Review: Work, But This Time Like You Mean It (The Rebel Theatre)

Venue: The Rebel Theatre (Sydney NSW), Oct 15 – 18 , 2025
Playwright: Honor Webster-Mannison
Director: Luke Rogers
Cast: Georgie Bianchini, Hannah Cornelia, Kathleen Dunkerley, Quinn Goodwin, Matthew Hogan, Blue Hyslop, Sterling Notley, Emma Piva
Images by

Theatre review
Chaos is the natural order in a fast-food restaurant, where young workers hold down the counters and, by extension, the bottom tiers of vast corporate empires. Honor Webster-Mannison’s Work, But This Time Like You Mean It announces its irony from the title, a wry invitation to reflect on labour, performance, and disillusionment. The play mines humour from the everyday grind, though its observations rarely move beyond the familiar. Still, the writing’s energy and authenticity make it a fertile ground for theatrical invention.

Directed by Luke Rogers, the production delivers amusement in spades, impressing with its relentless energy and visual exuberance. Set within the bleak confines of a takeout joint, Rogers’ staging transforms the banal into the spectacular, revealing the latent drama of labour and exhaustion.

Kathleen Kershaw’s set is both playground and pressure cooker, facilitating agile movement while immersing us in vivid, layered visuals. Ethan Hamill’s lighting gives the work structure and momentum, while Patrick Haesler’s sound design further heightens atmosphere and tension, ensuring the production maintains a constant sense of urgency and rhythm. Together, these elements generate a rhythm that feels breathless yet purposeful, a choreography of survival rendered with theatrical bravado.

A cast of eight delivers the show’s discombobulating heart with infectious precision and energy. Their performances are tightly honed, radiating a cohesion and verve that keep the audience engaged from start to finish. As the beleaguered branch manager, Blue Hyslop stands out for both charm and nuance, balancing comic timing with moments of surprising emotional depth amid the surrounding mayhem.

Work, But This Time Like You Mean It presents entry-level work as both crucible and classroom, a space where identities are forged under pressure, and where the absurd machinery of labour dispenses its quiet lessons in endurance. It exposes the inevitability of our initiation into capitalism, especially at an age too young to grasp its traps, when the thrill of a first job disguises the real lesson: that the system always starts by teaching us how to stay in line.

www.canberrayouththeatre.com.au

Review: Everything I Know About This Water Bottle (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Oct 7 – 17, 2025
Playwright: Michael Andrew Collins
Director: Violette Ayad
Cast: Ari Sgouros
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Clara’s story begins millions of years ago, evolves into a toy horse, and culminates as a plastic water bottle in the 21st century. Written by Michael Andrew Collins, the one-person play Everything I Know About This Water Bottle unfolds as a whimsical odyssey from organism to object. Though rich in imagination and buoyed by moments of fanciful invention, the work ultimately distils into a rather straightforward message of ecological preservation, one that resonates on a thematic level but rarely connects beyond the immediate impression.

Directed by Violette Ayad, the production maintains an appropriate sense of gravity, even as the text itself struggles to convey emotional depth. Performer Ari Sgouros proves sure-footed and assured, exuding a warm, jovial presence that keeps the audience engaged and at ease throughout. Set and lighting designer Morgan Moroney conjures a campfire-like intimacy that draws viewers closer to the story, while Madeleine Picard’s minimal sound assemblage offers only minimal enhancement, lending texture but little transformative impact.

