Headed by Bridie Middleton, our team of reviewers aim to give you an inside look into the latest productions from across Australia! Want to be reviewed by Stage Door Podcast? Send us an email at ps.stagedoor.podcast@gmail.com
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Review by Victoria Luxton
The world premiere of Joanna Erskine’s "People Will Think You Don’t Love Me" is a breathtaking psychological thriller that explores the boundaries of love, loss, and identity. Rooted in Sydney’s unique heartbeat, this production captures both the familiar and the uncanny, drawing audiences into an intimate yet disorienting world. Performed at the compact KXT Theatre near Broadway and presented by Little Trojan in association with Bakehouse Theatre Company, this haunting tale showcases the power of local storytelling in a setting filled with creativity and emotional resonance. KXT’s intimate stage amplifies emotion. Audiences are flanked seated on either side where they can observe not only the actors but also the reactions of those opposite which heightens moments of heartbreak and tension. Sam Wylie’s minimalist set—stacked with packing boxes, a beaten-up couch, an IKEA butcher’s block, and an upright piano—created a sense of claustrophobia and disarray, mirroring the characters’ unravelling lives. The sound design played a pivotal role, underscoring the tension and amplifying the anxiety of pivotal scenes. Subtle hums, sharp crescendos, and haunting silences allowed the audience to ride the emotional waves set by the actors, enhancing the play’s psychological depth. Director Jules Billington masterfully shaped this production, crafting moments of unbearable tension while ensuring the narrative’s emotional core remained intact. The performances were stellar across the board. Grace Naoum, as Liz, delivered an unforgettable monologue about caregiving, loss, and heartbreak, moving many in the audience to tears. Her portrayal vividly captured the torment of loving someone through illness, only to lose them again as they drift into the arms of another. Ruby Maishman’s Tommy brought an electric energy, her raw, edgy presence clashing beautifully with Liz’s yearning for stability. Together, their dynamic embodied the emotional chaos of the story. Tom Matthews as Michael brought depth to his role, with moments of musicality that added layers to his character. His exploration of memory, identity, and a heart that no longer feels fully his created a haunting portrayal of internal conflict. Joanna Erskine’s writing weaves Sydney into the narrative, offering a backdrop that feels deeply Australian while touching on universal questions about identity and love. The concept of cellular memory—whether our passions and memories reside in our hearts or our heads—was explored with nuance and intrigue. For those unfamiliar with the grief of losing a loved one or the turmoil of a transplant, the play offered an empathetic and enlightening lens. I was sat next to a couple who were particularly moved by the moments of care by the character Liz, and I felt like they were perhaps reliving an experience of their own. This show sets up the challenge of what it takes to love someone through illness, how the roles change, and how difficult it can be to come back from that. It’s a unique situation we get an intimate peak into as the audience. "People Will Think You Don’t Love Me" is a gripping, emotionally raw production that lingers long after the final bow. With its brilliant cast, immersive sound design, and layered storytelling, this play is a moving exploration of love, identity, and the mysteries of the human heart. A must-see for anyone looking to be provoked. I found myself discussing the topic long after the show had ended. "People Will Think You Don't Love Me" plays at KXT on BROADWAY until the 30th November.
Photo © Phil Erbacher
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Shakespeare in Love
Review by Victoria Luxton
I love a bit of silly. This show had it in spades! I find myself leaning into whimsy more and more as a welcome escape from the serious issues our world faces. Shakespeare in Love presented at New Theatre in Newtown did tickle my sense of humour. The theatre itself gives me hope- and whenever I see a play there, I am grateful it is running and continuing to present works and seasons, as so many theatres continue to close in Sydney. From the moment the show begins, Shakespeare in Love sets the tone for a boisterous, playful take on the world of Elizabethan theatre. With clever humour, heartfelt performances, and small pockets of giggles, the production is an enjoyable romp, even if it occasionally stumbles in its execution. The comedic elements shine brightly, with the audience laughing out loud at the sharp wit and physical humour sprinkled throughout. The cast delivers their lines with palpable energy, and there’s an undeniable charm to their collective performance. Standout performances include Raechyl French as Kit Marlowe, whose sharp comic timing and grounding presence added depth to the character. Kim Clifton, as Viola de Lesseps, portrayed the character with a tender, sentimental touch that resonated deeply with the audience. Meanwhile, Lynn Roise delighted as the Nurse, bringing infectious humour to the role before seamlessly shifting into the commanding persona of Queen Elizabeth. A highlight of the production was Charlotte Edwards as John Webster, whose melodramatic physical comedy and over-the-top antics consistently had the audience in stitches. The gender-blind casting added a refreshing queer subtext to the production, enhancing the narrative’s exploration of identity and theatrical constraints during Shakespeare’s time. This choice also played beautifully into the themes of love and creative liberty which were central to the story. The production features some truly delightful visual gags, such as a flat cutout of waves being rolled under a 2D boat to mimic the sea and a hilariously lifeless model prop of a dog on wheels—both standout moments that showcased the production’s ingenuity and humour. The set design, created by Rachel Scane, had versatility, particularly in its ability to depict both sides of the “performance at the Globe,” drawing the audience deeper into the theatrical world. The production isn’t without its quirks. The dance breaks, choreographed by Phaedra Brown, were entertaining and cheeky but often felt out of place, adding spectacle rather than narrative value- perhaps that was the point, as often in Shakespeare’s plays, a song appears seemingly out of nowhere- however it felt as if the cast were out of step at times. Paris Jade Burrows’ costume design, though fun, lacked thematic cohesion, with some outfits feeling mismatched or hastily assembled. While the set demonstrated thought and innovation, scene changes were occasionally lengthy, disrupting the momentum of the performance. Additionally, Matthew Forbes’ sound design, though interesting, sometimes overpowered the actors’ lines, creating moments of disconnect between the audience and the story. Despite it all, Shakespeare in Love succeeds in capturing the chaos, passion, and joy of the theatrical world it depicts. With moments of clever humour, heartfelt performances, enthusiastic actors, and inventive staging, this production celebrates the magic of storytelling and the enduring allure of love. A charmingly chaotic blend of love, laughter, and theatrical creativity that will leave audiences smiling and shaking their heads at the silly! Shakespeare in Love is at New Theatre until December 14th. Get tickets here
Photo © Chris Lundie
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Peter and The Starcatcher
Review by Tayla Ham
Peter Pan; or, The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up (J.M. Barrie’s classic tale from 1904) has inspired numerous adaptations and retellings. As a result, most people are familiar with Peter Pan, Captain Hook, and the Lost Boys. Peter and the Starcatcher explores how the story of Neverland and its inhabitants came to be. In Peter and the Starcatcher, a nameless orphan and his two friends are sold and shipped off on a vessel called The Neverland. Onboard, they meet Molly, the daughter of Lord Aster and an apprentice starcatcher. The Neverland is one of two ships transporting identical trunks; one trunk contains the Queen's Treasure, while the other serves as a decoy. The Queen’s Treasure is meant to be sent on The Wasp, accompanied by Lord Aster for protection. When the notorious pirate Black Stache ambushes and takes control of The Wasp, he opens the trunk that is supposed to contain Starstuff. To his shock, and that of Lord Aster, it is not gold or diamonds, it is sand. Black Stache then begins to chase The Neverland and the action kicks off from here. It’s evident that the character of Black Stache was crafted for an actor with exceptional comedic talent. Colin Lane (Lano & Woodley) truly excels in this role. Whenever he broke the fourth wall, addressed the audience directly, or made a contemporary reference, it felt perfectly appropriate. His delivery was smooth and natural, demonstrating his complete command of the stage. In contrast, when other characters attempted similar techniques, it felt somewhat awkward—though this could simply be attributed to the differences in how their characters were written. Featuring the talented Australian comedian Peter Helliar (The Project, How To Stay Married) as Smee, Black Stache’s loyal sidekick, the duo consistently brought laughter to the audience, even when they dropped their lines. The show had that special Disney magic, making the jokes enjoyable for adults and children. During the Broadway run of Peter and the Starcatcher, Molly was the only female in the cast. Even her Nanna, Mrs Bumbrake, was portrayed by a man. This choice emphasised the isolation of girls in Victorian England, particularly those like Molly, who think and act with strength and leadership rather than as followers. The directorial and design team, consisting of David Morton and The Dead Puppets Society, made a conscious decision to implement non-traditional casting to feature more women on stage. Notably, they cast Lord Aster as a woman, with Alison Whyte (Death of a Salesman, Groundhog Day: The Musical, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child) taking on this role. This choice emphasises how much Molly (Olivia Deeble) reflects her father, as evidenced by her costume, which consists of pants rather than a dress. Peter and The Starcatcher is a beautiful ensemble show that showcases the extraordinary talent of every actor. As they take on multiple roles, narrate different lines, sing, dance, operate puppets, and change costumes quickly throughout the performance. Anna Cordingley’s costume design is simple, yet bright and eye-catching. The straightforward changes make it easy to identify each character and their role, while still allowing for unique distinctions between characters. However, the true star of this production is the set and props. The Dead Puppet Society has created an immersive world featuring over 90 puppets, including Starstuff butterflies, a giant crocodile, and a colossal mermaid tail for Teacher (John Batchelor). Although simple, the set design relied heavily on the movement of the actors, lighting, and props, creating a dynamic experience that feels like it is always moving. The production vividly brought to life the two ships and the island, featuring multiple locations across the two acts. By incorporating the band into the set and moving them around the stage to help establish different locations, they became an integral part of the ensemble cast, contributing to the brilliance of this production. Peter and The Starcatcher is a captivating play that showcases impressive stagecraft, including its sets and puppetry. The production wonderfully balances comedy with dramatic moments that unfold throughout the story. This play (with music) is truly special, and if you have the opportunity to see it, you definitely should.
Photo © Daniel Boud
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Us/Them
Review by Grace Cooper
Us/Them is a tender and unique performance addressing the real-life events of the 2004 Beslan School Siege. Originally premiered in 2017 for Edinburgh Fringe, this is the first time the show has been brought to Australia at Flight Path Theatre. Belgium writer, Carly Wijs, has written a powerful one-hour performance based on frightening historical events. The story follows two young students, Boy (Sam Martin) and Girl (Rebekah Parsons), who find themselves caught in a siege. They are among 1,100 people, including 777 children, taken hostage at School Number One in Beslan, Russia, on the first day of the school year. I went into the theatre not knowing anything about the Beslan School siege. As the storyline unravelled, I learnt I was just two when this devastation occurred. It was disappointing to see the theatre not even half full for opening night. Sam Martin and Rebekah Parsons did not let some empty seats impact their strong leading performances. Both actors’ portrayal of the school children was nuanced and delicate; the characterisation was so strong and built with clear physical mannerisms (like rolling around in the chalk). These actors skilfully portrayed a range of other characters, narration and even moments of hallucinations. This fast-paced show encompasses the experience of the young children with fluidity in a narrative that really took us on a journey. The direction of Sammy Jing and Jess Ramsey guided a strong tone of the piece alongside the eerie sound design by Andy Freeborn. Set and costume designer Elle Fitzgerald made simple but effective costume choices. But the set was a real stand-out. The set was built meticulously to create tension. What looks like an empty stage is a chalkboard of possibilities, where the actors have full range to play and draw across the stage. The string across the stage represents the wires that outlined the school where in one movement the string could be touched and a bomb could be set off. This staging would be tricky to work with as an actor to not hit the strings accidentally, but the actors performed brilliantly within the set. This show has huge potential and I would love to see some more publicity to gain more audience traction! I would love to see this production in a larger independent theatre in Sydney because I think that full audiences would really draw an impact for a work that deserves to be seen by many. All elements of this show worked so well together, I have not been this captured by a theatre show in so long. The cutting-edge script, unique set design and experienced actors had us all on the edge of our seats and hearts out for the students’ survival. I commend the team for producing such a compelling performance of this script. Us/Them is on for a limited time until the 9th of November. I highly recommend going to see this intriguing show.
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Love
Review by Bridie Middleton
Love by Patricia Cornelius is a gritty take on love, addiction and survival. The emerging independent group, Salad Days Collective, has delivered a powerful interpretation of this raw and challenging script. The whole team at Salad Days Collective are to be commended for treating Cornelius’s script with such care and detail, bringing out its powerful relevance even after more than 20 years since it was first written. Annie (Georgina Sawyer) and Tanya (Jasmine Prasser) are entrenched in vulnerable environments, where the instability of poverty and drug addiction permeates every aspect of their lives. Amongst the harsh realities, Annie and Tanya have each other. They cling to their relationship for survival where each I love you seems to have the weight of glue strong enough to hold everything together. Both Sawyer and Prasser delivered strong performances throughout the whole piece. We get to be up close to these actors and there wasn’t a moment where I wasn’t drawn to their detailed expressions. The pacing of the dialogue was directed so organically, though, I felt there was room to explore more of the comedic elements in Cornelius's script through the early interactions between Annie and Tanya to make the later scenes punch harder. In saying this, there were so many moments where I wanted to just sit with these characters and hold space for their trauma, which really highlights the work of the talented pair of actors. The narrative shifts when Tanya goes to jail, and a young man called Lorenzo moves into the shared bed with Annie. Leo Buzac delivers a cheeky yet intimidating performance and really plays with the comedic opportunities within the script. Buzac skilfully leans on physicality and cliché phrases to shape Lorenzo, giving us a strangely likeable portrayal. Buzac’s charm was such a strong presence in every scene and I was absolutely drawn to his performance. The playful approach contrasted so sharply against the abusive nature of Lorenzo and the characterisation crafted distinct discomfort for audiences. While individual performances were strong overall, the play's emotional depth hinges on the relationships among the three characters. There was an opportunity to articulate the evolving dynamics between each pair more clearly. Capturing these complex interactions can be particularly challenging for young actors, and at times, I struggled to perceive a responsive dynamic among them. This lack of connection left me wanting a deeper sense of intimacy between the characters to highlight the dependency they had on each other. While the sense of isolation created an impactful atmosphere, tighter direction on moments of intimacy and scene transitions could have significantly enhanced the overall chemistry of the three. I appreciated so many aspects of the technical side of this production. I love VENTspace in Brisbane/Meanjin, and I found the location highly effective for creating an immersive experience. The use of couches for audience seating added a unique, intimate touch, and even the roll of the garage door pulled us deeper into the atmosphere of the play. The set is simple with bare wooden planks and a sheetless bed. This felt intentionally cold and amplified a desolate mood. It also provided natural acoustics that heightened movement sounds from the actors. The visual design by Ziggy Enoch was particularly striking, as the imagery swarmed across the blank surfaces and added a haunting layer to the production. I was particularly drawn to the repeating monologues where Annie is on the edge of the set which made me adore the ending. I love the ambiguity of these scenes. This was where the directing, acting and lighting worked so well as a combined strength. Although Love is a long one-act play, I felt we could have sat in moments like Annie’s monologues longer. Perhaps that is my personal preference for theatre that edges outside the real, but I do commend the team for being able to command such gripping moments. I am loving the compelling work that Salad Days Collective are creating in Meanjin and am excited for their next season of work. Love plays at VENTspace until 3rd Nov.
