REVIEW: Parade - Bump In Productions

Some shows entertain, and some leave a mark. Parade did both. In just two and a half hours, Bump In Productions delivered gut-punching storytelling, soaring vocals, and unflinching honesty. It was my first encounter with Jason Robert Brown’s Tony Award-winning masterpiece, and I left the theatre utterly floored.

For those unfamiliar, Parade is not your usual feel-good, dance-till-curtain musical (despite its misleading title). Set in Georgia, USA in 1913, it recounts the true and tragic story of Leo Frank, a Jewish factory superintendent who found himself accused of murdering 13-year-old Mary Phagan. With flimsy evidence, rampant prejudice, and a town hungry for vengeance, Leo was sentenced to death, pardoned, then lynched. It is a chilling tale of injustice, mob mentality, and misplaced hatred, but also one of love and resilience, thanks to the devotion of his wife, Lucille.

From the very first number, ‘The Old Red Hills of Home’, fresh QAEMT Con graduate Jay Monck opened the show in an astonishing display of vocal power, setting the bar sky-high for what was to come. The ensemble followed with the patriotic Confederate Day celebration ‘The Dream of Atlanta’, an unsettling opener for modern audiences, but brilliantly effective in establishing the dangerous undercurrent of the time.

The Performances

Michael Lewis gave a tour-de-force performance as Leo Frank, a Brooklynite Jew trapped in the unforgiving hostility of the Deep South. His every nuance carried the weight of fear and isolation: the anxious fidgeting, the sheen of sweat, the trembling voice that cracked under panic. His distress was palpable, his confusion devastating, and his humanity undeniable.

Belinda Lewis was extraordinary as Lucille Frank, a woman whose world crumbles before our eyes yet somehow holds onto her poise and grit. ‘What Am I Waiting For’ shimmered with yearning, while ‘You Don’t Know This Man’ erupted with righteous fury and heartbreak. When she and Michael reunited for ‘All the Wasted Time’, it was a moment of pure tenderness as two souls cling to love before the inevitable darkness; made even more poignant by the fact that they are a real married couple.

Mabel Tamone radiated as Mary Phagan, the picture of small-town youth, blissfully unaware of the violence waiting just around the corner. Her duet ‘The Picture Show’ with Casey Martin’s Frankie Epps was playful yet carried a thread of unease beneath the flirtation. Later, Casey’s ‘It Don’t Make Sense’ became a gut-wrenching outpouring of grief that swiftly hardened into anger as right-wing extremist Tom Watson (Chris White) and prosecutor Hugh Dorsey (Jay Monck) whipped the town into a vengeful frenzy.

Jay Monck and Chris White made formidable antagonists: slick, smirking, and utterly unrepentant. Corruption oozed through every exchange, from blackmailing witnesses to twisting the truth for public favour in ‘Somethin’ Ain’t Right’. The line “You want evidence? Look at him!” hit like a punch to the gut, exposing just how flimsy the case against Leo truly was.

Alex Watson as reporter Britt Craig gave the story its pulse, narrating events with journalistic flair and bright, confident vocals in ‘Big News’. Both he and David McLaughlin, as Governor Slaton, charted compelling arcs of conscience and growth. Matthew McKenzie was another standout as Jim Conley, delivering ‘That’s What He Said’ with irresistible rhythm, soul, and storytelling prowess. The number was so electrifying that the audience instinctively wanted to applaud, but the seamless transition into the next scene left us sitting in stunned silence instead.

As Mary’s grieving mother, Nicole Kaminski’s poignant ‘My Child Will Forgive Me’ stilled the room, her sorrow palpable. Mabel Tamone then reappeared in spirit for ‘Come Up to My Office’, her ethereal vocals blending with the eerie harmonies of Lucy Ross, Paige McKay, and Carly Bettinson in a chilling depiction that cast Leo as the monster of their imagining.

The Act II number ‘Rumblin’ and a Rollin’ featured Ashton Simpson, Mina Aanat, and Matthew McKenzie as the trio of Black workers whose simmering frustration at the injustice around them added a striking layer to the story. While the world fixated on Leo’s case, they reminded us of the deeper racial divide simmering beneath it — a powerful, soul-stirring commentary on America’s hypocrisy.

Later, David McLaughlin’s Governor John Slaton began to re-examine the case, urged on by Lucille’s relentless belief in the truth. In ‘This Is Not Over Yet’, Belinda Lewis shone once again as Lucille exposed Hugh’s deceit and blackmail, cementing herself as the true hero of the story.

Music and Direction

Jason Robert Brown’s score is notoriously difficult, filled with complex rhythms, jagged harmonies, and sudden tempo changes, but Michael Keen (Musical Director) and his band pulled it off with precision and passion. Numbers like ‘Big News’ exploded in frenzied chaos, capturing the media’s role in stoking hysteria. ‘It Goes On and On’ (sung by Alex Watson) built into a show-stopping ensemble moment, while ‘Blues: Feel the Rain Fall’ (led by Matthew McKenzie) filled the theatre with soulful intensity.

Director Johnny Peek staged this musical masterfully, particularly the trial scenes. The testimonies were paced with unbearable tension: witnesses spinning lies under Hugh’s shark-like questioning while the jury averted their eyes from Leo, leaving him to sob through his statement, bewildered and broken. Jay’s villainous smirk as the town turned against Leo was chilling.

The sound quality was superb, with discreetly hidden head mics ensuring crystal clarity, while historically accurate costumes and headwear grounded us firmly in 1913. David Lawrence’s set design embraced minimalism that allowed each scene to bleed seamlessly into the next. Scene changes were swift and efficient, never breaking the tension, often filled with choral interludes from the ensemble that gave the show a haunting continuity.

The Impact

What made this production unforgettable was its energy from the cast and the audience. Opening night buzzed with electric intensity. Scene changes left no time for applause, but trust me, inside we were bursting! The finale was incredible and overwhelming: an ensemble wall of sound that hit like a tidal wave, ending with Leo’s tragic death and Lucille’s broken grief. Michael’s final moments as Leo - whimpering, questioning God’s reason, bewildered by the injustice - were almost unbearable to watch. As the last note rang out, silence hung heavy before applause erupted. More than one audience member near me whispered, “That was the best show I’ve seen all year.” I couldn’t argue.

Parade is not light entertainment. It is uncomfortable, confronting, and profoundly human (in a bad way). It asks impossible questions: Who truly murdered Mary Phagan? Was it the night watchman, the 19-year-old boy, the scapegoated Black worker, or someone else entirely? We never find out, and that’s the point. The show forces us to sit with the crushing injustice, the prejudice, and the cost of hate. Yet, through Lucille, it also gives us hope... a reminder that love, courage, and faith can flicker even in the darkest shadows.

For a company new to Brisbane stages, this was an astonishing achievement: worthy of QPAC’s grand stage, worthy of thunderous applause, and worthy of remembrance.

Photography by Stage Shots