Everything I Know About This Water Bottle exposes, with unflinching clarity, humanity’s incapacity to prioritise its own survival. Despite decades of discourse surrounding ecological collapse, our predicament continues to worsen, suggesting an almost inherent self-destructive tendency that no amount of awareness has managed to arrest. In its quiet despair, the piece gestures toward the melancholy truth that knowledge alone cannot redeem us. What remains is a haunting portrait of a species watching itself fade, fully conscious yet strangely unmoved.

www.oldfitztheatre.com.au | www.eswrkrs.com

Review: The Edit (25A Belvoir)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Oct 7 – 26, 2025
Playwright: Gabrielle Scawthorn
Director: Gabrielle Scawthorn
Cast: Iolanthe, Matilda Ridgway
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
Nia signs up for a reality dating show, while producer Jess hovers nearby to ensure the illusion of love unfolds without a hitch. But when the pair are caught up in a devastating incident, what surfaces isn’t the expected solidarity between women, but a betrayal so stark it throws everything into question. Gabrielle Scawthorn’s The Edit is a piercing look at the stranglehold of late capitalism on contemporary womanhood — and how easily we can slip into exploiting one another in pursuit of success. Rather than rallying against the forces that divide and commodify, we too often become willing participants in our own undoing.

Scawthorn’s writing is incisive and richly layered, full of surprising twists and morally complex characters that keep us alert and uneasy. As director, she delivers the work with unrelenting intensity and passion, sustaining a charged atmosphere from start to finish. The Edit is intellectually rigorous and emotionally fraught, most rewarding when it allows us fleeting glimpses into who these women truly are beneath the spectacle.

As Nia, Iolanthe offers an intriguing study of ambition under late capitalism, portraying with disarming authenticity the moral dissonance required for success. Her performance captures a young woman’s conviction that intelligence and charm can transcend systemic exploitation, a belief that we observe to be both seductive and self-defeating. Matilda Ridgway’s interpretation of Jess is marked by remarkable psychological acuity; her disingenuousness feels neither exaggerated nor opaque, but grounded in a credible logic of survival. As the play unfolds, Jess becomes increasingly reprehensible, yet Ridgway’s depictions remain resolutely authentic, allowing us to perceive the structural and emotional pressures that shape such behaviour.

Set design by Ruby Jenkins cleverly frames the action with visual cues that expose the hidden machinery of television production, and the layers of deceit that sustain its manufactured fantasies. The stage becomes both a workplace and a trap — a reminder that behind every glossy image lies manipulation at work. Phoebe Pilcher’s lighting design is striking in its chill and precision, evoking the emotional coldness that governs human behaviour in a system built on economic cannibalism. Music and sound by Alyx Dennison heighten the drama with an organic subtlety; their contributions are seamlessly integrated yet undeniably potent in shaping the production’s tension and mood.

The pursuit of success feels almost instinctive, a shared ambition ingrained from an early age, yet its meaning remains troublingly mutable. What we come to define as “success” is so often shaped by external forces, by market logics and cultural expectations that reward ambition only when it conforms to the existing order. For the young, particularly those taking their first tentative steps into professional life, this pursuit can be both intoxicating and perilous. The world teaches its lessons harshly, and every triumph seems to come at the expense of something quietly vital.

We are endlessly seduced by the shimmer of promise, by images of prosperity, relevance, and acclaim, and in our hunger, we mistake the surface for substance. The capitalist dream markets itself as empowerment, yet its currency is exploitation. Still, we continue to invest in the system, not solely out of necessity but from an almost devotional belief that perseverance will one day grant transcendence. The tragedy, of course, is that such faith is misplaced. The machine does not elevate; it consumes. It extracts our labour, our time, our spirit, and gives back only a fleeting sense of validation before demanding more. In the end, the system does not nurture our aspirations; it feeds on them, leaving us diminished, yet still reaching, still convinced that the next victory will finally make us whole.

www.belvoir.com.au | www.legittheatreco.com | www.unlikelyproductions.co.uk

Review: The Shiralee (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Oct 6 – Nov 29, 2025
Playwright: Kate Mulvany (from the novel by D’Arcy Niland)
Director: Jessica Arthur
Cast: Stephen Anderson, Paul Capsis, Lucia Mastrantone, Josh McConville,  Kate Mulvany, Aaron Pedersen, Ziggy Resnick, Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
In Kate Mulvany’s retelling of The Shiralee, D’Arcy Niland’s 1955 novel, the swagman Macauley finds purpose only when he chooses to embrace his parental responsibilities as his daughter Buster approaches her tenth birthday. Together they walk through the shadow of the Great Depression, where dust and hunger become the measure of endurance. The hardships they face quickly draw them close, allowing both to flourish in unexpected ways.

