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: 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: Bright Star (Hayes Theatre)

Venue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), Sep 5 – Oct 5, 2025
Music, Book & Story: Steve Martin
Music, Lyrics & Story: Edie Brickell
Directors: Miranda Middleton, Damien Ryan
Cast: Cameron Bajraktarevic-Hayward, Kaya Byrne, Victoria Falconer, Genevieve Goldman, Jack Green, Deirdre Khoo, Hannah McInerney, Jarrad Payne, Rupert Reid, Katrina Retallick, Felix Staas, Alec Steedman, Molly Margaret Stewart, Olivia Tajer, Seán van Doornum 
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
The story begins a century ago in North Carolina, where Alice falls pregnant out of wedlock and is forced to give up her child. At a time when single motherhood was considered unthinkable, women who defied convention by seeking independence or family without a husband were often subjected to severe persecution. Bright Star, the musical by Steve Martin and Edie Brickell, revisits this not-so-distant chapter of history, exposing the harsh, often barbaric conditions faced by some Americans. While the narrative tends to be too obviously tugging at our emotions, the production is buoyed by its irresistibly vibrant score, written in the bluegrass tradition, which remains a joy to experience.

Alec Steedman’s musical direction sweeps us into the romance and effervescence of every song, while co-directors Miranda Middleton and Damien Ryan shape the production into something strikingly elegant, imbued with warmth and empathy, even if the story’s separate timelines are not always clear. The design elements are handled with equal finesse: Isabel Hudson’s set exudes rustic charm yet retains a crisp sense of polish; Lily Matelian’s costumes evoke the American South with convincing detail, though they falter in ageing characters convincingly as the story shifts through time. James Wallis’ lighting is a continual delight—sumptuous, evocative, and unfailingly theatrical.

Hannah McInerney is commanding in the lead role of Alice, bringing remarkable depth and authenticity to the character, even if the distinction between her younger and older selves is not always sharply drawn. The two men in Alice’s life, played by Kaya Byrne and Cameron Bajraktarevic-Hayward, make a lasting impression with performances marked by sincerity, grounded realism, and an appealing lack of artifice. Also deserving mention are Deidre Khoo, Genevieve Goldman, and Jack Green, who, though in smaller roles, provide delightful flashes of humour and personality, their quirky characterisations and impeccable comic timing adding much to the production’s charm.

Not all storytelling lies in what is said, but in how it is told, and Bright Star is a case in point. The way its elements are assembled gives the production a resonance far greater than the sum of its parts. The meticulous musicianship, the generosity of its performers, and the discerning artistry of its designers coalesce to create a show that is consistently engaging, even when the plot itself borders on cliché. In this moment, we transcend the ordinary, reminded that art’s greatest gift is often the inspiration that it bestows.

www.hayestheatre.com.au | www.sportforjove.com.au

Review: The Talented Mr. Ripley (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Aug 19 – Sep 28, 2025
Playwright: Joanna Murray-Smith (based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith)
Director: Sarah Goodes
Cast: Faisal Hamza, Raj Labade, Will McDonald, Andrew McFarlane, Johnny Nasser, Claude Scott-Mitchell 
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
There are many possible reasons for Patricia Highsmith’s famous protagonist making the appalling decisions he does. Without overt explanations of Tom Ripley’s psychological constitution, we are left to observe his actions and to speculate on his motivations, often through notions of humanity that we can only presume to be universal. Joanna Murray-Smith’s adaptation comes 60 years after the novel’s publication, and although The Talented Mr. Ripley is thankfully rendered identifiably queer in this new stage version, we remain seduced by its enigmatic characters and their fundamentally dangerous story.

It is almost always a challenge to condense a work from book to play, but Murray-Smith does wonderfully to retain not only the essence, but also the delicious details of Highsmith’s original narrative. Direction by Sarah Goodes however feels rushed at several key moments, likely a consequence of wishing to keep running time within the conventional two hours. The show prevents itself from sprawling and luxuriating, in something that cannot disguise its tendencies toward indulgence.

