, introducing everyone between banter and playful riffs with he crowd.

Real, raw, and proudly Southside. Photo/Johnson&Laird

Bubbah knows how to hype the crowd and make an entrance. She is very comfortable on the mic, warming up by sharing a secret with the crowd: tonight is a freestyle, complete with a play she’s prepared to enact with her friend’s help.

Prepare to embark on a journey with Bubbah as she weaves personal stories, her vivid imagination, unique characters, and her charming jokes with blunt roasts.

For me, it felt less like a formal stand-up show and more like a classic Island roasting session. If you know, you know: when your own family dishes out deadly humour that toes the line between affection and hard truths. Like when she forgot the trays of eggs for a family funeral but would’ve remembered if it was a box of beers - the tension makes it even funnier, and Bubbah knows how to navigate it. Sometimes she teeters on the edge then reigns it back in with a smile.

It’s Bubbah’s natural connection with the crowd that keeps everyone engaged, with random people joining in as if they’re conversing one-on-one with her. “You better pipe down,” she says to someone on the balcony, a repeat offender of calling out throughout the show, until Bubbah asked if they wanted their own mic - then crickets.*

In classic Island fashion, Bubbah’s skit ends with the ultimate punishment: the haircut. Photo/PMN News Mary Afemata

My favourite punchline was when she asked the audience if they watched Celebrity Treasure Island and remembered her elimination,along with a certain person’s demise. Then she innoccently inquired about their current legal issues. That punchline was cutthroat but funny; I nearly got a stitch from laughing. It hit hard, but her gracious ‘just kidding’ afterwards with a “bless him” softened the blow.

Her humour was unfiltered and unapologetic. When someone cheered after she mentioned attending a funeral in Sāmoa, she stopped: “Was that funny? Was that funny?” The room erupted with laughter - classic island humour - the kind that feels like being scolded while trying not to laugh.

Even Palagis couldn’t hold it in. “I love when white people giggle. It's fucking rich,” she said, grinning.

Bubbah described herself as a playful kid with a vivid imagination. Her humour can be dark and even shocking, but you can’t help but laugh because it’s funny. “We roast with love,” she said. “We can only roast when we love.” She also shared her resilience. Yes, she nearly got cancelled, but no, she doesn’t care. If you come for her, she’ll roast you too, even if you’re just a stranger on the internet. Just kidding, she says. Roasting is Bubbah’s love language.

In a powerful finale, Bubbah shaves her head on stage. Photo/PMN News Mary Afemata

There were parts of the show where Bubbah seamlessly transitioned from English to Sāmoan, and it made perfect sense to me because I’m Sāmoan. Even my best friend, who isn’t Sāmoan, was cracking up and following Bubbah’s bilingual script, though I couldn’t translate fast enough for her between my own laughing fits.

I could’ve listened to Bubbah longer, as she had already gone over her set hour. Time flew by, and the organisers told her she only had 10 minutes left. She ended her performance with her friends and, in a climactic moment, started shaving her head. Yep. Was it a Britney moment? Maybe. A breakdown? Definitely not. It was her mic drop.

“I just wanted everyone to know I am freeing myself from the shackles of the industry,” she said as she shaved her head. The audience was enthralled and mesmerised by Bubbah’s boldness.

The haircut wasn’t just a stunt. If “f*** around out and find out” were an action, that’s what it was. Beyond the jokes, Bubbah plays by her own rules. She’s not here to fit into anyone’s box; she does what she wants and keeps it real. I will miss her humour on the comedy scene since she has made it known that she’s moving to Sāmoa.

Pure Mature wasn’t just a comedy show. It was a party, a roast, and a taste of South Auckland’s banter and jokes. It definitely hit the spot - the kind of deep belly laugh that gets your endorphins racing. I was only sad that it ended too soon for my liking. The night was young, and I was keen for more hyena laughs. Bubbah will have you laughing immaturely and reliving the moments on the car ride home.