What was once a folksy tale of toil and redemption is transformed by Mulvany’s deft writing into something vibrantly humorous and sharply contemporary. Her play is delightful, charming, and consistently hilarious — a thoroughly entertaining reimagining that recontextualises a classic story for modern sensibilities.

Directed by Jessica Arthur, the production leans wholeheartedly into its comedic potential, unearthing every possible moment of laughter to create a show brimming with joy and playfulness. Driven by an expansive imagination and free-spirited inventiveness, Arthur’s work is a profound uplift, offering sincere explorations of love, belonging, and the meaning of home.

The cast glows with an irresistible warmth — each performer uncovering fresh, idiosyncratic ways to awaken an old tale for our restless, modern hearts. They play to our weariness with laughter, coaxing joy from every line, finding light in even the smallest turns of phrase.

As Macauley, the magnetic Josh McConville strikes a perfect balance between gruff masculinity and raw vulnerability, allowing us to see both the archetypal Aussie bloke and the tender humanity that quietly resides beneath the façade. The endlessly endearing Ziggy Resnick radiates pure exuberance as Buster, delivering a performance that is both impeccably timed and deeply sensitive — a portrait of a child wise beyond her years.

Jeremy Allen’s production design is elegantly spare, mirroring the harshness and austerity of the Australian outback. His use of gumtrees, at once iconic and nostalgic, evokes a landscape that feels both mythic and deeply personal. Trent Suidgeest’s lighting design is remarkable, seamlessly transforming the stage into a multitude of imagined places while crafting moments of sheer visual poetry that satisfy our longing for beauty. Equally striking is Jessica Dunn’s sound and composition, which capture both the vast, unforgiving sweep of the land and the tender intimacy of this unlikely father and daughter bond. Dunn’s work brims with feeling, but her sentimentality is never cloying; it moves us because it is always saying something true.

In this 2025 reiteration of The Shiralee, are unforgettable encounters with Indigenous and other people of colour, alongside multiple queer identities and unapologetic women of substance. Beneath the lively retelling of a story about familial bonds and traditional maleness lie subtle but profound redefinitions of the marginalised, insisting that we see ourselves not as outsiders but as integral threads woven into the tapestry of the Australian myth, forever reshaping it with our resolute presence and undaunted voices.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Chicken In A Biscuit (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Oct 3 – 18, 2025
Playwrights: Mary Rachel Brown, Jamie Oxenbould 
Director: Mary Rachel Brown
Cast: Mandy Bishop, Jamie Oxenbould
Images by Becky Matthews

Theatre review
Mary Rachel Brown and Jamie Oxenbould’s Chicken in a Biscuit stitches together a handful of comic vignettes about pets and their humans. It is a playful collection that mostly delivers on its promise of amusement, serving up easy laughs and moments of recognisable absurdity. The writers occasionally flirt with taboo, but never quite bite down; the material remains amiable, lightly absurd, and ultimately harmless. Pleasant enough, but it never risks enough to truly surprise.

Brown’s direction keeps everything tidy and contained, resulting in a show that feels carefully packaged but rarely surprising; a safe bet for audiences who prefer their theatre comfortable and uncomplicated. Kate Beere’s production design injects a colourful vibrancy, touched with camp flair, that lifts the show above the merely ordinary. Aron Murray’s lighting, video, and sound design provide atmospheric support and emotional precision, opting for reliability over experimentation.

Featuring Oxenbould and Mandy Bishop in multiple roles—human, feline and canine—Chicken in a Biscuit maintains a tone of confident control. The performers’ technical proficiency and evident commitment ground the production, providing a stability that facilitates audience engagement. Their comedic timing is deft and reliable, though attempts at emotional depth inadvertently reveal the text’s limitations, exposing a lack of substantive resonance beneath the humour.

