The Fuppets; Cassandra Fumi and Vidya Rajan, The Censor; Andy Balloch; Tom Ballard;; M.Collective, The Ache; 두물머리 Dumulmeori (where two rivers meet); Oliver Ayres, No Seasons; Rowan Thambar, Sorry For The Late Reply; Katy Warner, Refined; Michael Louis Kennedy, The Balloon Dog Bites; a2 company, Motion Sickness; Cherese Sonkkila, Fruition; Ben McCarthy, Alakazam;

THEATRE
Sh!t Theatre | Sh!t Theatre: Or, What’s Left of Us
Trades Hall, until October 4

If the hey-nonny-nonny branch of folk music makes you spit your honeyed mead, rest assured that Sh!t Theatre’s variety skews more towards the folk horror of Midsommar and Men. In fact, the repeated songs calling for the blood of someone whose name eerily echoes my own had me wondering if some Wicker Man sh!t was about to be visited on this reviewer.

Thankfully, the many ghosts with rotting breath and ritualistic sacrifices that haunt this hour of story and song are ultimately in the service of a profoundly crafted and expertly realised act of community-making.

Performers Rebecca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole win the crowd from the outset with cornered sandwiches and shared booze, but every pivot from there is a surprise. There are pagan headdresses, a puzzling true crime mystery, some hilarious comic writing and an extended climactic sequence that connects all that has preceded it in almost unbearably moving fashion. It’s devastating and divine.
★★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

THEATRE
Lab Kelpie | Refined
Trades Hall Festival Hub, until October 12

Iconic ’80s teen movie The Breakfast Club celebrates its 40th anniversary this year. Katy Warner’s Refined adopts its general premise, moving the action forward a decade and down a few rungs on the social ladder.

Five high school students and a jaded teacher are trapped in a detention room. It’s the mid-1990s at the third-worst school in the state, and these troublemakers are missing out on Fair Day – a free event sponsored by the nearby oil refinery, which pollutes the area with sludge and smut, but is also the only major employer left standing in a town hollowed out by recession. The teacher tells the kids to shut up and write an essay on their futures. Instead, chaos erupts, and past and present struggles emerge.

From a closeted goth girl with a crush to a boy poisoned by domestic violence, the five delinquents make a readily identifiable Brat Pack, the brutality of adolescence amplified by social marginalisation. Warner’s overheard dialogue and Lyall Brooks’ direction are both gifts to the ensemble cast. It’s funny, tragic, achingly vital theatre. High school teachers, talent scouts, and any fans of The Breakfast Club who prefer ’90s grunge to ’80s pop should all make a beeline for this one.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

THEATRE
Michael Louis Kennedy | The Balloon Dog Bites
Festival Hub: Trades Hall – Old Council Chambers, until October 12

Paulie Accio has graduated from a world-famous clown school, but not even Philippe Gaulier’s arduous training regimen can save Paulie from the fate of being a children’s entertainer. Performing one day at the Balmain birthday party of nine-year-old Constantina – a villain for the ages – Paulie glimpses the life of the 1 per cent, where creme brulee blowtorches and kids by the name of Lyonne reign supreme.

Michael Louis Kennedy’s sad clown peppers the ordeal of being at the party with reflections on clown school, romantic entanglements of the past, and enduring friendships. Kennedy is a beautiful writer, and the poetry of Paulie’s monologues are matched by the show’s thematic concinnity and latent humour. Punctuating it all is the gentlest form of (consensual, previously agreed upon) audience interaction.

The Balloon Dog Bites is sardonic and irreverent while grappling with existential questions: what constitutes a life well-lived? At what point is persisting in an arts career antithetical with the hallowed notion of adulthood? How much MDMA is too much MDMA? Drawing on the power of misdirection, a cavalcade of clowning tropes and a distinct “eat the rich” ethos, The Balloon Dog Bites celebrates the fluidity of queer kinship, exalts in the revelatory power of community, and eschews normative markers of success.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

COMEDY
Ben McCarthy | Alakazam
Trades Hall until October 19

Buzzing with the demonic vitality of a 10-year-old hopped up on undiluted red cordial, Ben McCarthy’s particular brand of Hi-NRG clowning makes for a truly deranged hour. Clad in a t-shirt, undies, wizard hat and some sort of pool robe, he’s a ridiculous figure even before he begins to attempt the series of magic spells that comprise his show.