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Six The Musical
Review by Tori Bullard
A Regal Riot of Pop and Power Forget everything you know about Henry VIII’s wives, because Six the Musical is rewriting history with sass, soul, and spectacle at the Theatre Royal Sydney. This isn’t your typical lesson in Tudor history – it’s an electric, unapologetic pop concert that reclaims the voices of the six wives of Henry VIII, giving each queen her moment to stand centre stage and set the record straight. And these Aussie queens are absolute fire. Kimberley Hodgson commands attention from the moment she steps out as Catherine of Aragon, the first wife and the queen who was cast aside for a younger bride. Hodgson’s vocal range is jaw-dropping, moving from powerful belting to soulful refrains, all wrapped up in a performance filled with strength and defiance. With every note, she’s defiant yet dignified, a blend of sass and grace that’s impossible to ignore. Then there’s Deirdre Khoo as the famously flirtatious Anne Boleyn, who is all cheek and charm with a voice that hits you like a bolt of lightning. Khoo brings an energetic, feisty edge to the role that’s cheeky, endearing, and downright fun. Her portrayal of Boleyn is irresistibly playful, making it easy to see why she’s a personal favourite for many. She brings a wonderful blend of humour and mischief that lights up the stage. Loren Hunter reprises her role as Jane Seymour, the third wife and supposedly “only one he truly loved.” Hunter has a knack for tugging on the heartstrings, shifting effortlessly from hilarious one-liners to heart-wrenching vulnerability. Her soulful, raw vocals bring a unique texture to the show, and her performance as Seymour is both grounding and deeply moving. She’ll have you laughing one minute and reaching for tissues the next, all while making you question the legacy that history handed Jane. As Anna of Cleves, Zelia Rose Kitoko is pure confidence and swagger. In a role that’s equal parts regal and rebellious, she brings a magnetic presence, strutting through her scenes with an attitude that redefines royal power. She’s not just “the German princess” who was cast aside – she’s a queen who knows her worth and shows it with every sly smile and commanding stance. Kitoko brings gravitas and energy to the role, making Cleves a true force on stage. I’d be her “lady-in-waiting” any day! Chelsea Dawson brings real depth to Katherine Howard, the youngest and perhaps most misunderstood of Henry’s wives. Often dismissed as the “temptress” who met a tragic end, Howard’s story is one of resilience, strength, and complex vulnerability. Dawson’s portrayal is electrifying, capturing both Howard’s youthful innocence and her tragic fate with nuance and power. Her rendition of “All You Wanna Do” peels back layers of a character who has often been reduced to a single note, making us reconsider everything we thought we knew about her. Finally, Giorgia Kennedy steps into the shoes of Catherine Parr, Henry’s final wife and the one who ultimately survived him. Kennedy’s voice is as smooth as silk, soaring through each note with effortless power. She brings a grounded, soulful presence to the stage, capturing the essence of a woman who was more than just “the survivor.” She’s the queen who brought her own legacy to the table, standing tall and belting out notes that resonate long after the final chord. These incredible queens aren’t alone on stage – they’re supported by their dynamic “ladies in waiting,” the all-female band that brings just as much character and charisma to the show. Led by Music Director Claire Healy on keys, with Kathryn Stammers on drums, Danielle Colligan on guitar, and Ann Metry on bass, this band is as much a part of the action as the queens themselves. They provide the pulse of the show, adding energy, edge, and character to every beat, riff, and rhythm. Together, they’re a vital part of what makes Six such a high-energy, unforgettable experience. What’s truly brilliant about this production is how it’s evolved with each new cast. Six has seen countless iterations worldwide, and every queen brings her own twist, making each version fresh and fiercely original. This Aussie cast not only honours the humour and tragedy woven into the show but also brings a unique local flavour, leaning into the pop, fun, and drama in a way that feels authentic and powerful. It’s history as you’ve never seen it before, and this cast is determined to make sure you never forget it. Six the Musical is a show that’s impossible to pigeonhole – it’s part concert, part comedy, part history, and all heart. Whether you’re a history buff, a theatre enthusiast, or just in for a night of brilliant storytelling and powerhouse vocals, this show has something for everyone. With humour, emotion, and a soundtrack that’ll have you dancing out of the theatre, Six is a five-star hit you won’t want to miss.
Photo © James D. Morgan
McGuffin Park
Review by Grace Cooper
Light-hearted politics squashed in a small regional town, McGuffin Park is a playful take on small town quirks and regional government. Performed at Ensemble Theatre, in Kirribilli with a picturesque view over the water, this play transports Sydney audiences to a fun political journey sprinkled with unmistakable Aussie humour and flair. When the Major drops out only a week before the midterm election, tension erupts between two high school friends, Fiona and Jack, who are also councillors as they battle for the role of Major. With town secrets waiting to be exposed and friendships on the line, the plot is simple yet cleverly crafted to grab our interest. As a compelling ensemble piece, we follow a vibrant and diverse range of eight characters with just five actors, Eloise Snape (Fiona), Shan-Ree Tan (Jack), Thomas Campbell, Jamie Oxenbould and Lizzie Schebesta. Many of these talented actors embody the multiple characters well and lead rich portrayals of each. The characterisation choices were developed in an impressive way that anchored us throughout. There was distinct clarity in each different character, where the actors switched roles with effective use of signposting with individual costume items. This impactful technique particularly suited the script and built a strong sense of community within the world. I commend the ensemble as a whole, and direction from Mark Kilmurry for the clear vision. Even though this performance was comedic, on a deeper level, there was underlying commentary on the influence of power and selfishness in politics today. The work harnesses Bertold Brecht dramatic techniques and acknowledges this throughout. Elements of narration and breaking the fourth wall, recognising that this is a play, elevating the performance. This took me back to my year 12 drama days when I was first introduced to this style of performance. I can see this show being a hit for HSC students due to the clear connection to theatre practices, ensemble work and the reflection of Australian politics. It is obvious the Director (Mark Kilmurry) and Playwright (Sam O’Sullivan) have worked tirelessly to produce this polished performance with clear direction and a well-written script that gained large moments of audience reaction. At times, the audience's laughter was so loud we missed the delivery of lines that proceeded. Perhaps it was the small theatre acoustics or the piece that just resonated too hard with the audience! Nevertheless, the wit of this Australian work was a hit with audiences. McGuffin Park is running till the 23rd of November
Photo © Prudence Upton
Flat Earthers
Review by Victoria Luxton
Enter the glowing world of emojis, Likes, cyber wars, armageddon, conspiracies and lesbian love. A co-production by The Hayes Theatre and Griffin Theatre, Flat Earthers: The Musical hurled the packed audience through a wormhole of digital delight and launched a spectacular show into season. In a world full of fake news and conspiracies, Flat Earthers feels like a fun fanfic musical with upbeat and poppy tunes, slick choreography and plenty of “awww” moments. The set transforms the Hayes, cutting the stage in half with it’s half-moon, glowing archway lined with long drapes of white fringe- a clever concept by Brockman who has mastered a tricky technical element by allowing the actors the opportunity to interact and move through the set with ease but equally project images and frames for which they can appear online. Often actors would need to be on the exact mark with an ever-evolving video design (Daniel Herten and Xanthe Dobbie) and they nailed it each and every time, an element of which would have taken such effort in a technical rehearsal to perfect. Our story follows our protagonist Ria who is played by Shannen Alyce Quan with such honesty and heart. Ria is doing their best to keep up with a sassy and dominating online group of friends the Debunkers who smash conspiracy theories and live stream to their ever growing account of online followers. The book and lyrics are tickling in so many ways- quick quips, undeniable sarcasm and roasting with stunning patterns and rhymes. I was delighted by the soundtrack with strong poppy belting, femme rap solos and all executed with crisp diction and boss confidence. Choreography by Fetu Taku was perhaps one of the highlights of the show and really allowed the cast to shine. Keeping the moves strong, punchy and cool, Taku gave each head flick and body roll the opportunity to showcase the incredibly talented and diverse cast. I found myself shimmying and dancing in my seat. Ria soon meets Flick online, played with such an earnest sweetness by Manali Datar, and the pair begin to go through a cute and awkward social exchange of coming of age lesbian flirting. What Ria doesn’t realise is that Flick is a Flat Earther and lives in a bunker with her two mums: Lena Cruz as Ma Fiona and Amanda McGregor as Mum Freya. As is the case with a large amount of social media misinterpretations and snowballs, Ria gets caught up in a lie while trying to impress and engage in a dating scheme with Flick and slowly she is living a huge lie, gets dumped socially by the Debunkers and starts her own social account pretending to be a Flat Earther and gaining popularity and followers by capitalising on other impressionable groups who tend to go wherever the wind blows on fake news and troll the internet. We soon learn that the growing popularity and attention on social media that Ria is gaining has got the attention of none other than the Illuminati leader herself Mz Prism- played exceptionally evilly by Michelle Brasier along with her slurpy loving cronies (the cast look like they’re having an absolute ball! And equally, us as the audience share the camp joy and craziness with delight!) Brasier is the ultimate villain, dressed exceptionally by Emma White (Costume Designer) in acid green corsetry, black glittered tights and a sense of the melodramatic. Brasier’s voice was incredibly powerful and she moved through her multiple characters like a chameleon throughout the show, bringing exceptional comic timing, maniacal laughter and magnetic presence. The delightful plot twist is connecting the past between Flick’s Mums and Mz Prism’s history- in life before the two descended to the bunker and became Flat Earthers. The second act is a race against time and competing emotions and conspiracies and the audience prepares themselves for an Armageddon like no other! I was on the edge of my seat and clutching my belly with laughter. Showcasing lesbian love in such a way that had the audience clutching their hearts and beaming, as well as introducing polyamory and queer families- the characters are excellent representation in a show that is mainly camp and silly. This show will make you belly laugh, connect and delight in young love and sapphic flirting and drop your jaw with impressive vocals. Flat Earthers: The Musical is a show you’d want to bring your friends to. It has something for everyone in it and really does make a social commentary on how literal online trolls and conspiracy theorists can take fake news, how fast the news travels, how popularity can go up and down and that popularity and social status is power in an online world. Run to the Hayes, see Flat Earthers: The Musical and prepare to leave beaming.
Photo © John McRae
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RUINS أطلال
Review by Grace Cooper
Ruins أطلال is an intriguing and emotionally charged performance at The Downstairs Theatre at Belvoir St Theatre for 25A. The 40-minute piece is a fast-paced performance that closely explores the close-knit relationships with homelands, migration to Australia, culture and family through physical expression. Ruins is presented with Clockfire Theatre, an independent theatre company based on physical improvisation and ensemble collaboration driven by their training at Jacques Lecoq Theatre School. This company is run by two of the performers, Emily Ayoub and Madeline Baghurst. Ayoub and Baghurst are the writers and directors of Ruins; their expertise and experience with movement and physical theatre was clearly reflected in this performance. Amelia Alyssa (Emily Ayoub) plans a trip to Baalbek in Lebanon, a place of family history for herself. On her journey there her dad, Joe (Tony Poli) shadows her and narrates the performance inferring his recent death. This was a trip they had planned together. In a moment of a flashback, Alyssa is locked out and bangs on a door when Joe, her father, dies by Alyssa’s daughters side. This moment was striking - extremely emotionally charged and intense. The shock created tears in my eyes due to the incredible delivery from Ayoub. The intimate connection between these characters was admirable and was expressed particularly through this emotionally driven scene. Alongside these characters, there are three ensemble members. Adam Al Kuheli, Madeline Baghurst and Piumi Wijesundara transform into different characters (verbal and non-verbal) whilst creating a range of shapes with their bodies. With only minimal props, a desk and a door are creatively converted into other objects to guide the audience. The staging was impressive, pushing the performers' bodies physically to reflect creative storytelling. Within such an intimate theatre, the ensemble members were seen with sweat dripping off their faces and were fully committed to the performance. The play’s style differs from a realism linear performance where depictions and purpose left room for interpretation and creative understanding for the audience rather than being force-fed a storyline. It explored spiritual connection and a strong history of the Baalbek ruins. As an audience member who is less familiar and has had less exposure to physical theatre, I felt there were moments of obscurity regarding the storyline that kept me thinking and questioning throughout the performance. The strong emotions explored were at times overwhelming for such as fast 40 minutes, where I felt more time to sit in these moments could result in a deeper audience connection. Other performance elements like sound and video design elevated the performance. On the stage there was a live flauntist that seamlessly blended with the soundscape. The incorporation of an embedded soundscape underneath the whole performance, and the usage of a child's voice progressed the storyline and united well. The video design by Laura Turner was impressive, transporting us to Baalbek. The videos were not only used on the wall but on props like a piece of silk fabric and the door, creating clear and creative imagery of the location for the audience. Ruins is an emotionally-driven movement performance that explores the cultural experience of many migrant Australians whilst continuing exploration of their own heritage. Conceived and Co-directed by Emily Ayoub and Madeline Baghurst Written by Emily Ayoub, Madeline Baghurst and Mine Cerci Ruins is running from 1-20 October
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Lady Macbeth Played Wing Defence
Review by Tayla Ham
What do Macbeth and a driven high school netball player have in common? Nothing (you may think!). However, the new Australian musical, "Lady Macbeth Played Wing Defence," presented by Crash Theatre Company at the Melbourne Fringe Festival, hilariously proved that notion wrong. As the Dunsinane Hellhound's school netball team prepares for the inter-school tournament, Macbeth (Orla Poole), known as Mac for short, is eager to be named captain. However, when Coach Duncan (Courtney McManus) selects Chloe MacDuff (Shannon Rogers) as the captain instead, Mac becomes distraught. She sees visions of the Dagger Divas, who predict that Mac will be captain because it is "written in the court lines." They imply that she just has to "take a swing at blondie" first. Unlike her Shakespearean counterpart, Mac plans her revenge and her path to the captainship by spreading rumours, causing injuries, lying, blackmailing, and using hurtful words. The Crash Theatre Company's new take on the Shakespearean classic Macbeth is a hilarious blend of classic quotes from Macbeth with modern wording. The audience always gets a laugh, especially when the quotes are placed in random but fitting places, almost as if the characters are slipping into Shakespearean voice. The book of this show is fantastic – McManus has done a wonderful job mixing Aussie sports culture and Shakespeare into one show. The show features many high-energy, catchy pop-style musical numbers composed by Bec Price, with lyrics written by Ana Ferreira Manhoso, McManus and Price. Several of these songs are closely connected to the original Macbeth, especially the ones performed by The Dagger Divas, In Thunder, Lightening or in Rain, which echo the prophecies given by the witches in the play. The choreography by Rogers was extraordinary, and the way the entire cast executed it added to the overall perfection of the show. Trap a Rat, one of the highest-energy dance numbers, stood out as a highlight of the entire performance. The cast of only eight were all complete triple-threat performers. The ditzy and confused Brooke Ross (Georgia McGivern) was always funny whenever she was on the stage, especially during Claire The Hair. Her commentary and facial expressions throughout the performance, about how the others knew the song and choreography while she didn't, were just perfect. Ashley Donlbain (Emily Semple) was amazing playing against her. Her deadpan "I don't want to be here" expression didn't leave her face for the entire show. In addition, Summer Banquo (played by Kate Sisley), an exceptional singer featured in Here If You Need, portrayed a gentle and kind-hearted character, contrasting with Poole's Mac, who became increasingly cold-hearted as the show progressed. During Poole's solo moments, she would often engage in self-reflection, delivering Shakespearean lines in a way that never failed to elicit a chuckle from the crowd. Her flawless delivery of the iconic Macbeth lines, combined with her impressive singing voice, truly brought Mac to life on stage. The audience laughed the whole way through this one hour piece (which wasn’t long enough!!). Even though there have been so many different adaptations of Macbeth, not one other production has this edge of universality- Shakespeare lovers, haters and everything in between- this show really has something for everyone. Unfortunately, it was an extremely short run at The Melbourne Fringe Festival - October 2nd to 4th. But if you see this show advertised anywhere else, don’t hesitate to get tickets.