When creative writing turns to anthropomorphism, an act of mirroring takes place. It reveals us as a species that defines itself relationally — understanding what we are only by imagining what we are not. Through the animal, we are stripped of pretence, order and normative hierarchy, made to think in other languages, to locate identity in a space far removed from the familiar. Perhaps, at the heart of it, what we desire most is transformation itself — for to be human is so often to long to be something, or somewhere, else.

www.oldfitztheatre.com.au | www.instagram.com/fixedfootproductions

Review: Rent (Sydney Opera House)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Sep 27 – Nov 1 2025
Book, Music & Lyrics: Jonathan Larson
Director: Shaun Rennie
Cast: Jesse Dutlow, Googoorewon Knox, Tana Laga’aia, Calista Nelmes, Kristin Paulse, Henry Rollo, Harry Targett, Imani Williams
Images by Pia Johnson, Neil Bennett

Theatre review
When Jonathan Larson completed his magnum opus Rent in 1996, he could not have foreseen that the bohemian enclave of New York City he celebrated was already in its twilight. Within a year, Rudy Giuliani’s iron-fisted mayorship would begin reshaping the city, erasing the fragile counterculture that had given Rent its heartbeat. Nearly three decades on, some of its echoes have softened, but the core refrain remains. The story of an underclass ignored by a complacent American mainstream feels newly pertinent in an era marked by authoritarian politics and cultural division.

Whether Larson’s writing truly earns its lofty reputation is open to debate, but Shaun Rennie’s direction in this revival is beyond question. His staging shimmers with a visual splendour that conjures spectacle without betraying the grit of a neighbourhood on the margins. What once risked sounding trite in Rent is here imbued with unexpected sincerity, the familiar refrains lifted into something that feels palpably meaningful.

Dann Barber’s set design astonishes in its detail and completeness, evoking both the era and the grunge locale with unflinching accuracy, while offering theatricality that never ceases to enthral the eye. Ella Butler’s costumes bring striking authenticity to a multitude of characters, yet always sustain a visual harmony across the stage. Paul Jackson’s lighting is profoundly evocative, conjuring memory and emotion in equal measure, and captivating us with an endless stream of potent imagery.

The cast is uniformly endearing, each performer delivering not only exceptional vocal power but also a sincerity that grounds the musical’s sweeping emotions. Calista Nelmes all but stops the show with her riotous, electric turn as Maureen in “Over the Moon,” while Harry Targett imbues Roger with an actorly intensity that lends the production its beating heart. Equally praiseworthy are Luca Dinardo’s choreography and Jack Earle’s musical direction—both infused with passion and executed with polish, their work bold in vision and shimmering with invention, breathing new vitality into a show that has long lived in the cultural imagination.

Perhaps the most crucial truth that Rent represents is that, in much of American culture and tradition, those at the bottom rungs are deemed undesirable—or even expendable. The AIDS crisis laid bare the ease with which Americans could turn on one another, exploiting capitalist values or religious fervour as justification for prejudice and cruelty. Today, the same currents ripple through a new era of fascism, as communities are singled out, scapegoated, offered up as sacrificial lambs to feed the hunger for false promises and hollow triumphs. The musical’s story, though decades old, pulses with uncanny relevance, a mirror to a society still grappling with whom it chooses to value and whom it casts aside.

rentmusical.au

Review: King (Sydney Fringe)

Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Sep 24 – 27, 2025
Playwright: Jo Tan
Director: Tan Shou Chen
Cast: Jo Tan
Images by Elissa Webb

Theatre review
Geok Yen is a marketing executive by day and Matt’s dutiful girlfriend by night, roles she shoulders with care but never with equal reward. She is forced to shrink, to contort, her true voice muffled. Then, in a moment of accidental inspiration, she steps into the skin of a man named Sterling—and the ground shifts beneath her.