We’re not talking Penn and Teller here: his vibe is closer to a cartoon sorcerer, which makes even funnier the fact that his woo-woo routines kind of work. That’s due to the fact that his audience are onside from the outset, and his wordless command over the crowd is testament to serious comedic chops.

The last decade or so has seen no shortage of contemporary clowns trying to carve their own niche in a crowded space, and it’s impressive that McCarthy does so in seemingly effortless fashion.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

DANCE
두물머리 Dumulmeori (where two rivers meet)
Dancehouse, until October 11

Ducks, an umbilical cord, stochastic choreography and a big wig. This excellent cross-cultural showcase of short solos from Korea and Australia has them all. More than that, it brings together a fascinating quartet of experienced choreographer-performers.

The evening begins with the smooth-moving Haneul Jung and his study of attachment and its opposite. He’s a wonderfully fluent dancer and a great physical comedian. In the next piece, Alisdair Macindoe creates disconcerting effects by presenting dance alongside textual annotations. Michelle Heaven turns a corporate presentation into a dream vision of retro mannerisms in an adaptation of an earlier work. It retains all the wonderful strangeness of the original. In the last piece, Chosul Kim suggests ripples on a duck pond infinitely sustained in her own body.

Conceived and curated by former Lucy Guerin Inc producer Brendan O’Connell, this quietly remarkable event proves how entertaining and productive such cross-cultural exchanges can be when grounded in rigorous, individual artistry.
★★★★
Reviewed by Andrew Fuhrmann

COMEDY
Sarah Stafford and Alex Hines | Birds
Meat Market, until October 18

Witnessing Alex Hines perform is always akin to having an acid trip. Throwing Sarah Stafford into the mix essentially makes it candy flipping by adding in a dose of MDMA. Performing as the characters of Shayna and Beverley soaking up rays on deck chairs on the beach, the duo turn the level of the stereotype of a pejorative “Karen” up to a decibel that’s unheard of. Imagine Gina Riley and Jane Turner in a coastal setting. It’s a descent into suburban absurdism.

The two converse over beauty routines, how mini-golf conglomerate Holey Moley is a multi-sensory experience, and don’t care that one of their own children might be drowning in the tides of the rising sea waters that they’re overlooking. They take satirical punches at Kyle & Jackie O as the show (and callers attempting to guess the secret sound) blares through a boombox.

It’s chaotic. It’s unhinged. It’s excellent.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

DANCE
M.Collective | The Ache
Meat Market, until October 11

The ache of desire begins in repression. At least, that’s where choreographer Chimene Steele-Prior begins this stylish meditation on feminine libido: the underworld of the body, among cramped figures, slouching and awkward. It’s a basement realm for cravings banished from the social order but insistent with life.

The ensemble of five – Steele-Prior, Jessica Thompson, Mia Theeboom, Nicole Corea, Arianna Marchiori – gradually work themselves into freer expressions of appetite. A thudding pulse supplies the grammar of their need; phrases lengthen, shoulders unlock and breath roughens. Images bloom, recede and recombine, building an organic and satisfyingly complex account of longing that remains lucid and muscular.

Even when familiar tropes appear – hands skimming over the body – the treatment feels freshly argued. Duets and trios coil, enfold and reset; formal material is asserted then collapses – then returns in held poses and trembling calves. And that final image: a woman carried aloft, satisfied yet still glancing backwards.
★★★★
Reviewed by Andrew Fuhrmann

COMEDY
Tom Ballard | jks: a comedy (?)
Trades Hall, until October 12

Five comedians backstage at a gig compare the (metaphorical) wounds they’ve accrued on the job before their differing takes on what counts as comedy explode into full-on civil war. That’s the premise of Tom Ballard’s clever, illuminating take on the political divides that polarise performers just as much as they do the rest of us.

Many of the laughs here are drawn from real-life tales of jobs gone wrong or old routines that now evoke winces, and it’s clear that everyone on stage has first-hand experience of the territory they’re navigating.