Photo © @kdariusphotography
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Anomalies
Review by Ashlyn Hunter
Three young descendants of Earth’s billionaires stuck in the east wing of a space station – what could go wrong? Directed by Matt Bostock, the world premiere production, ‘Anomalies’ is showcased with the inaugural New Works Festival at The Old Fitz Theatre. Bostock and playwright, Jordyn Fulcher bring existentialism and jarring questions of humanity to the audience as we watch three young teenagers come face-to-face with the wrongdoings of their ancestors. Caught in a revenge plot for their ancestors’ crimes, the teenagers wake up in a daze as they find themselves abandoned in the drawing room of the spaceship they live on – cut off from the rest of the ship. Only ever raised on the ship surrounded by each other, the audience soon figures out the tension between each of the characters, and especially as stakes rise and they start to tackle their beliefs of humanity and their contradictions of justice and duty. The tension found between Harold Phipps and Giani Fenech’s characters was palpable from the get-go. What is thought to just be light-hearted tension at first further unravels the suppressed love and attraction they have been holding for each other their entire lives. We watch them battle with their ideas of what love is, and whether they can even feel it in the first place considering the environment and people who raised them. The relationship and character arc for each character was insightful, particularly Rhiaan Marquez’s character; not just the dumb girl she has been made out to be – you see her emotional intelligence and her longing for humanity play out as a key part of the piece. The set design and use of lighting was one of the key highlights – shown from the beginning of the piece with the innovative use of lighting and design for the spaceship computer system, ‘T’ – the virtual caretaker of the children that enthrals the audience the whole way through. One of my favourite uses of lighting design was the visualisation of the collapse and breaking down of the spaceship. It was magic how quickly you become utterly engulfed in the madness of the spaceship losing oxygen and start to feel as though you are truly watching this spaceship blow up. Ultimately, it was harrowing observing each character come to their questions of humanity whilst you watch their bond for each other strengthen as they come together in their last moments. It was a feeling that stuck with me for the rest of the night. Playwright, Jordyn Fulcher embraces diverse voices and encourages it in this impactful piece of theatre. Although at times it felt as though the dialogue needed a bit more direction, ‘Anomalies’ was an interesting and humanising watch that will leave you with your own questions of humanity. Anomalies was performed in Old Fitz Theatre's New Work Festival 2024 September 20- October 5.
Square
Review by Grace Cooper
The one-woman play ‘Square’ is a hilarious exploration into the life of 22-year-old Esme Square. Square is a short 45-minute play, tucked away in a small theatre, seating thirty within Erskinville Town Hall. The play deep dives into clichès, stereotypical and common experiences of young adults in their early twenties. I could not stop myself from laughing due to the sheer relatability of Esme's experiences to my own! Following Esme for one week we see her explore friendships, moving cities, enduring a breakup and cutting her own bangs. The week starts as Esme moves to Sydney from Brisbane, with parts of her Queensland life still following her and encountering challenges along the way. Rachel Thomas is the writer and performer, transforming into over eight characters throughout the performance. Her physical connection and commitment to each character were impressive. Madi Phoenix's direction amplified Thomas’ performance. Thomas’ comedic delivery was well executed. The stage was tiny with lots of props and a soundscape that was a well-suited background to the performance. This show has great potential, but it could be developed further with more spacious staging or minimising props- at times the blocking felt squished. The soundscapes could be integrated more to assist with flashbacks and signify each day to make the distinction serve the narrative more effectively. The show could benefit from refining the narrative, particularly in the clarity between characters, flashbacks and present tense to make it flow better. At its core, Square celebrates change, letting go and embracing who you are. Square is a goofy and fun show, all about experiencing life and everything that comes with it in your twenties. Square is being performed at Erskinville Town Hall till September 28th.
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Cost of Living
Review by Tayla Ham
Theatre serves as a platform for portraying life stories. However, many real-life stories are often considered too complex to be presented on stage. However, the 2018 Pulitzer Prize-winning play The Cost of Living, directed by Anthea Williams and performed by the Melbourne Theatre Company, focuses on the intricate and interconnected experiences of disability, caregiving, and of course, the cost of living. As the stage revolves, the contrast between affluence and living on disability payments becomes incredibly evident through the story of Eddie ( Aaron Pedersen) and Ani (Rachel Edmonds). Ani lives in a small, cramped space, which Eddie calls a "paper bag" when he visits to tell her he misses her. The accident that caused her paralysis occurred while they were technically separated, and Ani, clinging to her independence, is still determined to get a divorce. When Ani's nurse doesn't show up to help feed her, Eddie is called as her emergency contact. He convinces Ani to let him try being her caregiver despite their fractured marriage, even if it's just for a week. The Melbourne Theatre Company deserves congratulations for showcasing a play that addresses the challenges of living with a disability and the influence of wealth on disability care. These are often unfamiliar and confronting topics for many people without disabilities. Furthermore, the inclusion of disabled individuals and caregivers in both the cast and directorial team ensured the authenticity of the characters due to the lived experience of so many of the creatives involved. One of the most impactful scenes of the show involved of Li shaving, showering, dressing and transferring Pizzey Stratford, just as many real carers do daily. All live on stage, in front of an audience, without any music underscoring the scene, just conversation between Li and Pizzey Stratford. While this is such a mundane task, the energy in the audience felt almost shocking that this was being done on stage. Ani is still resentful and “pissed” about the accident and takes it out on Eddie. Edmonds is outstanding in this role, using just their facial expression and voice to express the full range of anger, grief, resentment, and even a little bit of joy. Edmonds also repeatedly had the audience laughing, calling Eddie a “prick” after each nice thing they said about him in the tender moment of Pedersen bathing them. Thanks to Amy Cater's intimacy coordination, the raw, intimate moments in both storylines felt natural and real. The bathing scene between Ani and Eddie especially walks the line between consent and caregiver abuse, because how could Ani consent to something that she couldn’t feel or know was happening? Even if they were married before Ani’s accident, as she says, it's a new body and a new me. However, this entire scene was handled beautifully by both Edmonds and Pedersen. The set design by Matilda Woodroofe was beautiful, featuring three different sets on a revolve. The opulence of John’s character was evident, as his bathroom alone occupied the same space as Ani’s entire apartment. Two of the three sets were dedicated to John’s extravagant and modified apartment, complete with elegant furnishings, an elevator at his doorstep, and sliding doors leading into his bathroom. In contrast, Ani’s small apartment was visibly deteriorating, with walls starting to come away from the frame in some places and poorly done insulation exposed for the audience to see. Richard Vabre's use of very naturalistic lighting gave the play a lifelike feel, making it seem like we were observing real life unfold. These were genuine stories that play out in the real world every day because they are. The Cost of Living delves into the topic of disability, but it's ultimately about much more. It explores the essential needs of humans for survival, encompassing not only the financial aspect but also the emotional and physical toll of existence. Both Ani and John express their desire to be seen beyond their disabilities by stating, “Don’t interrupt me!” to their scene partner in their initial meeting. However, The Cost of Living reveals that all four characters share emotional needs and vulnerabilities, as they reach out in search of connection in this lonely world. The Cost of Living is an extraordinary show that handles disability with the love and respect that it deserves, and if you can get to see it, you should. Hopefully, this is the first step toward having more disabled people in the theatre industry and on our Australian stages, not just in shows that are centred around disability. Cost of Living is on until the 19th October at Melbourne Theatre Company.
Photo © Pia Johnson
Iris
Review by Ashlyn Hunter
The Sydney Fringe welcomes IRIS, a theatrical and creative piece that explores the downward spirals of Iris’s inner most thoughts in this one-person show. Through physical theatre, dance and monologue, Performer Michelle Fry and Director, Clementine de la Hunty dissects themes of guilt, despair and the acts of self-care that sends the audience members on a downwards spiral with Iris. Presented by The Dead Fruit Theatre Co, Fry’s performance is thought-provoking and enthralling. We watch Iris question herself and whether she’s actually a bad person, presenting herself with existential and impending questions like, “how do you know if you’re a bad person?” or “how do you answer when someone asks you ‘who are you?’ – do you answer with your name, occupation, hobbies?”, or possibly my favourite question, “how do you know whether you’re just a sociopath who’s just really good at tricking themselves into thinking they have empathy?” Simultaneously hilarious and provocative – the questions Iris is asking herself translates so closely to the human experience and the questions I’m sure we have all asked ourselves at some point, and it had me on the edge of my seat. There wasn’t an extravagant set; a white sheet hung up as a backdrop with a projector accompanied with a singular pen, journal and a few milk crates. Nor was there over-the-top costume – a simple pair of leggings and a shirt. This is what I loved about it and what I think translated so well that this is Iris’s raw spirals and thoughts – cause really, who’s spiralling and rotting in anything extravagant? Although there wasn’t much, this isn’t to be mistaken for the space not being used creatively, thoroughly and in a thought-out manner. From propping milk crates to describe different sceneries and using the white backdrop and projector to visually display videos of another version of Iris talking to herself on stage. There was certainly no dead-space in this performance. The backdrop was a creative field that projected Iris’s inner voice and translated her stories and spirals physically. One of the best uses of this backdrop was Fry’s use of dance and physical theatre. Where a projection of Fry dancing on the backdrop played with themself dancing as their own partner; it was an intimate dance with Iris and her thoughts, and the audience watches Iris’s thoughts and body flow symbiotically. At times, I thought this was the most impactful part of the piece – ironically the moment without any words is what really spoke to me. Personally, one of the most memorable and relatable moments was Iris describing the self-obsession she grapples with on a day-to-day basis as she narrates her inability to fall asleep at night – she’s too enthralled with watching her life like she watches a TV; her highlights, the B-side of her existence, the deleted scenes and the alternate endings all engulf her. This was a leading moment that encapsulated Iris’s unembellished, honest and raw thoughts that truly spoke and connected the audience to Iris. An hour has never felt so short – I was encapsulated with Fry’s performance and their ability to use a space so creatively. I always find there is an electric energy in the air of a Fringe show – whether it’s the friendship buzzing around, or the observation that all walks of life are coming to see this indie theatre – and IRIS wasn’t any different. I would definitely recommend seeing this before it ends! Iris is on until the 21st September Sydney Fringe 2024.
Karate Man
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
The Sydney Fringe Festival always brings out the most creative, subversive, and original independent works of the year in Sydney. The platform that this festival gives fresh theatrical talent cannot go understated, and it’s always so refreshing to see the kind of angles that creatives go for with their work. That’s why I went into Karate Man completely blind, and came out a shocked and changed person. What an utterly, utterly hilarious and original 50 minutes I had just spent. Karate Man: A Live Action Video Game doesn’t just borrow the aesthetics of video games, or the themes often seen in them, but it well and truly lives up to its title as a theatrical production where the audience can manipulate the protagonist via a video game controller. Like, there’s really no metaphor here. The audience passes around a controller and you move left and right, creating audio that signals the immensely talented Bruno Dubosarsky to follow suit. Over the course of the story, bluetooth controller in tow, audience members determine the course of the story as Karate Man, his nemesis Ross Roundkick - now dead, comes to terms with living a karate free life. From making Karate Man pick between mundane chores to what jobs to apply for in a series of increasingly hilarious and contrived video-game-esque plot devices, the show that you see will very likely wind up differently to the one I did. The actors on stage are all sublimely gifted with improv, and this plus the very deliberate “low budget 80’s video game” style means that any hiccups or stage mishaps are played up for laughs really well. Occasionally, a controller malfunction of misread line wouldn’t be capitalised on, and the show seemed to slow down for a moment and temporarily lose the audience from the trance we had been instilled in, but this was only a temporary break from an otherwise consistently hilarious show. This is one of the highlights of Fringe, a subversive and incredibly novel piece of interactive theatre, worth a solid 4.5 stars.
Green Scenes
Review by Grace Cooper
Green Scenes is a showcase with the aim of provoking discussion of climate change and current environmental issues through theatre and live performance works. The show had one performance only, free of charge at The Old Fitz Theatre in Woolloomooloo on Sunday afternoon that provoked thought on my own actions regarding the environment. In collaboration with Blinking Light Theatre, the afternoon involved 11 small performances including a range of poems, songs and scenes. The aim of a community-based event was reflected in simple set and props and focussed on showcasing the work and artists sharing commonality across different levels of performance experience and styles. Some of the fresh and self-curated pieces could be developed into a stronger and polished piece for future performances. Though, it was clear the showcase focussed more on the community and passion for increasing awareness on the environmental impacts of our own everyday actions rather than blowing us away with big numbers and fancy production elements. The afternoon brought passionate environmentalists, artists, hearts and minds all together in a respectful and open-minded way. The show was hosted by Izabella Louk who is the producer of Blinking Light Theatre. I commend Louk and the team at Blinking Light for programming such event with high accessibility in pricing. A standout from the showcase was Natalie Patterson, Hamish Alexander and Callum Wilson performing a scene from, ‘Scenes from a Climate Era’ by David Finnegan. Their sheer connection to the piece and genuine apprehensions about the future felt particularly pressing and effective within the showcase. As an inaugural event, Green Scenes has large potential. I suspect stronger publicity and marketing can grow future showcases into bigger events to connect stories and passions within theatre and environmentalist communities. Green Scenes was performed Sunday 8th September.