Visual aspects too fall short of the extravagance and decadence one might anticipate from a narrative steeped in class and envy, but the crucial scene of Ripley’s first murder, is certainly some of the most beautiful theatre to appear in recent memory. Set design by Elizabeth Gadsby is modern and sparse. Emma White’s costumes subtly represent the distinctions of social stratum. Damien Cooper’s lighting brings dynamism, though it can appear somewhat unnecessarily restrained. Music and sound by Steve Francis is an unequivocal highlight, delivering huge doses of unabashed drama, to match Ripley’s intensifying delusions of grandeur.

Leading man Will McDonald is both compelling and convincing as the disturbed charlatan, brilliantly conveying the unspoken dimensions of Ripley’s inner world, which form the very heart of the production. Object of desire Dickie Greenleaf is performed with charismatic verve by a highly memorable Raj Labade, who strikes a delicate balance between likeable cad and despicable scoundrel. Also noteworthy is Faisal Hamza as Freddie Miles, wonderfully mischievous in his portrayals of nauseating privilege and wanton youth.

There is little reason to admire Ripley, yet despite his heinous crimes, we never for a moment want him to be caught. Every subsequent kill, though met with our derision, remains an irresistible pleasure in the purely artistic sense. That we can find ways to enjoy learning about Ripley’s atrocities, only means that there are parts of our psyche that can somehow appreciate his debauched descent. Though we strive to uphold honour in our personal choices, the sheer talent of those who commit barbarities proves always to exert a relentless, undeniable fascination.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Grief Is The Thing With Feathers (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Jul 26 – Aug 29, 2025
Playwrights: Simon Phillips, Nick Schlieper, Toby Schmitz (from the novel by Max Porter)
Director: Simon Phillips
Cast: Philip Lynch, Fraser Morrison, Toby Schmitz
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Recently widowed, a scholar finds himself utterly lost, adrift in grief. As a specialist in the work of Ted Hughes, it is perhaps inevitable that a crow—the most iconic figure in Hughes’ oeuvre—should appear, inserting itself into his life as companion and surrogate. Based on the novel by Max Porter, Grief Is the Thing with Feathers captures with striking authenticity both the frustrating stasis and the slow, almost imperceptible progress that inevitably accompanies bereavement.

Adapted for the stage by Simon Phillips, Nick Schlieper, and Toby Schmitz, this transposition pulses with an aggressive rhythm and a tonal grandeur that echoes both the literary references and the visceral experience of sorrow and despair. There is a regrettable emotional distance in its delivery, yet the sheer theatrical ambition of this reimagining of Porter’s novel remains undeniably impressive.

Phillips’ direction is boldly imaginative, capturing the poetic chaos of the widower’s interactions with the crow in a production that is truly dazzling for the senses. Video design by Craig Wilkinson, along with illustrations by Jon Weber, form a highly evocative element of the staging, especially useful in bringing to life its supernatural dimensions. Schlieper’s lighting is endlessly creative and exquisitely beautiful, masterfully evoking a universe of shifting realms. Sound by Daniel Hertern and music by Freya Schack-Arnott add immeasurable power, in their dynamic auditory renderings of this surrealist presentation. 

The widower is played by Schmitz who proves himself a commanding leading man, and a detailed artist who encourages us to regard the work with curiosity and discernment. As his young sons, Philip Lynch and Fraser Morrison deliver wonderfully spirited performances, injecting a vital effervescence into a production that might otherwise risk becoming overly sombre.

Grief is rarely a constant emotional state, but it can leave a lasting imprint, reshaping a person’s disposition into something permanently shadowed. While there are steps one might take to prevent such a descent, the most enduring strategy is often to weather the storm, trusting that its force will eventually subside. It can be a sad thought that those we have lost might one day be forgotten, but there comes a time when their memory must be gently placed in the recesses of the mind, to make room for living.

www.belvoir.com.au | www.andrewhenrypresents.com

Review: Koreaboo (Griffin Theatre Company)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Jun 14 – Jul 20, 2025
Playwright: Michelle Lim Davidson
Director: Jessica Arthur
Cast: Heather Jeong, Michelle Lim Davidson
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Hannah has flown to South Korea, hoping for a successful reunion with her birth mother. However, Soon Hee’s response falls far short of Hannah’s expectations. Koreaboo by Michelle Lim Davidson explores the phenomenon of transnational and transracial adoption, from the perspective of a person caught between cultures. Sharply observed and finely nuanced, Koreaboo proves to be as insightful as it is entertaining.