This is a capital-p play, and initially, it can be a mite uncanny to watch stand-ups acting, especially given the more passive role an audience assumes in conventional theatre. But the characters here can make jokes that would put an actual stand-up in the stocks, allowing the work to get neck-deep in the murky question of what’s beyond funny. Not as much as you might predict, it turns out.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

COMEDY
Burton Brothers and Friends
Festival Hub, Trades Hall – Archive Room until October 12

Burton Brothers and Friends is a variety-style sketch show that, at its core, is absolute nonsense. Brothers Tom and Josh, bringing loose-limbed clown work and comical vignettes, also release three other artists on the stage, invited to do a stand-alone bit. Each capsule of silly delights, oddball scenes or bizarre bird calls enraptures the audience.

On this occasion, the friends were Hannah Camilleri, Conk (Connor Dariol) and Andy Balloch. The cold read of a script scratched out earlier that day is met with a hearty level of mirth. The commitment to crowd work, by all five artists, leads to marvellously ridiculous shenanigans like feeding Nutri-Grain to a kangaroo and witnessing the slowest removalist in history.

Playing into the chaos of it all, comic mate Casey Filips was introduced by Josh as brother Tom, who was elsewhere for the night.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

COMEDY
Joshua Ladgrove | Joshua Ladgrove is your guest host on tonight’s Christmas Eve edition of The Denis Walter Show
Festival Hub: Trades Hall – Meeting Room, until October 12

Joshua Ladgrove’s alter ego Neal Portenza is no more, but unhinged character comedy is still his forte. Armed with a comically atrocious voice, Joshua is the protege of Australia’s favourite baritone Denis Walter. Denis suffers a curiously bloody mishap at Carols by Candlelight – recreated for the audience through assiduous video editing rather than AI, Ladgrove is careful to assert – rendering him almost voiceless. Who better to stand in as host of his Christmas Eve late-night variety show than Joshua?

An hour of unbridled madcap hilarity ensues. A famed Christian poem culminates in an unbelievable conclusion. A raw substance is consumed live on stage. Christmas cracker jokes begin to take on a personal edge. Running gags – and there are many – are mined to great effect. Joshua (the character)’s many conspiracy theories come to the fore in punchlines that skirt around good taste, only to emerge unscathed on the other side (interestingly, one of Ladgrove’s far less risky jokes may prove the most divisive).

Ladgrove is quick on his feet, with many of his improvised asides as funny as his scripted portrait of a man going off the rails. Surrender to the absurdity and strap in for the ride.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

VARIETY
Decadence: 10 Years of YUMMY
Arts House Meat Market, until October 18

Starting on Melbourne’s fringe scene 10 years ago, YUMMY’s fab fusion of circus, burlesque and drag cabaret has gone on to achieve mainstream success in Australia and internationally. No wonder. It serves up the acrobatic artistry and erotic frisson you might find at a La Clique or La Soiree show, while outshining RuPaul’s Drag Race when it comes to gender-bending splendour.

Flamboyant frocks are just the beginning. Emceed by drag artiste Valerie Hex, Decadence pulls out all the stops to deliver an evening of variety entertainment to remember. The circus will inspire wonder, even in the jaded. Highlights include Jarred Dewey’s wonderfully expressive static trapeze routine in red stilettos, and hyperflexible contortionist Soliana Ersie performing to FKA Twigs (to audible gasps from the audience).

Camp-as-tits musical selection is perfect fodder for everything from striptease to comedic drag fantasies, nailed with infectious energy and synchrony. Gay anthems and icons can be pancaked together – one number features Lana Del Rey v Kylie Minogue – or hyper-focused on a single, soggy cake… Chanteuse Milo Hartill does raise the rafters with her rendition of the Donna Summer classic, MacArthur Park. Fringe fare that’s achieved global success while remaining true to its creative roots, YUMMY is world-class variety with a sultry and subversive edge.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

DANCE
Himherandit Productions | Mass Effect
Meat Market, until October 11

Mass Effect offers the sort of dancing you might see anywhere, but clarified, exalted and enthusiastically worked into a sweat-drenched fantasy of togetherness. Five dancers in sportswear cycle through a series of well-co-ordinated drills. They sprint, feint, bop and hop. They jounce from one leg to the other, hips opening and closing. They beam at the audience. Actually, they flirt like the very mischief. The audience re-beams at the performers because it’s all so attractively cheerful.