Photo © Isabel Zakharova
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Voices of Joan
Review by Ashlyn Hunter
The PACT invites an impactful retelling of Joan of Arc and her trial in the radical feminism show, ‘Voices of Joan’. From the second you walk into the theatre space, Janie Gibson is sitting already in performance - an action that brings an inviting and original way to start a piece I haven’t seen yet. It’s an interesting feeling watching Gibson sit and observe whilst the audience trudges in and settles themselves. You are enthralled and already on the edge of your seat for what she does next. As soon as you step into 'Voices of Joan', you are engulfed and it doesn’t stop until you leave. Gibson did a fantastic job at inviting the audience through her crowd work, making the audience come alive in the show itself. This show became immersive to another level as the audience is fully a part of the show; the trial of Joan of Arc is us. Perhaps one of the best uses of space was the end scene where Gibson encourages the audience to pick up the chairs they’ve been sitting on and stack them all upon one another. With the symbolisation of Gibson placing Joan’s sword in the middle of the stack, she further asks the audience to individually pick up an electric candle and place it wherever they wished on the stack of chairs – a signification of the death of Joan of Arc as we sit in tribute of her plight. As we all sit in silence, there was a collective mourning for Joan–such a raw and emotional way to end the play that was so palpable as we congregated together on the floor of the bleachers. You could almost taste the feeling of togetherness we all had in that moment. The use of crowd work throughout, made for an innovative and authentic sensation for the audience. Because the crowd work was carried through so well from start to finish, the end memorial scene felt like an entirely impactful moment as you witnessed the arc of the play. For such a large space as the PATC, Director and Co-Creator, Anu Almagro did a spectacular job of utilising the entire space– all of its nooks and crannies– in imaginative ways. Highlights were the costume changes and creatively activating all parts of the stage – from the huge projection of one of Gibson’s monologues onto the brick wall behind her, or the act of Gibson climbing the industrial structure of the bleachers. While staging was encompassing and effective, it was sometimes awkward as Gibson would be behind the audience’s seats at the back of the room, creating a bit of an uncomfortable head turn for the audience that sometimes became tiring. I can still understand and appreciate trying to use the whole space. From the surmount of costume changes to Gibson’s dramatic and impactful monologues, Almagro and Gibson really did a great job at encapsulating the feminist acts from Joan of Arc in medieval times, to the misogyny experienced in the present day. One of the most innovative ways this was experienced was through the Hamilton-inspired rap about misogyny from ‘Mr Misogyny’ himself, the uncomfortable, sexist, inappropriate version of a man that Gibson imitates, a man I can assume most women have definitely come across. For people wanting to watch a radical and punk production through the misogynist triumphs of Joan of Arc herself, this is the show for them. Voices of Joan plays until September 14 at PACT Centre.
Photo © Ange Maloney
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Sunset Boulevard
Review by Tori Bullard
The current production of ‘Sunset Boulevard’ at the Opera House delivers a theatrical experience that is as grand as it is unsettling. The story, a harrowing tale of faded stardom and the destructive power of delusion unfolds with all the melodrama one would expect from this iconic piece of musical theatre. Yet, while the production has moments of brilliance, it ultimately leaves the audience with mixed emotions—somewhere between awe and ambivalence. At the show's heart is Norma Desmond, the ageing silent film star who refuses to accept that her golden days are long behind her. Portraying Norma is none other than Sarah Brightman, a name synonymous with grand theatrical performances. However, in this production, Brightman's portrayal falls short of the vocal and emotional depth that Norma demands. While her stage presence is undeniable, there is a noticeable lack of the vocal power and clarity that one might expect from such a legendary figure. At times, it was difficult to fully grasp the nuances of her performance, which hindered the connection to Norma's tragic descent into madness. In stark contrast, Tim Draxl as Joe Gillis commands the stage with a performance that is nothing short of captivating. Draxl brings a sharp, cynical edge to the struggling screenwriter, his voice crisp and resonant, cutting through the drama with precision. His portrayal captures the complexity of Joe—a man caught between ambition, pity, and self-preservation—with a presence that anchors the production. Draxl’s ability to convey Joe’s internal conflict and his gradual entanglement in Norma’s delusions is masterful, making him the standout of the evening. Ashleigh Rubenach, as Betty Schaefer, provides a much-needed counterbalance to the darker elements of the show. Her portrayal is both innocent and pragmatic, offering a glimpse of hope and normality in a world otherwise steeped in decadence and decay. Rubenach’s voice is a true delight—sublime, soothing, and effortlessly expressive, she brings a warmth to the stage that is both refreshing and essential to the narrative. One of the most remarkable aspects of this production is the ensemble. The supporting cast, with their boundless energy and versatility, truly elevate the show to another level. Their performances are tight, cohesive, and brimming with character, each member contributing to the grand spectacle that *Sunset Boulevard* aspires to be. Among them, Peter Ho stands out for his seamless shifts between vastly different roles, from a flouncy starlet to a humble diner worker, showcasing his impressive range. Grace Driscoll also deserves special mention for her soaring vocals, which resonate powerfully throughout the theatre, leaving a lasting impression long after the final curtain falls. The orchestra, under the direction of an accomplished conductor, provides a lush, sweeping soundscape that is both immersive and nostalgic. Their performance transports the audience back to the golden age of Hollywood, with all its glamour and tragedy, and serves as the backbone of the production’s success. It is the music, more than anything, that captures the grandeur and emotional depth of ‘Sunset Boulevard’, making the audience feel as if they are part of the era it so vividly portrays. Visually, the production is a mixed bag. The set design is grand in scale, with towering structures and intricate details meant to evoke the opulence of Norma Desmond’s decaying mansion. However, despite its ambition, the set lacks a certain vitality, leaving a sense of emptiness where there should be richness and decay. In contrast, the costume design is a triumph, with each outfit meticulously crafted to reflect the elegance and excess of the time. The costumes not only add to the visual splendour of the production but also help to ground the characters in their respective worlds, whether it’s the faded glamour of Norma or the hopeful pragmatism of Betty. In conclusion, 'Sunset Boulevard' at the Opera House is a production that strives for greatness and, in many ways, achieves it. While it may falter in certain areas, it excels in others, thanks to the stellar performances of the ensemble, the powerful presence of Tim Draxl, and the enchanting music that ties it all together. For fans of classic musicals and grand, tragic narratives, this production offers a night of theatre that, while imperfect, is certainly worth experiencing. Despite some shortcomings, it earns a respectable three stars.
Photo © Wendell Teodoro
A Gay Escapade
Review by Victoria Luxton
Theatre at its core is about honesty, I mean, what’s more honest than belting out that tune, dressing up, taking those steps and diving into character two feet away from an audience. The line between the stage and the audience is so thin it almost doesn’t exist, yet there’s a world on the other side of the looking glass that we as the audience delight in, yearn for and crave. It’s what makes us come back for more shows like “A Gay Escapade”. The Loading Dock Theatre is currently home to a theatre company that centres itself around honesty, community, collaboration and queer storytelling. Little Triangle needs no introduction to anyone who’s anyone in the Sydney Independent theatre scene, having been a beacon of hope to performers, creatives and theatre go-ers alike. They extend their hand towards a Kander & Ebb spectacular in their latest triumph “A Gay Escapade”. Reminiscent of their earlier work “Isn’t it Queer”, this show is an original revue featuring 8 of Sydney’s best musical theatre artists and tickles the audience with vignettes of queer happenstance, situations and relations. A marvel, the vivacious Director Alexander Andrews crafts a flowing riot of stories weaving with ease through the Kander & Ebb canon. Is it Andrews’ wit, ability to bring out the “Camp” or understanding of “Play” that alights the actors and sends them into stardom? Andrews’ has crafted a story that moves so effortlessly and carries the audience on a journey of emotions with a cheeky wink for good measure. We start our audience journey from the foyer where we are warmly greeted and introduced to the show! The alluring Allegra Wilson fires us up with “When You’re Good To Mama”, accompanied by clever Aaron Robuck (Musical Director) on the piano accordion with sass and miles of charm. The audience practically clamber to our seats hoping to nab the best spot. What follows is a flow state of classic musical theatre, a space where we are introduced to the sharp, polished and charismatic cast. The back wall of the stage is pinned with a giant heart full of arrows (realistically, it could be a metaphor for how the audience felt during and after this production) shot through the heart and full of adoration for the generous and compelling performances we witnessed. It's impossible not to mention every single cast member- who pulled a bunch of energy and then some! They thrived off the audience's vocal delight! The ensemble moments were some of the strongest in the show, and the dynamic movement and choreography Andrews directed was reminiscent of that old school top hat and tales dancing that was made famous by the greats Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, even Fosse. Each member brought their own little quirks and characters and you could tell that they surprised each other with little sparks of whimsy and delight. Robuck sat at the upright piano stage right and interacted with each cast member in such a genuine and warm way, providing a strong foundation for each of them to take flight with their impressive vocals. Nina Carmen brought a warmth and sincerity to their songs and with clear, bright vocals, captured everyone’s attention; they are truly magnetic. Gavin Brown brought everyone to their knees with devastation as we reminisced with “I Don’t Remember You/Sometimes a Day Goes By”. A master at connecting with the audience's souls and taking them on a wild ride of emotions through both storytelling and soaring musicality. Sebastian Nelson and Brown worked tirelessly to bring a story of love, support and ultimately separation to the show. Allegra Wilson, could only best be described as a powerhouse and a true entertainer who rallied the audience and had them eating out of the palm of her hand. The chemistry between Clara Harrison and Wilson was skyrocketing and their rendition of “But The World Goes Round” was for sure a highlight. Clara Harrison brought a cheeky knowing to her part, and knocked our socks off with divine technique and an astonishing voice. A true comfort to see her poised by the piano with grace and interacting with her fellow cast members. The show’s story had a nice balance between absolute chaos and calm. A story of lovers and exes and all those in between, Kander and Ebb have a fantastic way of writing tunes and the audience found themselves in a yoyo of tapping their toes and wiping their nose. Izzy Hanly embodied the true Broadway energy of Kander & Ebb and absolutely blew the roof off with their showmanship, belt and personality galore. They really could’ve stopped the show with their numbers but as the audience cheered, we were whisked through to our next vignette. Juliette Coleman worked with ease and a high level of sophistication giving an elegant display of connection with fellow cast member Hanly. Jayden Castle was a breath of fresh air and not only sang one of the most well known songs “Mr Cellophane”, but gave it so much new energy and light! It should also be noted Castle brought out the guitar for fellow cast members and accompanied them with prowess. It's impossible to share every moment, because it zooms by you like a train. A true highlight of any Little Triangle show is the camaraderie, the ensemble interacting with each other in those unscripted moments and the sheer delight in sharing their work with an audience. I was sat next to a man who knew every word to every Kander & Ebb song…and was delighted to see them in such a refreshed telling. Bravo Little Triangle - a standing ovation. A Gay Escapade is at The Loading Dock Theatre by Qtopia Sydney until 31st August.
Photo © Annabelle Radford
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Frakenstein
Review by Tayla Ham
In 1816, at only 18 years old, Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein, now considered one of the greatest novels of the nineteenth century and the birth of the science fiction genre. Still, 207 years later, Shake and Stir Theatre Company presents Frankenstein at the Princess Theatre. Leading the cast of six was Darcy Brown (The Twits, Animal Farm, Peter Pan Goes Wrong), as Victor Frankenstein. Brown was able to snap Victor's madness back to level-headed at the start of his story so that the audience could watch his descent into madness. Brown’s scenes with Jeremiah Wray (James and The Giant Peach, Bluey’s Big Play, Harry Potter and The Cursed Child) as The Creature, were brilliant, especially when Brown was hissing and trying to shoo The Creature away. Wray delivered an absolute standout performance. From the moment he was brought to life, Wray was a commanding presence on the stage - the sequence of learning to use his body was such a highlight with perfect use of the revolve. The threatening scenes between Wray and Brown were remarkable with the strength of Wray truly terrifying. These scenes successfully highlighted the difference between the childlike innocence that Wray gave to The Creature in Act 1, compared to Wray’s Creature of nightmares in Act 2. Four actors created the rest of this cast, all playing a variety of characters as well as narrating the story, they are: Chloé Zuel (Hamilton, Six, Ragtime), Tony Cogin (The Mousetrap, Muriel’s Wedding Musical), Nick James (A Christmas Carol, Jane Eyre), and Anna Lise Phillips (The Clearing, Harrow, Devil’s Playground, Ms Fisher’s Modern Murder Mysteries). (Spoiler’s ahead… skip this paragraph if you want to avoid the spoiler for the 200 year old book!) All of the death scenes in the performance were incredibly convincing. The movement, power, and conviction of the actors was outstanding and such a compelling watch. The work of Nigel Poulton as movement and fight director must be congratulated here, as all of the fights, and deaths were fully realised on stage to make The Creature into the horrifying monster we expected him to be. Trent Suidgeest's incredible lighting design brought Frankenstein to life. The lighting helped build the world around the dynamic backdrops and minimal set pieces. However, whenever set pieces were used over the video screens, they were always used to their full effect. Unfortunately, the sound in this show was unbalanced, particularly in big moments that overpowered the dialogue. Unfortunately, this also happened right at the end of the show, while The Creature definitely spoke, what he said will forever remain a mystery. I expect that this was just the experience for those at the back of the dress circle, and is something I hope gets resolved for other patrons in these seats! While some technical issues took away from the overall experience, Shake and Stir have delivered a brilliant adaptation of Frankenstein. Jeremiah Wray’s portrayal of The Creature is something you really don’t want to miss!
Photo © Joel Devereux
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The Turn of the Screw
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
In a remarkable first for the Hayes Theatre, The Turn of the Screw has debuted as the venue's first full-fledged, bona-fide opera. This dark, gothic haunting story is at odds with itself at first glance. How could something as grand and dramatic as operatic performance be used to tell this story of subtle hauntings and eerie hints of tragedy around every corner? Craig Baldwin has done a spectacular job, aided by a cast of stage managers and musicians, in bringing this paranormal classic to an incredibly intimate stage. Having the performers so close to the audience lets you appreciate the sheer physical feat that opera singers produce with every song. The very room (an artfully decorated and well-utilised dilapidated sitting area) seems to quake with every number performed. Adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the show were the delightfully unsettling child sized puppets marionetted to represent the show’s two children, Miles and Flora. Both Sandy Leung and Addy Robertson juggled the dual burdens of puppeteering these uncanny marionettes while also giving some of the best operatic performances of the night. Addy Robertson’s performance as the troubled Miles set a fantastic, fist-clenching tone to this fog-stricken, gloomily lit show. If you want to see opera realised in a way it rarely has been before, and also set a chill down your spine that will last the majority of the night, then The Turn of The Screw is a must see performance. A resounding 4 Star Show. Catch The Turn of The Screw at Hayes Theatre Co until 14th September.