Jo Tan’s one-woman play King initially situates itself within familiar binaries, only to destabilize them as the narrative progresses. Its insights into sexism accrue gradually, building towards a textured critique that resists simplistic dichotomies. By layering complexity onto what appears at first conventional, Tan invites her audience to reconsider the very categories through which gender is perceived and enacted.

Directed with flair by Tan Shou Chen, King shifts seamlessly between comedy and drama in charting Geok Yen’s journey. Each comic twist carries within it a shadow, each burst of humour a reminder of the weight pressing beneath. Though rooted in Singapore, the play’s reflections on societal roles and gender imbalance transcend geography. The details may vary across cultures, but the paradigm it reveals is both universal and pertinent.

Jo Tan delivers a tour de force, slipping effortlessly between Geok Yen, Sterling, and a gallery of side characters, all conjured with wit, imagination, and playful precision. The craftsmanship of her performance is impeccable, but it is her irresistible charisma and the clarity with which she unfolds both story and moral, that captivates, delights, and provokes in equal measure. Also noteworthy are video projections by designer Brian Gothong Tan, which heighten the theatricality of the production and accentuate the fantastical dimensions of Geok Yen’s narrative, all while dazzling with their sheer visual spectacle.

King begins with a starkly binary view of life, but by inhabiting both extremes, Geok Yen moves toward a more nuanced understanding of her place in the world. From black and white emerges a spectrum of grey, within which she discovers the courage to begin embracing her authenticity. The terrors that once haunted her prove to be illusions, and the forces that seemed all-powerful are revealed as far less formidable than they first appeared.

www.sydneyfringe.com

Review: Port (KXT on Broadway)

Venue: KXT on Broadway (Ultimo NSW), Sep 24 – Oct 4, 2025
Playwright: Simon Stephens
Director:
Nigel Turner-Carroll
Cast: Kyle Barrett, James Collins, Rachel Crossan, Owen Hasluck, Benjamin Louttit, Finn Middleton, Megan O’Connell, Grace Stamnas
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Racheal has spent much of her life in Stockport, a largely working-class town in the north-west of England. The hardships she endures are considerable, yet we perceive them as ordinary, knowing that life is never a bed of roses, especially for those on society’s lower rungs. In his 2002 play Port, Simon Stephens shows a keen ear for the rhythms of everyday conversation, but the tale he tells is ultimately one of mediocrity, a portrait of existence so ordinary that it struggles to sustain our deeper interest.

Fortunately, director Nigel Turner-Carroll brings considerable intensity to the drama, encouraging us to invest in the possibility of uncovering greater depths within the narrative. That hope, however, proves unfounded, as we gradually realise there is little of real substance in Racheal’s story.

The production at least looks assured: Soham Apte’s simple set and Benedict Janeczko-Taylor’s plain costumes provide clear visual cues to anchor us in time and place, while Travis Kecek’s lighting is finely judged, calibrating shades of sentimentality to reflect shifting emotional states. Cameron Smith’s sound design, too, deserves praise for its thorough evocation of the environments through which Racheal moves across the years.

Grace Stamnas takes on the role of Racheal with striking focus and confidence, lending the production a self-assurance that propels its brisk momentum. The ensemble is uniformly strong, each character rendered with a distinct and convincing presence. Together, the cast infuse the stage with colour and vitality, ensuring that the performance feels both engaging and worthwhile.

Like many of us, Rachael likely believes her hardships to be uniquely cruel, when in truth they are symptoms of broader social design. We imagine our fates as personal, yet so much of what we endure stems from the structures that govern collective life. The play never makes explicit the injustices Rachael faces as a working-class woman, nor how the wealthy preserve their dominance by hoarding resources. Their prosperity endures across generations—while the rest are kept busy mistaking survival for a life.

www.kingsxtheatre.com | www.instagram.com/decembertheatreco

Review: She Threaded Dangerously (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Sep 18 – 27, 2025
Playwrights: Simon Thomson, Emma Wright
Director: Claudia Elbourne
Cast: Hamish Alexander, Claudia Elbourne, Karrine Kanaan, Alyssa Peters, Larissa Turton, Leon Walshe, Michael Yore
Images by Karla Elbourne

Theatre review
We follow four teenagers at an all-girls high school as their awakening sexualities threaten to steer them into dangerous waters. She Threaded Dangerously, by Simon Thomson and Emma Wright, examines the bold and unruly libidos of youth in a world that has never quite known how to hold them. Though natural and healthy, such desires are too often suppressed, and that stifling can lead to tragic consequence.