Hips start to slalom; arms scythe loosely. Everything gets shoutier and sweatier. Shoes disappear, then shirts, then shorts and everything else. Finally, as the music cranks up, half the audience leaps on stage to join the frantic communion.

Isn’t this what we want dance to be? A thing, as the poet says, to clarify the pulse and cloud the mind? Well, whether you believe in that or not – it’s still terrific fun to watch.
★★★★
Reviewed by Andrew Fuhrmann

EXPERIMENTAL and THEATRE
SUBJECT OBJECT | work.txt
Trades Hall, until October 12

There’s no one on stage at the beginning of work.txt – just two microphones and a pile of Jenga bricks. Those who are sent into a panic by audience participation should steer clear of this entirely crowdsourced performance.

English writer and director Nathan Ellis has created an ingenious structure in which audience members are immediately roped into taking on roles, reading parts, and building things. We are subtly prompted to divide ourselves into categories: Geminis, Libras, people with long commutes, parents, people who have cried recently, people who earn over $90,000 a year … It’s remarkable how easily we perform labour and give up personal information to an unseen digital interrogator when the format is fun and we feel like we’re part of something.

Are we really in charge, or are we just blindly fulfilling roles we may not even understand? I left with wonderfully conflicting feelings of fellowship and alienation.
★★★★
Reviewed by Will Cox

THEATRE
SUBJECT OBJECT | Instructions
Trades Hall Fringe Hub, until October 12

Instructional theatre uses a different actor each night, with only a set of instructions (revealed to artist and audience in real time) to guide them. The rare experimental form games the presence and immediacy of unrehearsed performance, usually to overcome an absence. In the most famous instance – Nassim Soleimanpour’s White Rabbit Red Rabbit (2010) – the absentee was the playwright himself. He’d been refused permission to leave Iran; the show became a game of art without borders.

At Instructions, UK company SUBJECT OBJECT plays with the unnerving prospect of actors themselves (and most of their creative process) vanishing into the maw of unregulated AI. On one level, it’s a paranoia-inducing speculative thriller, thoughtfully reworking the gothic doppelganger trope for a wireless and witless age. On another, it’s an act of resistance – a springboard for actors to give a live rebuttal of their own obsolescence.

No one performs twice, so you won’t get to see the improvised comic genius of David Woods. Still, the show’s clever concept and design should reward all but the most robotic execution and, given the subject matter, an all-too-human performance might just be an asset.
This review was written from a preview performance.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

THEATRE
Handful of Bugs | Jester’s Privilege
Trades Hall, until October 5

I pity the fool, as a great man once said. Jesters were legendary for their ability to insult monarchs and get away with it. Except when they didn’t, and it was their head on the block.

The sad clown at the centre of this rich comedy is one such unfortunate, waiting out the final hours before his execution. He’s visited by a brilliant lineup of comic creations – dim-witted guard, equinophile stablehand, fame-hungry lord – who throw new light on his predicament, but the imminence of his demise grows weightier by the minute.

Not that there’s anything heavy about the production. As the ill-fated jester, Lachie Gough expertly juggles pathos and absurdity, while Alex Donnelly wears almost every other hat with an energy and comic originality that keeps the audience on their toes throughout. There are shades of Lano and Woodley to the pair’s dynamic, while the show’s alternately silly and acerbic tones suggest Beckett penning a season of Blackadder.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

THEATRE
Do Theatre | The Ship
Meat Market, until October 4

On a metaphorical ocean liner sailing from China to the southern hemisphere, passengers and crew voyage through an intellectual and physical test of resilience in a game of chess, battling real and imaginary foes.

Inspired by Stefan Zweig’s novella The Royal Game, The Ship brings together a cast of five performers playing multiple characters: the ship, its captain and crew, an authoritarian inquisitor, and two chess-playing champions. Set in 1943, the performance blends electrifying theatre with contemporary dance; a haunting effect instilled by a smoke machine, dim lighting, and Chinese folk music.