Davidson plays Hannah the naïve Australian, with exceptional effervescence. Heather Jeong brings admirable authenticity, to the role of shopkeeper Soon Hee. Both performers are wonderfully comedic, demonstrating excellent timing along with a persuasive chemistry. Directed by Jessica Arthur, the presentation is compulsively engaging at every moment, memorable for its sparkling humour. Scenes of poignancy could be provided more gravity, but they remain effective, in this story about unconventional kinship.

Production design by Mel Page accomplishes an extraordinary level of naturalism, to have us connecting immediately with visual cues that convey all we need to know, about these people and places. Lights by Kate Baldwin are commensurately accurate, in portraying a heightened ordinariness. Music by Brendon Boney offers a full-bodied expression of the playful spirit underpinning Koreaboo‘s humour, punctuating the show with gleeful joy throughout.

Parents are rarely, if ever, ideal beings. Admittedly some are more flawed than others, but a substantial part of any person’s maturation, involves coming to terms with disappointments around our parents’ deficiencies. Hannah longs for her mother’s love, but we discover that Soon Hee’s affections take a form quite different from what Hannah had hoped for. Like all adults, Hannah will learn eventually, that she simply has to make do.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: Eureka Day (Seymour Centre)

Venue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), May 29 – Jun 21, 2025
Playwright: Jonathan Spector
Director: Craig Baldwin
Cast: Deborah An, Christian Charisiou, Branden Christine, Jamie Oxenbould, Katrina Retallick
Images by Richard Farland

Theatre review
It is the 2018-19 school year, and a child comes to their Californian school with mumps, and sends everyone into a tailspin, when it is discovered that a substantial number of families have refused the MMR vaccine.

The comedy Eureka Day by Jonathan Spector emerged slightly before the pandemic, when it had become clear that conspiracy theories were more popular than ever, due to their unchecked proliferation on the internet. An unequivocally pertinent discussion for our times, Spector’s play encourages reflections on the phenomenon of parallel truths and fake news. It is thoughtful writing, and certainly worthwhile of attention, even if its generosity for those deceived and deluded, can often feel deeply frustrating.

Direction by Craig Baldwin makes use of that difficult conflict between ideological tribes, to create a stimulating work of theatre. Anger and exasperation might not be pleasurable emotions, but they are certainly powerful ones, that the production rouses for a communal experience that resonates with marvellous authenticity and familiarity.

An evenly dazzling cast of five delivers with urgent immediacy, a story that touches all in the modern age. Each actor is engaging, with palpable empathy and with sardonic humour, to earn our complete investment, if not for finding real solutions to the problem, then at least to simply commiserate about our sad state of affairs. Also noteworthy is production design by Kate Beere, offering simple yet colourful solutions that make believable, Eureka Day‘s explorations of a very upper middle class sanctuary.

A few short years since the original premiere of Eureka Day, we find ourselves in the preposterous position of fearing for the demise of science. Investigative, regulatory, and tertiary institutions in the USA are being systematically undermined, by a new kleptocracy determined to bankrupt any concept of the common good. Until very recently we have been able to “defer to science” in debates involving personal choice and public interest, but it seems that venerable authorities are being stripped of their credibility and efficacy, leaving us in an immensely troubling precarity.

www.seymourcentre.com | www.outhousetheatre.org

Review: IRL (KXT on Broadway)

Venue: KXT on Broadway (Ultimo NSW), Apr 25 – May 10, 2025
Playwright: Lewis Trestin
Director:
Eugene Lynch
Cast: Andrew Fraser, Bridget Haberecht, Dominic Lui, Leon Walshe
Images by Justin Cueno

Theatre review
Tumblr was still a thing, when teenage best friends Alexei and Taylor attended a pop culture convention in cosplay, asking big questions about identity and reality. IRL by Lewis Trestin explores that perennial search for truth, from the perspective of those born in the digital era. Immersed in facsimile representations of personalities through electronic devices, and absorbed in commercialised prescriptions of humanity, characters in IRL endure intense challenges as they try to find themselves, in Trestin’s reflective but thoroughly mischievous play.