Photo © Richard Farlan
Murder For Two
Review by Tayla Ham
Murder For Two is not your normal musical. But it is a hilarious one. Two actors, 13 characters, one piano, and a murder. Sounds like the perfect set-up for an entertaining show, and luckily, TikTok sensation Gabbi Bolt and multi-talented performer Maverick Newman deliver. Arthur Whitney, a celebrated mystery novelist, is killed as he enters a birthday party at his mansion thrown by his wife Dahlia. The event is meant to be a high-profile celebration, but the murder throws everything into disarray. Officer Marcus Moscowicz is a small-town cop with dreams of becoming a detective. He is thrust into the investigation, where he must unravel clues, navigate a cast of quirky suspects, and solve the crime—all while facing the ensuing comedic chaos. Bolt's background in musical comedy was essential for this role, as she perfectly embodied Marcus's character. She played the piano flawlessly while reacting to all of Newman's antics. Additionally, Bolt delivered an impressive vocal performance, with "A Friend Like You" being a highlight of the show. While Bolt plays one of the characters, Newman leads a masterclass on character acting. All 12 of his characters are easily identifiable. Newman gives each character a different posture, accent, intonation of voice, or exaggerated facial expressions, especially when playing Barette. Richard Carroll's direction, especially for Newman, was wonderful; there was never any confusion about who he was playing at any given moment. This was evident during the song, It Was Her, which was a duet between two characters played by Newman, yet it was still easy to tell which person was singing at any given time. Bolt and Newman use the piano as another character in this show, not only as backing music for the songs, but also to highlight moments of suspense, drama and comedy. Both actors played the piano while singing, acting, and flawlessly delivering every joke, showcasing their talent and comedic timing. Additionally, there were times when they would swap who was playing mid-song or play together, and at one point, Newman was playing while standing over Bolt. This is some extraordinary talent when it comes to piano playing. The main feature of the set is the massive Steinberg piano positioned in the centre on a dias. Behind the piano are large frosted windows that regularly light up with two big diffused lights, symbolising cars arriving. The rest of the set is lined with bookshelves, creating a beautiful and welcoming space for the audience. Since the theatre is a thrust stage, the design by the set designer, Keerthi Subramanyam, aims to create a welcoming vibe, helping both the audience and the cast feel more comfortable interacting. Newman and Bolt had great chemistry on stage, and it was clear that they were having fun during the show. The book by Kellen Blair and Joe Kinosian is loaded with jokes that had the audience laughing from start to finish. These two incredibly talented performers have brought Murder for Two to Melbourne for the first time after TWO sell-out seasons in Sydney at Hayes Theatre Company. It's obvious why they sold out—Murder For Two is a hilarious murder mystery that is only here for a very limited time, so try not to miss this one.
Arlington
Review by Victoria Luxton
A rattling piece of theatre that brings into focus just how much connection a person needs to thrive vs. survive. Walking into the Reginald Theatre, a crackling version of Wichita Lineman plays as you pass the boxed-up set. We have a control room stage left, complete with multiple flashing computer monitors, a wall of television screens, a messy desk and a microphone intercom radio. It's definitely a control panel for surveillance and we are immediately brought a foreboding sense. On the opposite side is a mid-century waiting room, complete with light wood grain panelled walls, a large window, cheap office blue carpet and a few vinyl chairs in a row, an old gas heater, a radio and a couple of plants. It looks like a waiting room…and on the top corner, a large digital display of glaring red numbers… The show starts with strong feedback/grumbling and we hear what sounds like a radio talk show: the script is witty, you can't help but notice the cast use their natural dialects, however the show isn't set in any place at all. This world feels dystopian. A woman (Isla) played superbly by Phaedra Nicolaidis is standing and staring out the window, and in the room next to her, a Young Man (Jack Angwin) watches her on the screens. Immediately it feels very George Orwell's 1984, a world unfamiliar and uneasy, built on surveillance and tasks…later I'm reminded of Squid Games…it's all so intriguing! As an audience member you are drawn in from the beginning, wondering who are these people? How did they get there? What's the meaning behind it all? The play is structured in 4 vignettes or stories, and the audience are drawn into each character's boxed up world. The text is fluid, curious, constantly moving and referencing rules. Nicolaidis plays Isla in a naive, playful and inquisitive way; she's constantly asking questions and is curious. We later find out why her childlike innocence is still with her: she's unaware of her age and her only person to talk to is the Young Man (who is clearly brand new to the job and has no idea what he's doing). Angwin plays him with good comic timing and a great sense of nervous energy, making the character endearing. Isla is encouraged by the young man to tell stories and dream and he records them on a microphone. During these dream scapes we see nature projected on the pale wood panelled walls, a world far removed from this large dystopian village. Throughout their multiple short interactions, Isla described looking out of the window and seeing multiple skyscrapers similar to the one she's in, with rooms full of people just like her. She describes seeing people jumping out of those skyscrapers. Driven to take their own life from isolation, boredom, madness, cabin fever, this show really confronted the feelings a lot of us may have experienced during the Covid-19 lockdowns. A particularly gripping scene was the movement section performed and choreographed by Emma Harrison. Harrison's choreography was a fever dream full of repetitive patterns, rigid shapes and writhing movements. This section was one of the most disturbing for me. The numbers on the set were a lot higher than Isla's scene which indicated this character had been there for a while, with no one to talk to and nothing to entertain them. It begged the question from the audience: who am I when I'm truly alone? How long would I last in similar circumstances? I noted 3 people leave the theatre at separate occasions throughout this sequence. Harrison's character ends the scene by climbing up onto the window sill and jumping out. The audience are relieved to move into the next scene where Angwin's character interacts with the woman watching him under surveillance. This woman is The Supervisor played with gravity by Georgina Symes. Angwin's character is being tortured by The Supervisor- not allowed to sleep, he's also clearly been beat up featuring blood stains and bruises on his body- he has to participate in a series of tasks with a countdown: only if he completes these tasks is he allowed to sleep. Symes is relentless in her approach and makes a powerful statement which stayed with me for the rest of the show and I believe summarises this story so succinctly. The world they're living in has been assigned a new way of living and the people are divided into, "those keeping, and those being kept". I left Arlington reflecting on my own humanity, the feeling of sanity being a fragile state, and wondering what it would take to tip me over the edge in an isolated world. How much does connection and interaction with other humans keep us from walking that line between living, thriving…or just surviving. Arlington plays until 24th August at Seymour Centre.
Photo © Philip Erbacher
The Woman In Black
Review by Grace Cooper
The Woman in Black is a thrilling and suspenseful drama following the story of Arthur Kipps exorcising his past experiences. As someone who is not a huge fan of horror, I would see this show again—it is fearsome but equally impressive and captivating. This play is based on Susan Hill’s 1983 book of the same name. The Woman in Black is the second longest-running play on the West End, second to The Mousetrap. It has also been turned into a film starring Daniel Radcliffe. It all starts in a rehearsal room with Arthur Kipps seeking assistance from an actor to tell his story that has been eating him alive. With a slow start into the story itself, the comedy delivery appears overplayed and repetitive. But then the recalling of Kipps' story starts running and there is not one stop for breath. We get lost in the past of Arthur Kipps, from travelling to a small town in England, Crythin Gifford, due to his work as a solicitor. Kipps becomes encapsulated by an old estate whilst looking for documentation by the deceased owner, unravelling its horrible and shocking past. Kipps soon discovers the estate has many secrets and supernatural connections, following the residents as well as visitors. With just minimal set and props, The Woman in Black completely transports us with the immersive lighting and sound recordings, while utilising theatrical moments of pitch black, projections and fog. The play gets the audience on the edge of their seats, gripping our attention and challenging assumptions. I could feel the fear capture those in the auditorium; the team have successfully created a detailed, immersive world. My assumption was that the narrative would play out with an array of characters, like in the original book, so I went in with questions on how the story would grip us with just two actors. But the execution of Stephen Mallatratt’s adaptation as well as the mastery of John Waters (Arthur Kipps) and Daniel MacPherson (The Actor) let the narrative unfold in very safe hands. A duo very familiar with the craft of acting, John Waters and Daniel MacPherson bring their extensive acting history to the stage as they skilfully craft and deliver each character. The performances were just impeccable. Waters was in the Australian original production in 2006 reprising the role of Mr Kipps. Waters and MacPherson complement one another seamlessly keeping the script fresh and unpredictable. The duo successfully create a believable interplay we are invested in and do a superb job at sustaining our interest throughout. The Woman in Black delivers on its promise to terrify, but is supported by captivating stagecraft and performances. This is not a show to miss, especially for those who are horror fans or anyone who just loves a gripping narrative! The Woman in Black is at the Theatre Royal Sydney until August 17th.
Photo © Justin Nicholas
Scenes With Girls
Review by Bridie Middleton
There's something so comforting about being reminded that trying to be "not like other girls" is, in itself, a common experience among women—it's the recognition that we are all, in fact, like other girls. This shared experience creates a deep sense of relatability and connectedness, which Salad Days Collective has evoked in their 2024 season of Scenes With Girls. More than exploring intimacy, romance, or sex, Scenes With Girls delves deeply into the unique and complex bond found in female friendship. The narrative centres around Tosh (Jasmine Prasser) and Lou (Hannah Ward), 24-year-old housemates who engage in candid discussions about their lives and relationships. Their conversations are sharp, witty, and filled with questions about authenticity and the pressures of conforming to (and rejecting) societal expectations. The play opens a dialogue about the nature of love and the performative aspects of identity, especially concerning sex and the societal expectations of young women. The play’s narrative relies on the intimate conversations between Lou and Tosh, placing much of the responsibility on the performers to convey the depth of their characters. Hannah Ward's portrayal of Lou is both committed and expansive. She captured the audience's attention through dancing, facial expressions and eye contact, revealing the character's vulnerabilities during the play's more challenging moments. Ward's natural comedic timing is vibrant, painting Lou as a flawed yet incredibly likeable best friend, full of individuality and warmth. As the play progresses, we witness Lou’s vulnerabilities surface, but I love that Ward does not use Lou's good qualities as a mask for her insecurities. Instead, she presents them as integral parts of her character, making Lou complex and relatable. The work of director Ava Rusch emerges in this portrayal, where care has been taken to construct a rounded character. Jasmine Prasser’s Tosh is less outspoken but remains multifaceted and engaging. Prasser's unbothered, slumped tone is well-physicalised, and her internal struggles are conveyed through minimalist techniques. Prasser has a skill for being in the moment as a performer, and I found her portrayal particularly believable. However, at times, her vocal delivery was too soft, causing some key lines to be missed—unfortunately, the Pip Theatre venue is unforgiving for such quiet moments. While I enjoyed both characters, it took me a little while to warm up to the dynamic between the two performers. I don’t know if this was preview night nerves or long scene transitions, but I definitely got into the connection midway through the performance. Perhaps it was the introduction of their friend, Fran, that really got me excited. Georgina Sawyer's standout performance, marked by her detailed sensitivity and pure innocence, contrasted beautifully with the other girls and delivered a natural comedy to the stage. The chemistry between the characters, especially in scenes with all three on stage, became more defined and engaging with Fran's introduction. Miriam Battye's script is highly relatable and quick, with scenes often cutting off mid-conversation. This abruptness poses a challenge for directors in effectively staging these moments. Unfortunately, the production didn't fully realise its potential due to issues with scene transitions, lacking a sense of continuity for the friendship. More consistent lighting and sound throughout the scene changes and reducing the length of these transitions could enhance the overall flow. Despite some missed opportunities, I commend Ava Rusch's direction for being rich and encompassing, making the piece feel so current. The strength of their vision lies in the set design that was very impressive. The apartment had gorgeous colours that complemented the costumes beautifully (and that throw over the couch was just divine!). The lamps were a gorgeous touch, adding warmth and character to the space (no big light home!). The taps, toilets, and other elements effectively created a functional apartment which allowed the actors to inhibit the space, effectively transporting us to a real apartment. Catch Scenes with Girls at Pip Theatre (Brisbane) until the 3rd August.
Review by Tayla Ham
The UK's award-winning Aakash Odedra Company has returned to Melbourne with their latest production. Blending technology, stagecraft and traditional Indian dance styles to present Little Murmur. Over only 40 minutes, a solo performer, Kallirroi Vratti, weaves a beautiful visual tale for children and adults. Little Murmur is inspired by choreographer and dancer Aakash Odedra’s personal experience with dyslexia. Odedra was diagnosed at a young age. Little Murmur explores what it's like to live in a world where you struggle to process information and where your inability is emphasised more than your ability. Aimed at younger children and families, the show does well in composing a story that holds both audiences' interest. Vratti's manipulation of her body, moving around on the floor as she delivers lines, and the simple humour mixed into the script had the audience (mostly children) laughing throughout the show. In the main story presented, Vratti’s character struggles to read what appears to be medical notes about herself, then tells the audience that it took 21 years to realise she was spelling her name wrong. She was missing an A - a personal story from Odedra, spelling their name with only one A for 21 years of their life. After finding her A with the help of beautiful projections and Vratti dancing behind a transparent curtain that makes it look like she was causing the effect of the projections, Vratti’s character tells the audience that she feels in control now that she has found her A. However, in a flying swirl of paper, panic, and choreography, the A is lost again, and it becomes a question of what Vratti’s character will do to find it. The inaugural show at The Arts Centre Melbourne’s new theatre space, The Show Room, Little Murmur, makes great use of the black-box style venue. The set features a circle of fans and a transparent curtain, with stunning visuals projected onto the draping curtain. These projections include a flock of birds flying out of a book, ripples of power created where Vratti’s character touches the drape, and even an entire other dancer with whom Vratti dances and battles. The show mostly features a blend of graceful movements, visual projections, and other stagecraft. For example, creating a swirling paper vortex using fans and paper falling from the theatre's roof. Odedra’s choreography draws from his training in Bharatanatyam and Kathak and that of renowned Bollywood choreographer Shiamak Davar. Both of these classic Indian dance styles use the face and expression to tell a story through movement, which was used heavily throughout the show. Along with footwork, hand signs, and other unique identifiers for Indian-style dancing, Little Murmur is a lovely introduction to this dance style. With its beautiful, humorous message, stunning stagecraft, and intricate dancing, Little Murmur provides a perfect opportunity to introduce children to a theatre environment. The shorter length of the show makes it easier for many children who might struggle with a normal-length show to enjoy. It may also resonate with those who experience neurodivergence. Additionally, it's always a bonus for adults to enjoy a children's show. Running from 27th of July through till the 4th of August at The Show Room at The Arts Centre, Melbourne.