As our “boarding tickets” are stamped at the door, we’re handed a taro mochi, a welcoming gesture. A dancer recites poetic dialogue as the conscience of the ship, guiding the audiences through the journey they’re about to embark on. As the events unfold in a disconnected sequence, the story evolves into an exploration of migration and imprisonment – of the mind and body. Due to the multilingual nature of the show, translations are cleverly projected onto material that’s hung like sails. Brutal violence is cleverly choreographed to feel its impact without physical contact being made. An intriguing premise with many layers that gradually unravel like a maiden voyage.
★★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

THEATRE
Becki Bouchier | Orgy at the End of the World
Festival Hub: Trades Hall – Quilt Room, until October 5

The world is ending and every manner of calamity is being unleashed on planet earth – cyclones, volcanoes, wildfires, earthquakes, you name it. Consummate people pleaser Trisha (a suitably crazed Sally Brown) has decided it’s the perfect time to host an orgy. Joining her is a laughably small motley crew – workaholic Phil (Simon Tegart), tough-as-nails survivalist Noni (Karla Hillam), and fitspo influencer Gavin (crowd favourite Eddie Tuckerman).

Try as they might to foster an atmosphere of intimacy, awkwardness prevails. Trisha has prepared a smorgasbord of food no one wants to eat. Phil has strange reactions to a certain food item. Noni has something hidden in her backpack. And Gavin is concealing something. They’re shorthand for particular archetypes, but they’re sharply realised characters. Coupled with Becki Bouchier’s script – peppered with throwaway one-liners, an uproarious acoustic rendition of a popular 2000s song, and contemporary references – they’re exceedingly funny. Small flourishes, like the eggplant and peach emoji bunting hanging aloft the stage, add to the zaniness.

Would you bare yourself (physically, emotionally) if the world was ending? Is accelerated intimacy an antidote to lifelong loneliness? Orgy at the End of the World doesn’t have all the answers, but it’s a charmingly comical snapshot of four strangers’ last night of living.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

COMEDY
Andy Balloch | The Wedding
Festival Hub: Trades Hall – Meeting Room, until October 12

If you’ve been to one wedding, you’ve been to them all, seems to be the narrative conceit underpinning Andy Balloch’s ambitious one-man, 10-character show. Balloch is emceeing the wedding of his two friends, “boring gays” Dave and Tony. But the DJ is running late, and it’s on Balloch to entertain the masses. This segment of the show is the most like traditional stand-up, with memorable punchlines ranging from amusing grocery shopping and meal prep analogies to a rebuke of straight men’s wedding fashion and various permutations of bottoming jokes.

Punctuating this is Balloch’s embodiments of the classic archetypes you’d find at a (Western) wedding, as he dons various accoutrements and modulates his demeanour. Several are delivering speeches; others are evoked through overheard snippets of conversation. Some of these creations are stronger than others – Balloch’s turn as supercilious, unkind Aunt Cathy is flawless, as is his re-enactment of a best man whose bravado gives way to something far more vulnerable.

But this isn’t a typical wedding after all, we soon learn. There’s a sharp tonal shift two-thirds of the way through as Balloch pulls the rug out from beneath us, lurching from inanity to sincerity. Beautifully encapsulating his expressed solidarity with a highly persecuted community is his final character – Tony’s father. Balloch delivers a heartfelt, superbly acted speech that’s as moving as it is immaculately calibrated.
★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

COMEDY
Rowan Thambar | Sorry For The Late Reply
The Motley Bauhaus, until October 12

On Friday, December 13, at 5.37pm last year, Rowan Thambar witnessed an excrement-based crime. It’s an amusing enough anecdote if you’re fine with puerile material, but it’s certainly not enough to sustain the underlying crux of a show. Thankfully, much of his other material and one-liners are excellent.

His tales of working behind the scenes on The Project (including when a notorious joke about Jesus told by Reuben Kaye led to calls for the show to be cancelled in 2023) are engrossing. As are quips about modern-day friendship, immigration and tales of visiting Sri Lanka.

Sorry For The Late Reply is clearly still a work-in-progress and should be advertised as such – Thambar was reading notes throughout and often lost his train of thought. While rough around the edges and with some much-needed tweaks, it should be a polished piece of work come next year’s comedy festival. Hopefully, with the removal of the overarching faecal narrative.
★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

THEATRE
Cassandra Fumi and Vidya Rajan | The Censor
ArtPlay, until October 5

It’s one thing to read adults delivering their assessment of The Youth of Today, but it’s a very different experience to hear kids describing their own fears for the future.

