REVIEWS

From the very outset of Werewolf, I was enthralled. Receiving a series of audience guidelines in the foyer? Thrilling. An unconventional on-stage entry through a quasi-containment-chamber plastic screen? Absolutely on board. Being greeted by armbanded ‘Wardens’ who look like the outdoorsy camp counsellors of my teenage crush dreams? Strapped in. And all of that was before I'd even read my seat allotted instructional card…gasp! (if you know, you know)

If I were to liken the production to a Singaporean tea time snack, it would be kueh lapis: the steamed, rainbow-layered kind found in wet markets and confectionery shops alike. Sometimes called a nine-layer cake, it’s chewy, and you can really sink your teeth into it. Peeling the layers apart one at a time is a joy that doesn't fade with age, awakening the inner child in adults just as readily as it delights actual ones. This production was just as sticky.

The dynamic on-stage personas of McDowell and her alter ego Dekkers-Reihana are beyond praiseworthy. Each gifted actor presented a flawless interpretation of their respective roles, convincing in every way, their interplay engaging to witness. In particular, their direct eye contact at all times created an intimacy that irrevocably drew the audience into their ‘world’. We were no longer spectators, bystanders but became irrevocably entwined with the unflinching story unfolding on stage. 

Not a Cult* leans into a certain Australian-ness. The cheerful insistence that she'll be right, the motivational slogans, the promise that if we all have a go we'll all get somewhere. Counterpilot takes these familiar cultural touchstones and turns them into something faintly sinister. Is our national identity just a collection of rituals we've agreed to repeat? When does community spirit become herd mentality?

From a performance perspective, Anna Lindner and Elvy-Lee Quici are absolute standouts as Maxine and Billie respectively, bringing a heightened (but believable) mother/daughter dynamic. It’s a very real “cigarette mum and her awkward artsy daughter” relationship, endearing you to both parties immediately and making the ensuing character developments ones you actually care about the outcome of.

Jeong expertly balanced Soon Hee's guarded defensiveness with repressed creative energy, while Davidson grounded Hannah's desperate attempts for an identity in palpable longing to spend time with her umma. Their dynamic transformed what could have been straightforward melodrama into a nuanced, deeply human portrait of cross-cultural reconnection, showing the raw, awkward distance between two people who barely know each other.

I’ll be honest, as the curtain closed I was fighting back a quiet wave of emotion. Not from sadness, but a massive rush of adrenaline, pride and raw energy. The emotional core of ‘Strong Is The New Pretty’ hit me right in the chest, driven by passion, vulnerability, strength, and team spirit.

I loved Saplings. Full stop. It is probably the best piece of young people’s theatre I’ve ever seen, and I hope that it continues to be staged over the next decade. It’s a show that deserves to be seen by as many young people as possible, but perhaps more importantly, it’s a show that young people deserve to see. If you get the chance to see it, I implore you to attend - preferably with any young people you know in tow.

What made it work so well for me was the balance. The production knew exactly when to pump the brakes, contrasting all that frantic comedy with a few quiet, intimate dialogue down at the front of the stage as Evie shared her inner struggles with Alan, pulling me right into her world.

What I found most compelling was the authenticity of the character dynamics. Each performer was fully committed, and their Irish accents felt natural, grounding the dialogue in what sounded like genuine, unscripted conversation. The relationships between the friends were tangible; sitting in the audience, I could feel the tension and the thick, awkward air between them.

Fijian Flying Circus is a joyful, energetic celebration of Fiji that mixes traditional storytelling, music and dance with some seriously impressive circus skills. This isn't about outdoing the spectacle of Cirque du Soleil or throwing ever-bigger tricks at the audience. It's about showing what circus can be when culture, humour and storytelling are at its heart.

KOOZA is a box of delights that wows, thrills, and amazes audiences. The ‘Army’ of acrobats creates impressive sequences of pyramids, tumbling, ‘trampolining,’ balancing, teeterboard and lifts that are a fun, and quite fabulous demonstration of jumping, catching, strength, balance and trust. But it is the chair balancing and exhilarating Wheel of Death acts that may just have me going back to see this show again.

If you have been to a Strut & Fret show before you will know what to expect: incredible circus and burlesque artists, impressive comedians and singers, lots of audience interaction, and a captivatingly decadent 18+ event. If you have never been to a Strut & Fret show before, then be ready to be entertained and wowed by Blanc de Blanc Encore’s top-shelf entertainment; just be aware this is not for the prudish. 

‘Survival On A Strange Planet’ is an often funny take on how an alien might try to understand humanity through pop-culture that doubles as showcase for the aerial, lip-synching and whip-cracking skills of Grace Law (Performer), and for the puppetry talents of Calum Johnston (Co-Creator and Performer).

Great art happens when the artist is willing and able to externalise the most true and human parts of themselves on stage for an audience. Chatter is absurd, funny, confronting, and feels deeply real and undeniably honest. It is a compelling rollercoaster of an hour that loops through the silly and sad with a deft artistic hand and slick sound and lighting design. I only wish that I had been able to review this show at the start of its season, so I could have told everyone I know that they simply had to see it.

Chimera Arts has created a bold new work that explores the ways in which our lives are often closely inter-connected, and the potential of that social network. The use of ‘100 metres of chunky yarn’ is a clever device to reinforce messages about connection, and about the unravelling of power, represented through the excellent set design, and in the ways in which the artists gradually tear down the barriers and emerge from underneath the pieces. 

“When you don't allow phones suddenly an audience is more engaged. They're less self-conscious and artists are given sort of a pass to do things that they normally wouldn't feel comfortable doing otherwise if it was recorded…”

Props to the producers, as they’ve assembled one of the hottest team of carnies to hit a stage in Magandjin for some time, bring tricks rarely scene in our corner of the world.

I witnessed empowering moments of redemption when the ensemble flipped the script in two distinct ways. In an act of subversion, the lampshade was treated as a microphone and the closet morphed into a stage the women could stand on top of and verbalise their sentiments.

There were so many excellent moments in Le Retour, but one special highlight for me was contortionist and foot archery artist, Shannen Michaela, who performed her spectacular and technical archery act. The crowd was blown away by the acts, how she was able to set the scene, with accompanying epic music, as well as her charisma and perfect execution.