Photo © Arts Centre Melbourne
Review by Bridie Middleton
Handlight Productions' “Destructive Nature” is an immersive retelling of the Greek myth of Narcissus, brought to life by a talented ensemble of storytellers. This contemporary performance art commits to activating space, effectively engaging with the core intent of Anywhere Theatre Festival. Upon arrival, the audience was greeted with chairs in the backyard of a house, under the stars and surrounded by the suburban West End ambiance. House Conspiracy provided the perfect setting for the performance, feeling intimate from the start, as sounds of nature or children scuffling in the house next door were incorporated into the atmosphere. The space was ignited through committed storytelling, as the performers engaged in physical theatre and exploration of space. These movement sequences, a blend of dance and theatre, loosely conveyed the Greek tale and effectively provoked symbolic patterns of self-obsession. I found the most intriguing sequence of the piece to be the experiments with monkeys, with the performers bearing the remnants of their exploration with grass and scenery on their bodies. The idea contrasted the clinical classification of narcissistic behaviour with the natural tendencies of animals and was expertly executed. The use of food as a reward added an interesting dimension to the story where witnessing the physical pleasure and indulgence was both fascinating and confronting. While the themes were broad and open to audience interpretation, there was a palpable sense of obsession and its physical manifestations. The standout aspect of “Destructive Nature” was undoubtedly the performers. Flavia Carrillo and Madeline Armit were entrancing—their connection with the space and each audience member felt meaningful and new. Carrillo's sheer desperation and urgency, in particular, was outstanding to witness. The actors captivated the audience using minimalistic techniques—relying on breath, movement, and the physicality of their bodies rather than complex lighting or dialogue. The plot took a backseat to the performers' skills and their interplay. I can’t forget to mention Daniel Giorgi for the evocative sound design. The score seamlessly supported the visual tapestry with meditative layers that elevated the backyard atmosphere. Audience participation was integral to the experience, reinforcing the piece's experiential and avant-garde approach. We filled out questionnaires, moved to different parts of the space, and engaged our imaginations to find meaning in evocative sequences. I wish there were more people in the audience to experience this, though the piece seemed to prioritise intimate audience sizes. Experiments with projections and film worked for the production, although there were moments, particularly in the darkness beneath the house, where the use of technology could have been further explored. This may have given the piece a commentary of technology and social media as I felt this aspect of the piece was not fully realised. Some more cohesion and interconnection of the ideas across sequences might have enhanced the overall impact as a whole. Though, the experimental nature of the piece was thought-provoking and has left a lasting impact on myself as a viewer. "Destructive Nature" was a provocative experience that showcased emerging creatives taking risks with storytelling. I commend the whole team for their consideration of audience and space in performance-making—such value has created a highlight of Anywhere Theatre Festival.
Photo ©@__handlight on Instagram
Review by Ashlyn Hunter
Created by Ally Morgan and a part of the Bondi Fest, “Hymns from my 20s”, is an inventive and creative work filled to the rim with humour. Morgan takes the audience members on a quest through the stages of life from her 20s – musical style. With personally created songs dedicated to the various phases of her life; the audience is encapsulated with all the tropes that she divulges in, almost as a memoir as she embarks on heading into her 30s. From understanding the depths of feminism through the power of sex toys; to beautifully written queer heartbreak songs – Morgan reveals it all. Whether you know of Morgan’s music or not, it’s not a necessity for having fun and experiencing the performance to all its potential. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I entered the dimly lit space of the Badlambs Barbershop in the middle of Bondi. Utilising the space towards the back of the shop, a very intimate set-up was created. All that was in front of the audience seats were two microphones, a wooden stool and a keyboard. It was an inviting and small-scaped area. As the show opened, Morgan made her entrance into the space behind the keyboard with her partner, Jack Michael Angwin following suit and perching on the stool with a guitar in hand. I was hooked from the beginning with their dry humour off the bat and quirky introduction. The introduction then bled into their first song; a Bo Burnham style piece about Morgan’s life and what the audience will begin to understand as the chaos of her 20s. Full of idiosyncratic, fast paced writing, she pulls you in from the beginning. Morgan communicates to the audience that there is no chronological order to the songs – a very reflective aspect of what it’s like to actually be in your twenties; messy and confusing. Morgan further resonates in this by the manner of which she performed her songs. Attention never lacks with the rollercoaster of emotions and stories that you’re guided on. Whether it is the heartfelt love song about peering onto Parramatta Road on a sweltering day from the apartment you share with your lover. Or perhaps it is the rendition of ‘Apart of Your World’ from “The Little mermaid” that comedically takes you into her discovery of vibrators and just how life changing they can be. “Hymns from my 20s” is a vibrant piece (literally) that will keep your heart full and belly laughing. Morgan does a great job at keeping it relational and unique – like the upbeat and stochastic song in which she describes finding a bump in her vagina. She recounts how it sends her into an anxious spiral that calls her to the hospital, only to find out it was…. her cervix. It's a very “I’ve been there…” moment for a lot of the audience members. Even for the audience members who don’t necessarily have a cervix, the creativity and comedy of the piece is entertaining even without the personal relation to vaginal triumphs. There is something really interesting about watching someone perform so genuinely on stage – it makes for a very connective experience where audience and performer are not separate. It’s an integrated adventure with the performance space only heightening how the audience isn’t just watching Morgan act and perform out her life story, but we are a part of it. No matter where you may be at in your life, whatever age, this is a piece that can connect with everyone. Perhaps you’re currently in the throes of your 20s and deeply relating to the ups and downs that Morgan describes. Maybe you’re well away from the times of your 20s and feeling nostalgic for the chaos of them. And if you’re someone who is about to enter your 20s, you’re able to witness just how out-of-hand, profound, and full of love they can be. It was gratifying to witness Morgan’s lively experiences play out in front of me – especially intensified as her partner, Angwin, was there accompanying her for several of the songs. I really value genuine creation and originality and Morgan really stepped into this. She was truly captivating and genuine as she told her story through creative and individual pieces as one song was truly not like the other. A well written and heart-warming performance of Morgan’s authenticity; you witness the vulnerability of her life experiences and observe the rawness of her humanity in this show. “Hymns From My 20s” is a moving, comedic, and fast-paced journey that is truly worth the watch!
Review by Victoria Luxton
To leave a theatre after a show with a smile is not uncommon. To leave a theatre with a passion to go to the nearest Library and look up as many queer and lesbian love stories as you can find is a different experience and, I would say, unique to an audience member after seeing The Past Is a Wild Party. Siren Theatre Co bring the eloquent and crisp writing of Noelle Janacsewska to the stage at The Loading Dock with sophistication and assurance. A performance essay—this show brings the audience into an intellectual conversation with all the good, juicy, delectable bits and offers a thoughtful examination of Queer History through literature and our character’s personal timeline. The stage is set with caged lightbulbs suspended on long cords of varying levels, each bulb pulsating slowly and offering a welcoming wink to the audience as they take their seats (Designer: Benjamin Brockman). For a Saturday night, the theatre is not packed, and it’s a damn shame—they’re all missing out. Still, the congregation was plenty and audience members were ready to settle in to listen to our actor, Jules Billington. Billington is warm and magnetic from the start, and we instantly are picked up by their resonant and quick pace. The pace is perfect, making you feel like you’re participating in an intelligent romp round the character’s chapters, scenes and thoughts. Our character takes us to the library where they search for their family history—that is, the Queer stories of their foremothers. Though there is no through storyline as such, we sweep through conversations on the greats (Sappho and Virginia Woolf, Amy Levy, Sophia Parnok, Nobuko Yoshiya) each creating stories and dalliances, glimpses into fleeting lesbian romance. Billington does not falter and, for such a cerebral piece of theatre, they’re downright impressive. Crispy diction flows freely with our character’s extensive vocabulary, and you feel smart just being in the room. Billington brings the audience in with direct eye contact and perfectly timed smirks and shrugs: they’re so likeable! The character’s passion for scrabble and the letter Q have us feeling like we’re conversing over a compelling games night, the stories spilling out one after the other. Our character discusses their own queerness and journey throughout the years. We start with an endearing story about high school music camp, musicians on tour: all night talks and conversations, giving each other love bites and our character’s own fear despite such closeness- that their “deviation” will be found out. That somehow these sweet coming of age feelings are wrong. We find ourselves in various European countries throughout our character’s life and adventures, night walks away from the house with the grand piano that never gets played along the Rhine, following a woman into a bar, fingertips connecting and all night long passionate affairs. Bodies sliding against each other in bathtubs, enough dialogue to fill in the gaps in your own imagination… is anyone else blushing? I was! Despite these exciting moments, we are also given some sobering realities with the character’s battle with depression. Our caged lightbulbs are swung with force and the warbling soundscape (Composer and Sound Designer: Madeleine Picard), dizzying light swinging across Billington’s face gives the audience an unease and discomfort- sure, it’s hard to talk about depression. It sweeps in over our character’s life in moments and we are reminded of our own mortality. While Billington masterfully strides about the stage through light scapes and imaginary British Museum rooms, I marvelled to myself (as I often do when I see a one person show) how they have managed to remember everything. It’s a solid monologue that doesn’t stop for a whole hour. The scenarios, passion, pain and pleasure are enthralling and there wasn’t a moment where I zoned out or missed the point. This is a credit to the masterful writing of course, but we need to acknowledge the incredible vision and direction of Kate Gaul. For one person to stand on the stage and deliver great text you need to harness the audience’s imagination, and the way we were transported to so many locations—a hospital, a mattress, a Sydney street, the check in line at The British Museum—so clearly was just good, smart direction. The censorship of these stories and pieces of literature throughout history left me feeling rage. “They were companions, best friends, confidants, maternal feelings…like sisters,” our character is struck with how visibility is important for all. QUEER is written on the black back wall in chalk and we are again back in the intelligent wordplay conversation. The shows ending was a nod to how many pieces of lesbian literature ended: suddenly. This ending was done purposely and left the audience smirking! “How clever!” I left feeling uplifted, educated, enticed and ready to approach my local library and read old queer love letters.
Photo © Alex Vaughan
Review by Tayla Ham
Going into Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? without any knowledge of the show, is not generally what most people do. However, if you want a captivating, hilarious, and suspenseful three and a bit hours at the theatre, The Red Stitch production with Kat Stewart (Underbelly, Offspring, Disgraced, Heisenberg) confidently leading the ensemble is definitely recommended. But be warned, Albee’s absurdist style might make you leave the theatre with more questions than answers. This Tony Award-winning play, originally performed in 1962, is a black comedy set over three acts. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? tells the story, in real-time, of a drunken late-night party at Martha (Kat Stewart) and George’s (David Whiteley) house. Their guests, Nick (Harvey Zielinski) and Honey (Emily Goddard), are caught in the crossfire of Martha and George’s relationship battle as they play “games” with cracking, rapid, unpredictable dialogue that keeps the audience forever questioning and in suspense. Helpmann Award winner director Sarah Goodes, whose prolific work includes Joanna Murry-Smith’s critically acclaimed new play Julia with STC and Virgina Gay’s recent Cyrano with MTC, is well equipped to take the real-life couple Stewart and Whiteley and send them into this domestic battle. As one of Australia’s best-known actresses, Stewart is compelling in this role. She perfectly portrays Martha's feminine rage. It is hard to take your eyes off her whenever she is on stage, as you never know what is coming next. Stewart can switch from being light-hearted to screaming angry on a dime. The journey that Whiteley (The Wrong Girl, The Doctor Blake Mysteries, Uncle Vanya) takes the audience on as George is phenomenal. Beginning to appear as a meek, compliant older man who bends to his wife's will, to an almost manic, dominating presence in the room that completely controls the story of Act Three. The absolute highlight of the show is Goddard’s (Wittenoom, The Amateurs, Glory Dazed) performance as Honey. From the incredibly funny interpretive dance in Act 2 to jumping up and down on the couch excitedly screaming, “Violence!” over and over again. Whilst Goddard’s comedic acting is spectacular, watching her play out Honey’s drunken and deeply emotional journey through the play is not to be missed. The entire play unfolds in George and Martha’s living room. As this is the only set, it's obvious that the production designer, Harriet Oxley, has put significant thought into every aspect of the set. The bar at the back of the set is used almost as an altar, as the actors are constantly moving around this aspect of the set, and alcohol is at the centre of the entire show. The set is uniquely built up off the main Comedy Theatre stage. A ruffled curtain surrounds the entire set, creating a picturebox-like effect that the audience peers into. Additionally, the curtain colour changes as the mood of the scene changes, which is a beautiful addition to the show. Additionally, there was very little non-diegetic sound in the play, especially in the first act; therefore, when it was used, it was always nuanced and at the perfect time. There was no background sound, so the silence was like another character at some points. The cast uses silence perfectly to draw out suspense and, at points, the comedy of the situation. This is the first time a Red Stitch production has transferred to a commercial theatre. However, after The Red Stitch 2023 production sold out prior to opening night, a partnership between Red Stitch Actors and producers GWB Entertainment and Andrew Henry Presents enabled the transfer. This allows many more people to see this brilliant and truly unforgettable production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for a strictly three-week season. *Accessibility notes: Some of the dialogue from the dress circle was quite soft and fast. If you are Deaf or Hard of Hearing, you could have trouble hearing important parts of the show. Additionally, the actors give no body language that matches what they are talking about. Therefore, I would recommend trying to sit closer to the stage, if possible, to try to make sure you can hear. As the guest I had with me who was hearing-impaired really struggled with this production from where we were sitting Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is on at the Comedy Theatre, Melbourne until 21st July
Photo © Eugene Hyland
Review by Bridie Middleton
"Famished Future Feeders," a new eclectic work by Jules Broun and produced by the independent theatre collective, Robert the Cat. The piece offers a compelling and fragmented dystopian narrative and an interesting night at the theatre. The piece melds various styles that intrigue and alienate, where relationships and human connection offer a hint of comfort in the dystopian landscape. The show opens with three distinct groups of characters set within an array of coloured set pieces. Visually, the piece is striking, not anchored to a specific time frame but rich in imaginative detail. The creative costuming choices (particularly the glitter jumper and severed arm combo), add a jarring yet captivating element to the piece. This metallic, steam-punk visual landscape felt distant but oddly desirable (I heard an audience member say, “I want that top!”), and it was an exciting design for the play to unfold within. As the opening scene flicks between the three separate groups, we catch glimpses of sentences and fragments of moments before swiftly switching to the next group. This engaging start throws us into Broun’s fragmented writing style, which keeps us on the edge of our seats, constantly trying to piece together the narrative. Broun's writing, characterised by its dark comedy and absurdist approach, is both experimental and intriguing. The dialogue feels poetic in moments, with rhymes and succinct rhythm, while other moments jarred like absurd television advertisements with contemporary cyber-world references that scarily resonate. The dialogue transitions us through scenes to help delve deeper into the theme of imprisonment, particularly through characters like Fuge (Milan Bjelajac) and Leo (Peter Hatton), whose dynamic reveals a dictatorial power structure pressuring something much wider. While the scenes work individually, the overall narrative struggles with clarity, occasionally feeling like a tangled web of relationships. I found myself needing more time connecting the dots of who knows who, and I missed some plot while ponding on that aspect. Refining these relationships in the script could enhance the overall coherence of the script. The circumstances that surround the relationships also need tightening to effectively deliver the intended impact. While the world was a really interesting concept and I enjoyed the hunt for clues to piece the show together, I was left with some blind spots that felt unintended. The actors guide us through this complex narrative by keeping right on top of cut-off lines and interruptions, controlling the pacing of each scene well. John Ford and Jules Broun are a notable casting delight for Ham and Iggy—characters who love devouring a limb and throwing a fruit or two. I do feel there was opportunity for these actors to lean into the absurdity and characterise them more, though, their ensemble work was entertaining and the actors bounced off each other well. Moments that worked well were when conventions and expectations were broken. A stand out example is Bjelajac’s physicalisation of Fuge, where he moves around with a pillory attached to him. There was potential for more physical comedy and experimental staging like this, which could further elevate the production to reflect the style more effectively. I really value an original score for a theatre piece, and was really impressed by Drew Crawford and Joe Glynn’s compositions for the show. The techno score certainly enriches the production and gives the piece a unique atmosphere. However, other design elements, like the lighting and sound, occasionally overwhelm the performance. The frequent changes in light and black outs made scenes unnecessarily static; I felt the dialogue effectively achieves the disconnect where these design elements hindered the execution. More subtle transitions could have been more effective in maintaining audience engagement. The final scenes lost some of the tension built throughout the play, with extended moments that dilute the impact of crucial moments. Though, this emerging work is certainly thought-provoking and an interesting piece of theatre that left me with new questions surrounding the role of human disconnect in an array of contemporary challenges. Broun’s dual role as writer and performer is commendable and I am excited to see some more of their work. "Famished Future Feeders" is on at Metro Arts (New Benner Theatre) until Saturday 13th July.
