REVIEW: Pramkicker - MO Theatre

Pramkicker by Sadie Hasler

Presented by MO Theatre and Door 3 Queensland Theatre

Hilarious, heartbreaking, hot pink, high-octane feminism. With teeth.

Synopsis

What happens when we want more—or less—than what the world expects? Well, as Jude and Susie learn, everyone has an opinion. Especially the ones who shouldn’t. Jude has always known she doesn’t want kids. Susie isn’t so sure. One day, surrounded by a sea of ‘yummy mummies’ in a café, Jude snaps—she kicks a pram down a flight of stairs (don’t worry, no baby involved), gets arrested, and ends up in court-ordered anger management. Susie tags along for moral support... and maybe to confess a secret of her own.

Sadie Hasler’s Pramkicker is a fierce, funny, and unfiltered exploration of womanhood, sisterhood, and the societal expectations placed on anyone with a uterus. Directed by Amy Ingram and Nerida Matthaei, this punchy, provocative, expletive-laced rally cry is for every woman who’s ever felt judged for not ticking the boxes of marriage and motherhood. It tears into the exhausting, generational conversation around what makes a woman “worthy”, especially outside the traditional pathways.

First Impressions

When you walk into the Diane Cilento Studio (Door 3), you don’t just take your seat. You enter a world. A school hall bulletin board, a line-up of abandoned prams, and a table offering cordial and biccies scream “primary school nostalgia.” Unless, of course, you’re a parent, in which case it might just feel like a Tuesday.

The immersive setup pulls the audience in immediately. We’re guided into a makeshift classroom by the voiceover of a “group leader,” while onstage, Jude—snarky and aloof—and Susie—frantic and friendly—are already there, checking name tags and dodging the “wet paint” sign as if we’re all members of the same anger management group. And for the next 75 minutes, we are.

Performances

Sarah Ann McLeod is formidable as Jude, fiercely clinging to her autonomy and unafraid to kick a metaphorical (or literal) pram to protect it. She’s dry, biting, and brimming with repressed rage that’s all too familiar to many child-free women. Her monologues on motherhood, worth, and invisible womanhood are searing and delivered with razor-sharp honesty. This isn’t just theatre for me. It’s catharsis.

Sarah Ogden, as Susie, is the perfect chaotic foil: bubbly, a little too accommodating, and carrying a truth she’s afraid to share. Her performance is a shape-shifting masterclass. Not only is she deeply believable as Susie, she also morphs into a gallery of side characters: a bougie British woman ranting about her trash husband, the snob café mum, a sleazy bogan bloke, a Ken-doll ex-boyfriend named Jason, an LA valley girl called Marcy... Every voice, posture, and facial expression lands. Honestly… what can’t this Sarah do?

Direction & Design

The direction is bold and brilliantly paced. Pramkicker never drags. Every beat is intentional. The sound design by Brady Watkins and lighting by Christine Felmingham elevate the piece, especially the vivid green spotlight monologues and the sardonic voiceovers that veer between absurd and oddly profound (“How do I feel about my period...? I LOVE IT!”). Ada Lukin’s set design nails that lo-fi school assembly vibe: mismatched, duct-taped chairs, a “Stay Cool” baby poster à la Banksy, and layers of DIY that ground the show in something instantly recognisable.

Emotional Impact

Beneath all the f-bombs and sarcasm lies something raw and real: this is ultimately a story about sisters. About how the same upbringing can yield wildly different paths. About the debt we owe each other—and ourselves—when it comes to honesty and choice. We uncover the 8-year age gap between Jude and Susie and the long-avoided truths. They bicker, they bond, they laugh and break down, sitting side by side in lawn chairs with full Kath & Kim energy, drink in hand.

There’s a plot twist I won’t spoil—but when it lands, it hits hard. And just when you think the show has made its point, it turns the mirror back on you and asks: What societal bullshit have you been putting up with? As a proud, single, child-free woman surrounded by engagements, weddings, pregnancies, and playdates, this show struck a deeply personal chord. It gave voice to the quiet rage of feeling like you “don’t count” without a wedding ring or a baby bump. That rage of being pitied, judged, or dismissed? That’s not fiction. And this show dared to scream back: I am enough.

And then there’s Susie, aching with the pressure of choosing the “right” path. Her monologue about motherhood, and the quote that stuck with me—“When does all the knowing start?”—was gutting.

Final Thoughts

And yet, through the anger and the ache, the show never loses its humour. We wheezed with laughter. There were groans of recognition from women all around me. The Brisbane references landed like little in-jokes for the whole audience. The slow-mo flashbacks (especially Jude’s pram-kick brawl) were downright side-splitting. And by the end, you might want to hug your sister, yell into a pillow, or go full Jude and kick a pram.

It’s the kind of show that lodges itself in your bones. That shakes you up. That lets you grieve and laugh at once. I highly recommend seeing it. Especially if you're angry. Or confused. Or just tired of being told what your life should look like.

CREATIVE TEAM

Directed by: Amy Ingram & Nerida Matthaei

Choreography by: Nerida Matthaei

Set & Costumes by: Ada Lukin

Lighting Design: Christine Felmingham

Sound Design: Brady Watkins

Stage Management: Lucy Kelland & Thea Raveneau

SHOW DETAILS

Duration: 75 minutes (no interval)

Recommended Age: 15+

Warnings: Contains haze, flashing lights, strong coarse language, and adult themes including sexual assault, pregnancy, abortion, and drug/alcohol use.

Tickets: https://queenslandtheatre.com.au/plays/pramkicker

Photography by Morgan Roberts