The conceit of The Censor is simple: five people aged 10 to 16 inhabit a mystical island where they decide the rules. Freed of the moral adjudication of their elders, each day they assemble a mock courtroom to debate whether a particular cultural object should be permitted or forbidden in their tropical utopia.

It’s alarming to see the items themselves in the hands of pre-teens – from an opened bottle of vodka to the absolutely not-for-kids novel American Psycho. But this overall premise works best when it allows these articulate performers to express the conflicts of growing up in ways an older playwright might over-simplify. It’s arresting to hear a kid say they’re afraid of what comes next, especially when that’s the world you’ve helped bequeath them.
★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

DANCE
Lily Hindson and Hunter Mains | Wavefront Warfare
Dancehouse, until October 4

Wavefront Warfare is a promising duet, composed of brief but well executed sequences inspired by the instinctive survival responses categorised in trauma psychology as fight, flight, freeze, flop and fawn. The work invokes a carousel of moods, from angular, percussive moments of violence through to suppliant poses of submission where the body folds inward. It’s earnest and serious and at its best it’s very slick.

The two performers – in somewhat curious purple costumes – insist on speed throughout, but each phrase nonetheless develops the physiological themes. The projections provided by Danny Hindson are simple but supportive.

Of course, any attempt to dance the aftermath of trauma is fraught. It means wrestling new forms out of the mute reflexes of a body under siege, translating shock into an aesthetic idiom. Wavefront Warfare is expressive but controlled. It doesn’t risk the sort of choreographic disruptions that might leave the audience, too, in a sort of flop. Nonetheless, the clarity of composition is impressive.
★★★
Reviewed by Andrew Fuhrmann

THEATRE
Burned Dinner Theatre | Horse Girls
Theatre Works – Explosives Factory, until October 4

A rocking horse. A horse head statue. Wooden frames that resemble stables. This is a show about teenage girls with an equine obsession. For those expecting the wholesome vibes of The Saddle Club, this isn’t it. In a similar vein to Yve Blake’s award-winning musical Fangirls, Horse Girls explores the darker side of adolescent infatuation and the power dynamics between young women in friendship groups.

The ensemble features seven cast members, which feels a little large for a one-hour show, and makes it harder to establish a cohesive chemistry. The plot and dialogue feels a little contrived in the middle, and they’re still finding their timing and rhythm with the dialogue for it to really pack a punch.

Tamzen Hayes as Ashleigh, however, is an absolute standout as the self-appointed leader of this sinister pony club: her demeanour and delivery striking the perfect tone of saccharine with manipulation and malice imbued. Sara Bolch and her deadpan delivery as the recorder-playing Margaret and Tea Moma’s wide-eyed expressiveness as Brandi are also notable. The build-up to the ominous end is a moment to relish; don’t mess with a girl who loves horses.
★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

COMEDY
Danielle Walker | Tinkering
Festival Hub, Old Council Chambers, Trades Hall until October 5

From the outset, we’re informed that what we are about to experience is a work in progress – and reminders of this are uttered throughout the meandering hour. Danielle Walker is full of beans and occasional endearing bluster, at times reading from notes and iPad, as she drops stories about nan, grandad, mum and Noel.

Highly relatable characters come to life on stage, with PowerPoint pics used sparingly to great effect. It’s a forgiving crowd that chuckles on, even when she loses her place or retraces steps after forgetting a favourite bit. A run of laughs ensues, with Walker at times joining in, as lines about dating, illness and a ghost are delivered with charm, palpable insight and whimsical empathy.

There’s a fair amount of polishing to be done. But you get the feeling Walker is on the cusp of winding up her tinkering stage and entering her made-it phase. Should we be thankful Walker ignored her mother’s career advice (to pursue business studies) to dedicate her days and nights to crafting her stand-up? I’d suggest yes.
★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

DANCE
Katrina Rank | Creature
Dancehouse, until October 4

All creatures great and small are becoming plastic. The ocean’s fish are ingesting polymers, birds have bellies full of bottlecaps, microplastics are even found in the placenta of unborn humans. This lends a certain urgency to Katrina Rank’s ongoing Creature project, in which she inhabits fantastical costumes made of recycled materials.