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I sat down to see Mark Kilmurry’s take on the Neil Simon’s opus, The Odd Couple. I wasn’t really sure what to make of The Odd Couple at all, I had never really seen any of its various renditions, except maybe that remake with Matthew Perry in the middle of the 2010’s but I think I repressed that. For a concept as direct and simplistic as “Two guys. One’s clean, one’s messy”, Kilmurry and co manage to create a delightfully deep, fleshed out show, dense and dynamic but never cluttered or getting ahead of itself. The set is probably the first place to start - a rich, maximalist living and dining room, with cluttered shelves and a myriad of personal touches to make the room feel both lived in and period accurate. Immediately, you understand what the tone of this show is going to be - light, comedic, and probably involving that baseball bat on the back shelf. The actors, with their incredible performances and pacing, immediately immerse you into this tiny world, contained entirely within a cluttered 60’s New York apartment. When I talk about how rich and deep the comedy can be from such a simple concept, the credit must go in great part to Oscar (Shane Jacobson), Felix (Todd McKenney) and their cohort of friends and love interests. Jacobson and McKenney provide an incredibly faithful performance with the source material, with thick New Yorker accents and distinctive, animated movements. Anthony Taufa and John Batchelor balance the two leads with understated but incredibly engaging performances, while Laurence Coy and Jamie Oxenbould go the other direction, as over the top, bombastic comedic characters constantly making sure Jacobson and McKenney are on the top of their game. Arriving in the latter sections of the show, Lucy Durack and Penny McNamee have a synergy both with each other and our two male leads that crackled with energy. There’s something very retro about this show. Not in the veiled criticism way of “I’m actually calling this antiquated” but through its use of slapstick humour, or the way dialogue often sorts itself into these building blocks of telegraphed set ups and home-run punchlines. (I‘m referring to things as a home-run. The show has clearly imprinted on me.) The actors know their show well. They know when to pause for a big laugh, build up to a good joke, or play into the chaos of a scene when the script calls for it. There were a few moments where a joke didn’t quite land because it was talked over, and in the final scene, where drama briefly overtakes comedy, the audience was hit with a bit of whiplash as what was meant to be emotive and what was meant to be funny seemed to be anyone’s guess. But this is a minor mark against an incredibly faithful and dynamic show. A witty, fast paced performance contributed to by a wide range of talented actors, fit for anyone looking for an excuse to get into the city for the night.
Photo © Pia Johnson
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
A surreal road trip through 4,500km of country. A vaguely magical dog, a vaguely racist countryside, and a quest to find something as abstract as a ‘heart’. The Highway of Lost Hearts is matched in its strangeness only by its charm; its sad, engrossing story about a woman named Mot travelling far and wide to try and find her heart. This is essentially a one woman show, though with the incredible voices of Australian country duo Smith & Jones acting like the fates, singing and reiterating the events of the story as they unfold, passing them down into outback myth. I love stories that find some tide of magical realism to cast over Australian culture. Psychedelic anomalies rub shoulders with uncertain strangers and roadkill in this incredible piece of creative storytelling. Mot, played by the fantastic Kate Smith, doesn’t just account for her own voice in the story, but the voice of every character, every diegetic sound, and of course the strange musings of her highly empathetic dog (though, I guess most dogs are empathetic?). I don’t want to make any comparisons to D&D here and out myself as a colossal nerd, but Kate seriously is acting like an incredible DM. She doesn’t just guide the story, but she breathes life into it, the amazing set and soundwork behind the stage augment the fact that she is the show. The racist petrol station clerk, the shrill cashier named “Sherl”, the trucker with kind eyes and the sad drunk at a lonely pub - they’re all her, cast in her voice, her unique mannerisms for each character. And because this is a road trip, a road trip that ends at Sydney’s coast but starts in Alice Springs, the glimpses we catch of all these other characters are fleeting at most. So we’re just given these little vignettes of these strange, hurt people, all of whom in some way are searching for the same thing our Mot is. Smith & Jones are like the layer of rich icing between two slabs of cake. One slab can be Mot and the other can be… I don’t know. The dude who ate popcorn throughout the entire show. Metaphors are hard. While not actively “in” the story, but very frequently on the stage and occupying a space in Mot’s journey, they are an essential component to the show’s fabric. I did feel that sometimes their musical accompaniments between each scene were more stifling than augmenting. These musical departures worked at their best when they played up to the dream like nature of the show, reciting songs that have something more poignant and insightful to say about the scene, while the less effective transitions were ones that essentially just retold whatever the last scene was, in a musical way. Regardless of to what effect each song segment was used for, the voices of these performers, alongside the guitars and pianos they employed alongside them, never ceased to drop my jaw, no matter how often I heard them. Highway of Lost Hearts is one of those rare, intimate shows that will always occupy a space in my mind more as a feeling than a specific memory of the show. Its a play that acts like a dream, taking you through this sad, sometimes terrifying ride of things that don’t always click, but in the moment of them, you’re lost in the dream’s logic. It has a lot to say about the way Australia is today, and it wears these sentiments on its sleeve. Mary Anne Butler, the playwright and original author of the book this show was based on, has ensured the craft and care of her original novel has translated perfectly onto the stage. Australian road trips are ripe for commentary and abstract storytelling, and Highway of Lost Hearts canonises itself among the many stories that have sought to show something of merit, something important that we need to see, hiding in the Outback.
Photo © Hannah Groggan
Review by Tori Bullard
No Love Songs For Lady Basses, written and performed by the talented Sheanna Parker Russon, is a delightfully refreshing and deeply moving production that recently graced the stage of the Old Fitz. This inventive blend of storytelling, comedy, and song offers a unique exploration of the trans experience, particularly within the arts, and it does so with an infectious sense of joy and sincerity. From the moment Sheanna takes the stage, her powerful presence and extraordinary vocal talent shine. Sheanna loves to sing, but as a bass, she grapples with the reality that most love songs are crafted for sopranos. Traditionally, bass roles are relegated to grumpy old men—a trope Sheanna humorously dismantles with flair. Her search for a love song that suits her voice becomes a powerful metaphor for her broader journey of self-acceptance and breaking free from societal constraints. With direction and dramaturgy from Cassie Hamilton, this production stands out for its cleverness and heart. The book and lyrics by Sheanna are sharp, witty, and often hilarious, while Lillian M. Hearne’s compositions add an extra layer of depth and fun to the show. Hearne, who also serves as the musical director, along with Aisling Bermingham, provides superb support, enhancing the performance with their versatile talents. Sheanna’s comedic timing is impeccable, weaving laughter into even the most poignant moments. The inclusion of a mischievous puppet, persistently interrupting her journey, adds a whimsical and surreal touch, underscoring the play's playful yet profound nature. This puppet, representing the nagging societal expectations, becomes both a source of humor and a symbol of the obstacles Sheanna faces. One of the show's highlights is its celebration of queer joy and self-acceptance. While it doesn't shy away from the harsh realities and discrimination that come with being a trans woman, it revels in the beauty and triumph of Sheanna's life. The clever lyrics and enchanting compositions create a musical experience that is both deeply resonant and wonderfully entertaining. No Love Songs For Lady Basses had its final performance for this season on June 16th, but we can only hope for its return in the future. This show is a must-see for anyone who appreciates theatre that is as thought-provoking as it is enjoyable. Sheanna Parker Russon brings a unique voice to the stage, and her journey is one that deserves to be celebrated and shared widely. No Love Songs For Lady Basses is a theatrical gem that brilliantly balances humor, honesty, and heart. It’s an unforgettable experience, and we eagerly anticipate the day it returns to the stage. Highly recommended for anyone looking for a performance that will make you laugh, cry, and think—all while celebrating the power of self-acceptance and the joy of being true to oneself.
Photo © Jamie James
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
James Graham’s INK does a fantastic job taking its audience back to fast paced, high strung and high stakes world of late 60’s journalism. I walked into this show not knowing anything about Fleet Street, Rupert Murdoch’s rise to power as head media oligarch or the nature of British journalism, and INK wastes no time embroiling you in this foreign, almost fantastical , world. INK tracks the story of a young(er) Rupert Murdoch (Adrian Adam) after his acquisition of the Sun, a floundering newspaper in 1969, but it more intimately centres on Larry Lamb, Murdoch’s chosen editor for the paper. Making Lamb the protagonist of this story was a good call, as of the two characters, he is by far the more sympathetic one. Nick Curnow does an excellent job portraying Larry as someone you empathise with immediately, while balancing this with a hint of the tabloid-esque sleaze he’d imbue into the Sun. Snubbed at his publication the Mirror for his working class background and not being part of the Oxford or Harvard Cabal, watching Larry turn this reject-paper into something that pulls in millions of readers is a story you find it easy to slip into, filled with likeable characters and easy to grasp stakes. The show’s strength lies in the brevity that it can get across themes and ideas - Lamb going around from bar to dingy bar with his co-editor, plucking up the journalistic dregs of society, tells you all you need to know about the people being cobbled together to write for this paper, one of the earliest examples of British tabloid press. Watching these coworkers all sit around a smoke filled writing room, shouting out about how they want more news stories with gossip, or sex, or winning free stuff, was a highlight of the entire production. Such liveliness and animation in the newsroom was unfortunately not always matched in other aspects of the runtime. Adrian Adam does a great job portraying Murdoch, curmudgeonly even over fifty years ago, as a foul mouthed and money focused parallel to the aristocratic journalists of Britain, but his performance isn’t always matched - with many of these “executives talking” scenes that take place in penthouse offices or fancy restaurants suffering from stumbled over lines or missed queues. The set design and music are also both fantastic, with a projector playing real paper headlines over the show to further immerse you, but where the set dressing excelled, the actor’s utilisation of the stage unfortunately fell short. The stage is split into three layers, a foreground, a grate-like partition, and then a background that can hold people on a ground floor and upper storey. Very few scenes take advantage of this multilayered set design, a particular missed opportunity coming from Murdoch and his rival, who are in two different locations, as they both declare their hatred for the opposing media mogul. These complaints I have are overshadowed by the humanity and heart shown by Curnow, Adam, and the rest of the newsroom. It’s a dark, slick story that director Louise Fischer seeks to tell, and one that shows you just how vastly different the world of journalism was before one man - with dreams of a newspaper run like a business and not a public service - would change the face of it forever. Putting aside my own personal reservations about portraying Rupert Murdoch as some sort of likeable maverick with a chip on his shoulder, INK excels especially well as a period piece, showing the pitfalls and toxicity of Fleet Street - British journalism - both before and after the rise of tabloid press.
Photo ©Chris Lundie for New Theatre
Review by Grace Cooper
Never Closer is a gripping, confronting and impressive play written by Grace Chapple. Initially developed for Belvoir’s 25A 2022 program, the play is back at Belvoir, now playing in the upstairs theatre. The show revives the same polished and experienced cast to the bigger stage to tackle massive world themes; from war to religion with a touch of Irish humour and pop culture references. In Northern Ireland in 1977, we follow the celebrations and challenges of five teenage friends, Deidre’s (Emma Diaz), Jimmy's (Raj Labade), Mary (Ariadne Sgouros), Conor (Adam Sollis) and Niamh (Mabel Li). The friends all gather in Deidre’s living room for Christmas Eve, living the night to the fullest, as many of them will part ways shortly after. They try to focus on the positive experiences of that night and not on the war that is happening on their doorstep. 10 years later, in 1987, an impromptu meeting of the friend group occurs in the same living room. Grace Deadon’s set transports the audience and cast clearly to the 80s alongside Keerthi Subramanyam’s stylish and nostalgic costuming. Deidre, Jimmy, Mary and Conor have stayed in the small town for different reasons–whether that be work, family or even love. Niamh has been adventuring in London and has lost contact with the group. But when she turns up with her British Fiancé, Harry (Philip Lynch) it causes conflict. Throughout this Christmas Eve night, we follow these friends on a journey of self-discovery, fun, anger, loss and (of course) love. What was most impressive about this play was the distinct characters. I could not help but adore their nuanced friendships and dynamic as a group. Each performer’s commitment to their character, and one another, felt natural and refined. Stand-out performances go to Labade, who crafted the lovable Jimmy with a high emotional connection. Also, Diaz, with skilled execution, guides the audience as the main character of the play. Sgouros characterises Mary to perfection with her use of physical humour where Sollis aptly captures Conors anger, desperation and grief through strong physicalisation. Due to the very heavy rain in Sydney at the time and Belvoir’s upstairs theatre acoustics, it was challenging to follow parts of the narrative. Unfortunately, there was a lack of strong vocality in parts, yet, the cast to a certain extent commanded focus through their physical movements and characterisation. Never Closer has quite a slow build to the key conflict that transpired at the end of the play, a shocking and thought-provoking conclusion. While I enjoyed the build of tension, I felt the play could have benefited from some minor cuts to run at a shorter time frame. Nevertheless, the ending was charged and gut-wrenching, with moments you just have to see in person. Overall the six actors had strong character development and outstanding Irish accents, each completely believable. I commend the cast and crew for their commitment to their roles. This play will have audiences on the edge of their seats.