Direction by Eugene Lynch is commensurately vibrant, with an infectious spiritedness that keeps us invested in its wildly-imagined coming-of-age narrative. Cassidy McDermott-Smith’s choreography is an unequivocal delight, for a highly animated show that never shies away from physical comedy. Set design by Lochie Odgers is somewhat subdued, but costumes by Lily Mateljan and lights by Topaz Marlay-Cole ensure that imagery is consistently colourful and vivacious. Sound by Daniel Herten too is an uplifting feature, making believable all the outlandish expressions of youthful angst.

The piece is performed brilliantly by an immensely dedicated cast. Andrew Fraser brings extravagance, relentless but deliberate with the campness he introduces to Alexei, a queer high schooler on the cusp of puppy love. Bridget Haberecht delivers with considerable power, speeches that address directly the political concerns of a new generation, whilst delivering some truly delicious theatricality with her embrace of Taylor’s surreal world. Leon Walshe is very likeable as Thaddeus, a role he plays with admirable precision and persuasive focus. Dominic Lui is a charming scene stealer, incredibly funny with his idiosyncratic and perfectly timed manoeuvres, in a variety of roles that he makes hilarious in surprising ways. 

It is easy to come to a conclusion that perhaps nothing is real, but in IRL we are once again reminded that for all the unpredictabilities, whims and fluctuations of existence, it is always connection that proves meaningful. We can spend all our lives in self-examination, but little compares to the instances of when people connect, when we discover in those moments of authentic resonance, that everything else falls readily into disintegration.

www.kingsxtheatre.com | www.theothertheatre.com.au

Review: Posh (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 19 – May 17, 2025
Playwright: Laura Wade
Director: Margaret Thanos
Cast: Tristan Black, Toby Blome, Mike Booth, Christian Byers, Max Cattana, Roman Delo, AJ Evans, Ryan Hodson, Charles Mayer, Dylan O’Connor, Dominique Purdue, Jack Richardson, Scarlett Waters, Anthony Yangoyan
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
The aristocracy may no longer be what it once was, but members of the secret Riot Club are certainly not giving up on their old beliefs. Posh by Laura Wade interrogates the British class system, with a specific focus on privileged young men, who are brought up to believe that their heritage makes them rightful leaders of the future. A scathing commentary on this particular segment of the elite, Wade’s play is an entertaining creation, if slightly simplistic and deficient in nuance.

Direction by Margaret Thanos imbues an intensity that has us captivated. Where there is a lack of complexity in terms of narrative and characters, Thanos provides extensive atmospheric enrichment, so that we may experience a consistent exhilaration, in the mischief and danger of what unfolds. An electrifying cast delivers a polished production, impressive with the cohesiveness and precision so evident in their work. Each actor is delightful, in a production memorable for its quality of performance.

Set design by Soham Apte is remarkable for its naturalism, leaving no doubt as to where the action is meant to occur. Aloma Barnes Siraswar’s costuming offers idiosyncratic and meaningful variations, to the patrician uniform that the men wear with revolting arrogance. Lights by Sophie Pekbilimli and sounds by Cameron Smith are not always imaginative and rigorous, but they rise to the challenge when the play veers momentarily into surreal territory. 

There is a sanctimonious pleasure in watching Posh, even if the truth points to power only ever working in one direction. It may feel like we are exploring the world of The Riot Club and its members in a superficial way, that the show only cares to depict caricatures, but there is no denying that the patriarchy’s persistent dominion is accurately conveyed. They no longer own everything, but it seems that nothing can quench their desire to exert influence over all of our lives.

www.oldfitztheatre.com.au | www.queenhades.com