Hummus & Chips

A light, chatty hangout comedy that feels like eavesdropping on friends joking through a webcam, with gentle warmth and little bite.

A light, relatable comedy about adjusting to lockdown life, full of everyday humor and warmth.

A light, funny look at privacy and prejudice that's easy to watch and occasionally stings.

A breezy culture-clash comedy where city folk and villagers trade barbs and slowly learn to coexist.

A breezy, warm little slice of awkward social belonging, quick and light with a gentle sting of age-gap discomfort.

A quick, silly sketch of flatmate friction that plays like a deadpan joke stretched just long enough to land.

A brief, awkwardly funny slice of urban life that makes you squirm and smile at the same time.

A small, warm slice of a young woman's double life, balancing family friction and nightlife with wry humour and quiet weariness.

A warm, gently comic ensemble piece about neighbors coming together, with light pandemic-era humor and a cozy, hopeful mood.

A light, chatty neighbourhood comedy where petty noise complaints between neighbours escalate into a warm, silly culture-clash farce.

A low-key, cringe-comic hangout where awkward social friction and self-absorbed obliviousness slowly build to a quietly funny, uncomfortable payoff.

Like eavesdropping on a relaxed, funny chat between old friends, easy to dip in and out of.