Rahul Dua takes a significant artistic risk on Oh Hello!, his new standup special, by streamlining the narrative and limiting himself to only two big set-pieces of similar length. Resisting the lure of easy one-liner fluff, the comedian backs his abilities as a comic storyteller to create two different worlds for the audience to inhabit. The result is a charming and confident debut that, while uneven in parts, offers the promise of much more. It’s a pleasant, breezy watch, the competent writing elevated by Dua’s inviting demeanour and the enthusiasm and commitment of his delivery.

The initial premise is a familiar one. Most of us knew—or were ourselves—people who had to move back in with our parents during the COVID-19 lockdowns. It’s a rich setting, ripe for generation-gap cultural mismatch and comical contradictions. Dua situates the story in his hometown of Ludhiana, painting a warm, loving portrait of his parents, with gentle ribbing and mockery of the many absurdities that define the Indian family home. The material is funny enough: his family’s obsession with tea, for instance, or his mother’s unerring ability to wake up at 5am every morning. Even the special’s title is a proclamation that’s often heard around his house.

There are endearing tropes about middle-class families (“simple living, almost high thinking,” he declares), like the story about sharing a two-seater sofa with his dad, while his mum asks—funnelling the question through him—if his father is hungry. But it’s also the sort of stuff comedians have been riffing on for years, in all its endless variations. It’s not exactly pushing the envelope.

Dua is seemingly betting on relatability, on the universality of these stories and characters. The risk, as always with that intent, is—what if they aren’t that relatable, actually? What if he loses the viewer in those key moments? But Dua’s audience is game, very much ready to take this ride with him. And his theatrical exuberance—an all-in style that is at odds with the dour self-consciousness currently en vogue—certainly helps set the mood. Still, there were moments, where the beats went on a touch too long, the premise overstaying its welcome.

It’s the second half of Oh Hello! where Dua really finds his footing. It starts with a diatribe about hotels, their quicksand bedding and bathrooms with glass walls. Again, comedians talking about hotels is a staple of the genre, an occupational hazard. But in this case, Dua uses it not as an end but a springboard for his next tale. He creates a brand new world inside a fancy hotel near the airport in New Delhi, where he’s stationed for the night with his then-girlfriend. An emergency announcement in the middle of the night kicks off the shenanigans after a fire alarm goes off.

Dua has all the raw materials in place: sharp delivery, tight punchlines, a grasp of rhythm and physicality, and indeed conviction.

Dua, as we learn here, thrives at world-building. He creates a cast of farcical, madcap characters, all joining him on the emergency staircase for the long walk down from the 11th floor. There’s a group of desis trying to take the lift during a fire while the foreigners search for the emergency exit; an annoying child; caricatures of Dua and his partner; uncles speculating on the fire’s cause; even an excitable fan who wants a picture with him. It’s a jam-packed section full of thrilling slapstick and observational departures. Surprisingly, there are even some soft political quips in there. They don’t quite do anything other than work as throwaway punchlines, but it’s interesting to see comedians—in a distinctly non-political set such as this—testing those waters again.

At this point, it’s useful to point out that Dua’s style has a strong north Indian flavour (minus, mercifully, the put-upon foul-mouthed aggression that lesser comics employ indiscriminately). He speaks in the typical bilingual cadence associated with the region which can, depending on one’s appreciation—or tolerance—for that style, either amplify or take away from the material.

Coming back to the story, Dua displays a strong understanding of physical spaces, creating for the viewers a joyride—slowly upping the stakes—from the hotel room to the staircase and, finally, to the conclusion in the lobby. The set is neatly tied together using the “Oh hello!” through-line, with a rather sweet twist right at the end that we won’t spoil.

As a comedian, Dua has all the raw materials in place: sharp delivery, tight punchlines, a grasp of rhythm and physicality, and indeed conviction. So, while there are certainly moments where Oh Hello! falters, particularly in the first half, this debut serves as a fine display of his comedic gifts, offering a tantalising glimpse of his incredible potential.