Photo © Brett Boardman
Review by Tori Bullard
“Ride the Cyclone” at Hayes Theatre is a triumph of modern musical theatre, blending timeless themes with a campy, hilarious, and devastating narrative. The story follows six teenagers from a Canadian chamber choir who find themselves in limbo after a tragic roller coaster accident. Guided by a mechanical fortune teller, each character tells their story in a bid to return to life, resulting in a whirlwind of emotion and dark humour. Bailey Dunnage’s performance as Noel is truly astonishing, embodying a potent mix of desire, queer anguish, and dramatic flair. Dunnage’s portrayal is both magnetic and heartrending, making Noel a standout character. Lincoln Elliott as Mischa offers a perfect balance of humour and tenderness. Elliott’s comedic timing is impeccable, and his moments of vulnerability add depth to his performance, making it both hilarious and heartwarming. Justin Gray’s Ricky is exhilarating, showcasing immense talent and a vibrant stage presence. Gray brings an infectious energy to the role that captivates the audience. Ava Madon’s Jane Doe is another standout, with a performance that is unnerving, stunning, and surprisingly sweet. Madon’s nuanced portrayal adds a hauntingly beautiful layer to the production. Mel O’Brien as Constance is out of this world, infusing the show with levity, joy, and humor. O’Brien brings an endearing, inexpert edge to Constance, making her character all the more relatable and charming. Her powerhouse voice adds significant depth to her performance, providing much-needed emotional relief amidst the darker themes. Karis Oka as Ocean is perfectly cast, delivering a character you love to hate with skill and charisma. One of the greatest joys of “Ride the Cyclone” is watching these characters revel in their teenage exuberance, being goofy, campy, and delightfully over-the-top. The show captures the essence of adolescence with all its awkwardness and uninhibited joy, making the characters’ antics both relatable and heartwarming. There is such a genuine joy in seeing teenagers simply be teenagers, embracing their quirks and passions without reservation. Victoria Falconer’s musical direction is immaculate, bringing the score to vibrant life and enhancing the emotional impact of the story. The set design by Benjamin Brockman and costume design by Esther Zhong are equally impressive, creating an immersive and visually mesmerizing experience. The attention to detail in the production design helps transport the audience into the unique world of “Ride the Cyclone.” Despite a minor technical glitch with the projector, which seemed to have a mind of its own, the show is a flawless production and deserves a full five stars. “Ride the Cyclone” is a must-see, setting a high standard for independent theatre. It masterfully intertwines humour with the harsh realities of mortality, making for a theatrical experience that is both profoundly entertaining and deeply moving.
Photo © Prudence Upton
Review by Tayla Ham
19: The Musical: An American Suffrage Story, a stage performance now reimagined into an audiobook, is a compelling narrative that uses music and humour to entertain and educate. It chronicles the lesser-known journey of Alice Paul and other suffragettes, shedding light on the years of marching, arrests, torture, and suffering they endured to achieve the 19th Amendment, a pivotal moment in American history. The music and lyrics of 19: The Musical: An American Suffrage Story are the work of Jennifer Schwed and Doug Bradshaw, with music composed and played by Charlie Barnett. This talented team has created an interesting musical to listen to. With clear inspirations from other historical musicals such as Hamilton, Six, and Assassins. 19: The Musical: An American Suffrage Story uses modern-day language, rap, and even race-swapping of historical figures, notably Susan B. Anthony, to bring the suffragettes' story to life in a fresh and engaging way. While the audiobook was very educational, it's important to note that it was difficult to follow in some parts, particularly during Act 1. Since musicals usually have a visual component, it was challenging to understand the setting and who was speaking without more extensive verbal descriptions. However, this became less of an issue in Act 2, which could be due to our familiarity with the characters or because it was less dependent on visuals. Being aware of these aspects can enhance your listening experience. Although not entirely accurate, the historical musical covers several critical aspects of the prolonged struggle for women's suffrage. It includes events like women protesters' arrests and forced feeding while they were on hunger strikes in prisons in both America and England, The Silent Sentinels, The Night of Terror, and the 1913 march in Washington D.C, where many women were violently assaulted for demanding their right to vote. In addition, 19: The Musical: An American Suffrage Story effectively highlights the efforts of women such as Alice Paul, Ida B. Wells, and Inez Milholland, which otherwise would have been forgotten in the pages of history. By portraying their courageous actions and long struggle for suffrage and equal rights, the musical brings to light their significant contributions to society. This helps to move beyond a superficial understanding of history where the names of these remarkable women are unknown to us. Although not without flaws, making this content available as an audiobook is a great way to ensure that it reaches a wider audience, rather than just a select few who were fortunate enough to see a live performance. This musical adaptation is an engaging and intriguing way to present history. Although it is a relatively new format for musicals, there is still room for improvement, but it's definitely worth a listen if you are interested in history, Hamilton, or want to learn more about the courageous women who made up the suffragette movement.
Review by Grace Cooper
Meaningful. Heart-warming. Hilarious. Walking into the small theatre KXT on Broadway I did not know what to expect from Misery Loves Company, quite an unknown play. It certainly did not disappoint. After closely reading the program, I was surprised to find out that, at the age of 17, Isabella Reid wrote this play for her HSC Drama Major Work in 2022. It had its first staged reading in OnStage 2023, then was developed with Shopfront Arts Co-Op and The Department of Education’s The Arts Unit, bringing this full-length production to life. Reid's sheer connectedness to human experiences at such a young age was reflected vividly in ‘Misery Loves Company’. Her writing is to be commended and I cannot wait to see what she writes next. Mathew Lee directed the production, bringing his professional experience and a clear vision for the show. Ruby Jenkins’ set, costume and prop design transported us back to the 1970s to the family’s home in Ireland, with the floral wallpaper, piano and crosschecked blankets over couches. The play itself expresses the idea that grief is better shared than experienced alone and the strength in togetherness. It consisted of 10 characters, mostly made up of the Glynne family. ‘Misery Loves Company’ focuses on a family gathering after Daphne passes away incorporating Irish traditions regarding a family death, such as a coffin in the family home. Each character brings a different perspective and attitude to this common experience of the death of a loved one at times creating conflict. It exposes the vulnerability and heartache of losing someone you love, sprinkled with relatable humour. As you enter the theatre Gus (Lincoln Elliott) is dressed as a traditional European jester playing the guitar and piano exceptionally. As we enter Elliott allows the audience to guide the lyrics of his song in a fun participation experiment. Soon after this, we meet the Glynne family all singing and dancing with an array of instruments, starting the show with high energy. We are introduced to the Gylnne family, including Daphne’s siblings, Henry (Paul Grabovac) and Dolores (Linda Nicholls-Gidley). Who are experiencing grief in different ways–Henry losing the plot and Dolores simply acting tough. We also meet Henry’s naive teenage daughter Cecila (Lib Campbell) and young son, Ernie (Clay Crighton). Clayton expressed a playful and physical characterisation of a young child that was extremely believable. Dolores's daughter, Niamh (Rachel Seeto) is the family rebel and builds tension throughout the play with their cousin the goody-goody Cecila. Annie Stafford is Jackie, Daphne's daughter who is a stand-out in the production and a vital part of this family gathering. The narrator of the play is Father John (Michael Yore) who is a key character in setting the scene and is an important part of the Irish religious culture. Jasper (Teale Howie) is not blood-related to the Glynne family but by the end of the play is taken under their wing and finds a love interest in the family. Jasper is Pa George’s (Mark Langham) caretaker who is Daphne’s father. Pa George is the backbone of this family, struggling with dementia. Overall the cast brought their own unique life and acting experiences that complimented each other, creating an exceptional production. The casting of this show was just perfect. The play ends after some major conflict within the Glynne household where they reflect on all the stories they remember Daphne by, from swing dancing and a newfound exploration of lesbianism. ‘Misery Loves Company’ incorporates traditional Irish songs from the start to the end of the play, which unifies characters in their collected experience of grief. ‘Misery Loves Company’ was touching and very impressive in many ways for its first production.
Photo © Clare Hawley
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
Fourteen is the theatrical adaption of journalist Shannon Molloy’s groundbreaking autobiography, centred on growing up gay in a brutally mundane small town in Queensland. Nelle Lee and Nick Skubij have worked alongside Molloy himself to adapt this incredibly confronting text into a glitzy theatrical work filled with a revolving door cast of allies and antagonists that all, in their own way, impact Shannon Molloy during his tumultuous fourteenth year. There is a lot to contemplate in this show, with its incredibly (I’m gonna say it again, incredibly) confronting depictions of homophobia and assault setting a tone that allows you to feel the levity and relief from the more comedic scenes where Molloy is able to again feel himself. The dance scenes were all incredibly well choreographed, but I do have to wonder about their place in the show overall. It’s one thing to balance comedy and tragedy on a knife’s edge, I think theatre is the best medium to do this, but breaking out to Spice Girls or S Club 7 in a show that also features some very graphic scenes of sexual and physical abuse just sort of throws the tone all over the place. It’s picked up with the humanity that Conor Leach manages to imbue the role with, very believably articulating the persona of a fourteen year old boy in ‘99. I think it was a very difficult task set out for the adaptors of this show to try and reconcile the incredible peaks and devastating troughs of Molloy’s fourteenth year into a production that must also consistently refresh the viewers with catharsis. We see a sort of algorithm at play, for x number of homophobic antagonists we must then have y number of free spirited allies that keep the tone hopeful. Every member of the cast is a swing besides Leach, and with one or two exceptions the cast all has a turn being someone that’s either building Molloy up or tearing him down. It’s a wonderful showcase of some incredibly talented actors, a unique opportunity to see the range that each player can provide to a truly startling amount of roles, but in the context of the show, it just leaves me feeling a touch confused. The show’s stereotypes of the prejudiced, unintelligent bogan clash with its stereotypes of the hyper-camp, ultra glitzy homosexual. If the comedy that comprises I’d say 40% of the show (with tragedy being the other 60) is supposed to be some core component of the show’s message, I suppose I’m just left wondering what that message is. In one scene we have the stereotype of the slack jawed, would-miss-his-hands-if-he-tried-to-clap bogan kid, braced against the stereotype of the incredibly flamboyant, outed gay kid, complete with mincing and jazz hands. Do we laugh at the former, but not the latter? What exactly does it mean if we’re laughing at both? This show’s content matter is just a bit too serious for us to say “oh well, it’s just a bit, laugh it off and don’t think about it too much”. I think it reached a head when Molloy, after a particularly harrowing and downright terrifying scene (again, the efforts of the actors to cling onto the tonal back-and-forth cannot be overstated, they were great) goes to do something very stupid and life threatening, we’ll say. He’s interrupted by a call. First from a friend of his from high school, one of the less archetypal characters that really only wants to protect Shannon from what we see of him. The next call, following this scene of intense self harm, has the outed gay kid in a tuxedo call Shannon from an antique mickey mouse phone, asking him if everything’s alright. It’s not the time, and in a show meant to show one person’s coming-into-their-own, as an individual instead of a label, it’s hardly the place. But the struggles this show had to reflect its source material in a meaningful way are shored up by the stand-out cast. Everyone more than pulls their weight, Steve Rooke and Ryan Hodson each an emotional powerhouse who put soul and humanity into every one of their characters. Leach, as I’ve mentioned, is a startlingly good lead who makes you feel this friendship and empathetic bond with Molloy almost immediately, his joys are your joys, his sorrows also yours to bear. A special note must be made to the amazing Karen Crone, whose portrayal of Molloy’s mother has to be one of the most convincing and cathartic performances of the show. There’s a lot to love with Fourteen. There’s also just a lot to sort of pull a face at while you scratch your head. Perhaps the virtue of the somewhat unfocused story was that, as I left the theatre still satisfied, I got to understand that it was from the raw energy and vibrancy that each player put into their roles, giving every scene their all.
Photo ©Joel Devereux
Review by Michael Di Guglielmo
How much would you be willing to sacrifice for the greater good? Would you forsake your principles? Your mental health? For overworked, underpaid publicity managers Peta (Isobel Ferguson) and Nick (Lisa Davidson), desperately trying to keep their party member in power and eke out a tiny victory for the little guy, no cost is too great. At the core of Cassandra-Ellie Yiannacou’s The 13th Month is the story of these two tired friends, pushing against our tired country, inevitably drawn into the whims of the billionaires who run it. It’s also a story of a rather ingenious plan to add a 13th month to the year. No, that’s not sarcasm. They make a pretty damn compelling case in this show, the cynical Nick’s one glimmer of positivity remaining in how she talks with sparkling, optimistic prose about how much more efficient it would be to evenly sort out 52 weeks into 13 months instead of 12. I think that the play’s concept, hilarious and absurd while also surprisingly grounded and mired far more in reality than you’d like, is reflected in just about every other aspect of the show. Director Madeleine Diggins is absolutely not afraid to have a hilarious scene (of which there are countless) collide right into a sombre realisation of just how far gone Australia’s news or politics has become. The billionaires in the show are machiavellian and sinister, each with a chokehold on their respective industries, cutthroat and unflinching in their ambitions. But they’re also prone to breaking out into dance to explain corporate sabotage, switching from egregious to gormless at the drop of a hat as they slink back into a more parodical form of their billionaire archetype. Lotte Beckett is “Two”, a sleazy real estate mogul and “#Ally” stuck with a napoleon complex. Beckett does more than just kill it. She knocks it out of the park (if you’ll pardon my mixing metaphors). Her every line drips with either contempt, or sleaze, or both, and she’s not even the first person I’ve seen this year to be a woman playing a violently horny man whose open shirt is bursting with chest hair! (Thanks, Not Now, Not Ever!) Anna Clarke, as the only female billionaire among the cabal, radiates that potent, hokey aussie mum energy, saying goodbye with “hoo-roo!” and awkwardly breaking out the jazz hands during the many insane bouts of dancing in the show. Ashyr Mason-Kaine as “ten” takes the cake as the most frightening of the three, easily sliding into this very human, very grounded persona of the tech-billionaire in a hoodie. She brings her role to life, a ‘new-money’ force of change and madness against the two ageing elder oligarchs, whose fortunes combined don’t hold a candle to his. This show is insanely quotable. Insanely funny. And at moments, just insane. Ferguson and Davidson shine with the chemistry unique to a pair of tired friends in a job they hate, with their quip-a-minute back and forth constantly keeping the show on pace. Even when a line was missed or a bit was fudged, there wasn’t a single time they couldn’t bring the show back on track and earn a laugh while doing it too. Shows like this are a reminder for why I’m an absolute fiend for Australian absurdism, and indie theatre to boot. A fantastic, poignant, hilarious show.
Photo © Grant Leslie
Review by Grace Cooper
‘Working Class Clown’ is a new performance art created by Tommy Misa, for a sold-out opening night for the 24th Sydney Biennale, Ten Thousand Sons at the White Bay Power Station. The White Bay Power Station has never been open to the public but has now been transformed into a public gallery and performance space. A couple of minutes into the show, Misa welcomed audiences with a compelling Acknowledgement of Country. ‘Working Class Clown’ infused elements of traditional Samoan storytelling with site-specific performance evoking a cultural and personal exploration. The short 45-minute piece was overlayed with an incredible and intricate soundscape. The one-man show start