Becoming hybrid, half-organism and half-petrochemical, is the dark fable of our age. And Rank conjures a rather solemn twilight scene that suggests the mystery of ends and beginnings. A human figure, contorted by spasms, crawls from costume to costume where she finds a sort of refuge, inhabiting a limbo of the unnatural.

The work progresses very slowly, but there is a sense of humour – the parody of creation – under all the lugubrious gestures of change. Still, I wanted to know more about these invented creatures: what else can they do except rustle, like the eternal litter of the supermarket bag caught in the wind?
★★★
Reviewed by Andrew Fuhrmann

COMEDY
Claire Robin | Nun Slut
Trades Hall, until October 5

I’ve never witnessed a performer exchange bodily fluids with an audience before. But this is the Fringe, I suppose. If you’re of any Christian denomination – stay far, far away from Nun Slut. The sisterhood would not approve.

Claire Robin’s godless concoction juxtaposes spirituality and sexuality – leaning heavily into the latter. It’s an uneven, but thoroughly enjoyable experience of clowning, music and some of the most horrifying audience participation I’ve ever seen. Horrifyingly enjoyable if you’re seated in the back row and watching the chaos unfold, it must be said.

While some songs drift and several skits don’t land, others such as the satire of youth group preachers and the sexualisation of communion thoroughly hit the non-theistic bullseye. If you’re up for bare buttocks being slammed into your face, come right in. Robin’s facial expressions throughout are worth the price of admission alone.
★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

EXPERIMENTAL
Matthew Shiel | Hans Zimmer’s Hollywood 1925-2025 – A Centenary Celebration Of Film Music
Brunswick Uniting Church, until October 4

For cinephiles with a sharp ear for film scores, Matthew Shiel’s classical renditions of themes from blockbuster films will keep you guessing. The intimate church setting and candlelit stage build the mood as the audience settles into the pews. Dressed in a kilt, the Edinburgh musician breathes life into iconic songs through a passionate piano performance as clips from silent films Le Voyage dans la Lune, Georges Méliès’ Joan of Arc, Fantasmagorie by Émile Cohl, and Police starring Charlie Chaplin are projected onto a modest screen.

Between each film, Shiel provides an explanation on the movie choice and accompanying score, which will delight curious film buffs. He explains that he’s transporting you to a time when music was performed live as the film played, capturing audiences with everything from Hans Zimmer’s compositions for Interstellar and Pirates of the Caribbean to John Williams’ scores from the Harry Potter and Star Wars franchises.

The challenge for Shiel is that he’s operating the projector himself as well as needing to walk from the stand where he delivers his explainer to the piano, which impacts the overall flow. Whether intentionally or not, it means that he’s often still playing after the clip ends. The volume on his mic also needed to be increased. Tech and stage assistance could make things smoother, though not always possible with a lean show. These disruptions are minor in what’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience; even Chaplin would mime an applause.
★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

COMEDY
AJ Lamarque | A Beginner’s Guide to Gay Cruising
Grouse, until October 4

Last year AJ Lamarque went on a nine-day cruise with 5000 other gay men – plus a few bisexuals having an existential crisis. For those unaware, Lamarque is part of the new wave of sass-fuelled camp comedians alongside Andy Balloch and Charlie Lewin coming to usurp the crowns of Joel Creasey and Rhys Nicholson. However, Lamarque is still yet to learn how to properly walk the tightrope between poignancy and filth.

His tales of speaking to older gay men who come on the cruises to escape being the societal minority and feel comfortable in their surroundings, and depictions of classism within his community, are both heartwarming and heartbreaking. However, they’re quickly unstuck by recollections of graphic sexual acts.

Having been fostered through the Melbourne Comedy Festival’s RAW Comedy and Comedy Zone programs, Lamarque has certainly honed his craft and delivery in recent years – he simply needs to pick a lane. It’s hard to take the pathos throughout an entire show seriously when you’re concluding with a lascivious story of the size of a phallus you can accommodate.
★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

THEATRE
a2 company | Motion Sickness
Trades Hall, until October 19

I don’t really know how the internet works. So when Ben Ashby begins Motion Sickness next to a towering column of curtains representing the fibre optic cables that move data from Australia to New Zealand, I feel what we all do when faced with new information: overwhelmed, terrified, and curious.