The play may at moments feel too obvious with its message, at others frustratingly vague, yet its courage in grappling with taboo subjects, including sexual abuse, is admirable. Under Claudia Elbourne’s direction, the piece pulses with vibrancy, sustaining our attention even as its restless, youthful exuberance occasionally edges toward a grating excess.

Laila McCarthy’s set design shapes the stage with sensitivity, delineating spaces that allow us to imagine the many locations of the narrative, accented by understated details that resonate with quiet effectiveness. Luna Ng’s lighting brings a striking theatricality, conjuring a remarkable range of visual textures that enrich the eye at every turn. Alexander Lee-Rekers’ sound design often sits too far in the background, but when required, it enters effortlessly to heighten the drama.

Claudia Elbourne, Karrine Kanaan, Alyssa Peters, and Larissa Turton breathe vivid life into the circle of friends at the play’s heart, tracing with playful candour the restless currents of adolescent desire. Each performer stands assured in her own presence, yet together they weave a portrait of friendship that feels generous and harmonious. Around them, Hamish Alexander, Leon Walshe, and Michael Yore embody the contradictions of conventional masculinity, shifting between its harsher veneers and the fragile emotions so often concealed beneath bravado.

As a society, we often grow overprotective of girls, guarding their safety with puritanical notions that restrict freedom, stunt growth, and prolong immaturity. True development into womanhood requires the cultivation of confidence, a process that begins with the rejection of shame, particularly in relation to how we embrace ourselves as sexual beings. She Threaded Dangerously reminds us that what matters most is how we empower the young to voice their feelings—openly, fearlessly, and free from stigma or guilt—for it is through such articulation, as distinct from secrecy, that healthy growth truly flourishes.

www.oldfitztheatre.com.au | www.instagram.com/senseless.productions

Review: Anne Being Frank (Sydney Opera House)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Sep 13 – 21, 2025
Playwright: Ron Elisha
Director: Amanda Brooke Lerner
Cast: Alexis Fishman
Images by Grant Leslie

Theatre review
Anne Frank’s story did not end with her famous diary. For months after the final entry, she endured the harrowing journey through camps in the Netherlands, Poland, and Germany. Ron Elisha’s play Anne Being Frank reimagines those lost chapters while daring to add a fictional path in which Anne survives the war, is discovered by a publisher, and returns to her memoirs with the voice of a survivor.

To call the piece thoughtful is an understatement. At a time when wars are escalating across the globe, Anne Being Frank urges us to confront the senseless loss of human life, across nations, faiths, and identities. Under Amanda Brooke Lerner’s direction, the work compels an empathetic response to profound questions, even if certain moments of the staging fall can feel somewhat dry or staid.

The production is rendered with care. Set, costumes, lighting, and sound are all handled with sensitivity, offering a degree of theatricality without breaking new ground. At its centre, Alexis Fishman delivers a commanding performance as Anne. Her intimacy with the material is unmistakable, and she is at her most affecting when the narrative reaches its deepest poignancy.

It may feel trite to denounce the evils of war, yet it is a truth that demands endless repetition. Again and again humanity plunges into conflict, deaf to the countless stories etched across history that plead with us to turn away. Most bitter of all is the sight of those once crushed beneath its weight rising, in time, to be amongst its fiercest perpetrators. Such is the cruel cycle we seem powerless to break.

www.monstroustheatre.com.au