Such is the experience of modern life Ashby and Nadiyah Akbar are trying to replicate with this frenzied hour of live music, dance and artful projection loosely structured around personal anecdotes and deep dives into The Big Bang, AI, and existential dread.

It’s a formula the pair, as a2 company, pulled off beautifully with last year’s award-winning Running Into The Sun: a rich, ensemble-led spectacle that managed to replicate the chaos of our shared climate anxiety. Though impressively designed and underscored by an arresting original mix of lofi EDM by Toby Leman, Motion Sickness lacks its predecessor’s focus. Ashby’s charm isn’t enough to make its helter-skelter format cohere. Without clearer direction its back-to-back monologues become solipsistic, its eclectic vignettes gimmicky. You leave feeling overwhelmed without the curiosity to ask why.
★★
Reviewed by Guy Webster

CABARET
Imogen Kelly | Bent Burlesque: The Fuppets
Festival Hub: Trades Hall, until October 5

I must have taken a wrong turn because this isn’t the Sesame Street I remember. The Count is pleasuring himself with a calculator, Miss Piggy is sticking pasties to her udders, and Kermit is literally speaking out of his buttocks. This is Bent Burlesque’s interpretation of the Muppets if they had gone through a major moral recession, and were forced down a path of cross-dressing and extreme hedonism. Or, as they call it, The Fuppets.

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There’s no easing you in. You’re welcomed with full-frontal nudity — googly-eyes on nether regions and mustaches above areolas. This is a show more concerned about shocking its audience than “making sense”.

It’s when they attempt to actually make some kind of “point” — while singing a banjo track about Trump, Epstein and Andrew Tate, no less — that they lose momentum. Lyric missteps and missed cues render it more awkward than meaningfully funny. The only thing that saves these moments is the Auslan interpreter, who works overtime to sign words like “asshole” and “f—wit”. Beyond an impressive hula-hooping performance and a butt-naked skipping session, the greatest skill The Fuppets exhibits is corrupting your childhood memories.
★★
Reviewed by Nell Geraets

COMEDY
Cherese Sonkkila | Fruition
Spielhaus, until October 12

Cherese Sonkkila needs a tarp and a baby pool to ensure her stage isn’t damaged by a deluge of orange juice.

The entire premise of Fruition is about how much Sonkilla loves fruit. It’s a concoction of fruit-based puns, fruit-based audience participation and fruit-based clowning. Her genetics were apparently formed from her mother’s fruit intake. She spent high school making out with oranges. The final act of bringing her audience into the show is a sensory-bending experience.

But thematically Fruition, ahem, just doesn’t have enough to squeeze out an entire hour. Ironically, the strongest section of the show is the only one that doesn’t involve fruit – rather a skit that sees her as a jellyfish and stinging her audience and spraying them with supposed antidotes. For a debut show Sonkkila shows a lot of promise, flair and confidence as a performer – she just needs a stronger and less one-eyed concept.
★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

COMEDY
Carly Electric | In My Box
Trades Hall, until October 12

A sex worker trading turning tricks in exchange for a night of telling jokes? While nowhere near as lucrative, it’s not as uncommon as you might think. Following the ilk of Bianka Ismailovski’s Working Girl, Kaytlin Bailey’s Whore’s Eye View and the late Bella Green’s Is Charging for It, Carly Electric dives into her history (and DMs) of a life within the sex industry and downright insanity its clientele bring. The problem, however, is unlike the aforementioned, the show lacks structure and comedic flourish.

The first 20 minutes are delivered by an interchanging guest-host (in tonight’s edition, Australia’s most lovable self-described bogan Brett Blake was the only saving grace) who asks questions written by the audience for Electric. They are answered without any comedic finesse, and there is no sense of Electric reading the audience who were clearly beginning to feel at unease with a performer who feels unpractised in comedy. She diverts and asks if anyone is a subscriber to her OnlyFans. The room is silent.

Electric then spends most of her stage time asking the audience to decipher messages from clients with blanked out words. They are generally scatological or based on urolagnia for shock value. But if you’ve ever wanted to see a high-end escort for less than $800 an hour, this is probably your best chance.
★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray