REVIEW: Pride & Prejudice - Queensland Theatre Company

Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice

Presented by: Queensland Theatre Company

Venue: Playhouse, QPAC

Adapted by: Wendy Mocke and Lewis Treston

Directors: Bridget Boyle and Daniel Evans

Designer: Christina Smith

Composer and Sound Designer: Guy Webster

Lighting Designer: Jason Glenwright

Choreographer: Nerida Matthaei

Production Photography: Morgan Roberts

If ever there were a production designed to steal my heart, it was this one. Queensland Theatre Company’s Pride & Prejudice took Austen’s familiar story and gave it a playful theatrical makeover. It embraced the romance (and absurdity) of Regency society without treating the original text like an untouchable museum piece.

In Pride and Prejudice, the fiercely independent Elizabeth Bennet navigates love, family expectations and nineteenth-century social politics in a world where marriage can determine a woman’s entire future. When she meets the enigmatic (and maddeningly aloof) Mr Darcy, sparks fly... but not necessarily in a good way. Misunderstandings, meddling relatives and more than a few scandals stand between them, forcing both to confront their own pride and prejudices. Will they see past their first impressions, or are they doomed to become each other’s greatest regret?

The moment the overture began, I recognised it instantly: Duomo’s version of Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams (yes, the one you know from Bridgerton). From that first note, the production established its intentions. This adaptation would honour Austen’s story while happily raiding the twenty-first century for music and movement.

At first glance, the stage seemed deceptively simple: a bare wooden floor that gave the actors complete freedom to move. But beneath that simplicity lay a cleverly designed world by Christina Smith. A multi-level structure stood at the back, its three concealed doors subtly adorned with a large map of England. More than just entry and exit points, these doors felt symbolic, hinting at the different paths and choices the characters might take. Framing it all was lush greenery, evoking the beauty of the English countryside. Every design choice felt intentional, striking a balance between historical authenticity and contemporary flair, creating a visual link between past and present.

Intricate scale models of Longbourn, Netherfield, Rosings and Pemberley transformed the setting between scenes. Even the changing seasons were marked in unexpected and creative ways. Jason Glenwright’s lighting design gave each location its own atmosphere and became especially impressive during the larger ballroom sequences and the eventual reveal of Pemberley, as seen in Morgan Roberts’ photographs.

Period-appropriate costuming also captured the era’s aesthetic and subtly reinforced the characters’ social standings and personalities. The Bennet family’s attire was simple and understated, a quiet nod to their modest means. Elizabeth stood out in her flattering baby-blue dress, while Jane exuded grace in coral red. In contrast, the Bingleys were draped in richly detailed fabrics, their opulent wardrobe a clear reflection of their higher social status.

The show fully embraced an anachronistic blend of period and modern aesthetics, especially in its dance sequences. Think classical spins on pop hits: Florence + The Machine’s Dog Days Are Over and Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy underscoring ballroom moments. And then came the boldest choice of all: a ballroom scene set to Rihanna’s S&M, complete with a glitter curtain and disco lights. It was unexpected, audacious and ridiculously fun! This playful collision of past and present didn’t just serve as a stylistic flourish. It actively reshaped the way the audience experienced the story. Hearing The Pussycat Dolls’ When I Grow Up underscore Lydia and Wickham’s storyline? Genius.

The choreography by Nerida Matthaei embraced the Regency-rave aesthetic with full commitment. Every dance number crackled with the flirtatious spirit of a social season in full swing, with elegant Regency steps colliding with uninhibited club-style movements. This fusion of styles reinforced the show’s irreverent approach to Austen’s themes, challenging traditional notions of social interaction, courtship and societal expectations. The production never settled into predictability. Instead, it thrived on spectacle that kept audiences guessing at every turn.

The performances were just as vibrant as the production itself. Madison Burridge was an absolute joy to behold as Elizabeth Bennet. She captured her spirited nature, intelligence, quick wit and unshakable confidence. A true leading lady, Burridge made Elizabeth feel refreshingly modern without losing her Regency charm. Burridge’s comic reactions were often as entertaining as the dialogue, landing every quip and retort with precision, especially in those delicious moments when Elizabeth cut through the societal nonsense with a single, perfectly placed remark. Plus, her exaggerated mimicry of Mr Darcy was particularly adorable.

When it came to Mr Darcy, Andrew Hearle arrived with the necessary reserve and aristocratic stiffness (truly the tall, dark and handsome archetype). His chemistry with Burridge crackled with intrigue, their exchanges layered with disdain, attraction and misunderstanding. Every sidelong glance and barbed remark was brimming with subtext. The slow burn of their dynamic kept the audience hanging on every word and every charged silence.

Hearle’s physicality was quintessentially Darcy. His rigid posture, carefully measured movements and reluctance to display emotion made Darcy radiate aristocratic detachment, as though he had been trained from birth never to look comfortable in public. But beyond the exterior, his delivery was meticulously crafted, channeling just enough Colin Firth to make me question whether he might actually be British. He leaned into Darcy’s aloofness with an almost comically rigid stiffness, making his eventual thaw from emotionally stifled gentleman to someone capable of warmth and sincerity all the more satisfying.

And then there was Jeremiah Wray as Wickham. He oozed charm with just the right amount of duplicity. His interplay with Burridge carried an enticing sense of risk, with every smile concealing information Elizabeth had not yet learned. They did not just flirt. They danced around one another, every interaction laced with an undercurrent of danger.

Cameron Hurry’s Mr Collins was the kind of character you love to loathe: utterly insufferable yet impossible to ignore. Every carefully crafted acting choice made your skin crawl, from his awkward social interactions to his delusions of grandeur and exaggerated self-importance. He fully embraced the character’s eccentricities, creating moments that were cringeworthy and uproariously funny. And then there was that voice. A bizarrely nasal affectation so distinct and jarring that I’m convinced if I tried to mimic it, I’d be forever trapped in its strange cadence. It was a voice that seemed to echo with an insistent need for validation, perpetually seeking approval from those around him while simultaneously repelling them with his incessant prattle. It was Hurry’s sheer commitment to the role that elevated him to a comedic highlight of the performance.

Amy Ingram was a revelation as both Charlotte Lucas and Caroline Bingley, brilliantly switching between the two very different characters. She brought a wonderfully pompous air to Miss Bingley, playing her with sharp snobbery, and then switched gears to portray Charlotte’s more grounded, down-on-her-luck nature with subtlety and heart. William Carseldine’s portrayal of Mr Bingley was full of charm. He played the bashful, adorably awkward gentleman with such sincerity, especially in his swooning over Jane, and honestly, it made me wish real-life men would be so unabashedly smitten.

The Bennet family dynamic was a riot, with each member bringing their own brand of chaos. Gael Ballantyne’s portrayal of Mrs Bennet was gloriously dramatic, capturing the frantic urgency of a mother obsessed with marrying off her daughters. Her scheming and shrill outbursts never failed to get laughs, especially when paired with her cartoonish strut, an exaggerated walk that perfectly encapsulated her desperate personality. As Mr Bennet, Bryan Probets was the perfect foil to his wife’s frantic energy. His dry wit and nonchalant attitude subtly stole scenes as his sarcastic delivery punctuated the chaos around him. The father-daughter dynamic with Elizabeth felt natural and endearing, and his appearances in the ballroom scenes, where he danced like nobody was watching, were an unexpected but side-splitting highlight.

Perry Mooney’s Jane Bennet was the epitome of calm elegance, offering a clear contrast to Elizabeth’s sharper temperament. Mooney’s performance was particularly notable for its subtlety. She conveyed Jane’s lovesickness over Mr Bingley with such depth that you could feel every ounce of hope and heartbreak as if they were your own.

In stark contrast, Courtney Cavallaro and Daphne Chen brought Lydia and Kitty Bennet to life with chaotic energy that was utterly entertaining. The duo’s performances were a whirlwind of youthful frivolity. Their scenes buzzed with raucous energy, aligning perfectly with the script’s intention to depict the two youngest Bennet sisters as exuberant and somewhat reckless. Cavallaro’s portrayal of Lydia, in particular, stood out. Her grating voice and childlike antics painted Lydia as a girl lost in the throes of make-believe, desperately pursuing attention and validation.

Chenoa Deemal turned Mary Bennet into an unexpected scene-stealer. Rather than allowing Mary to disappear behind a book, Deemal gave her a cynical, observant intelligence that recalled an Austen-era Eloise Bridgerton. She watched her family’s behaviour with the expression of someone already preparing the essay she would later write about them. The five Bennet sisters formed a convincing spectrum of womanhood, each responding differently to the expectations placed upon them.

Directed by Daniel Evans and Bridget Boyle, the production’s pacing was expertly balanced, with Act Two’s shift from comedy to drama hitting all the right emotional beats. But it was Lizzy’s monologue on womanhood that truly stood out to me. It was a powerful reminder of why Austen’s work remains so relevant today. Her words echoed with the struggles and triumphs of women, highlighting issues of agency and societal expectations that remain pertinent across generations. The depth of Burridge’s performance brought the audience into a hushed silence, allowing the weight of these insights to settle deeply into every heart in the room.

And then, there was the breathtaking Pemberley reveal. The scene unfolded with enchanting theatrical magic. Cascading petals floated gracefully down and twinkling lights created an ethereal atmosphere as the strings swelled. It was a moment that took your breath away, symbolising the hope and possibilities that awaited our leading lady. By the final scenes, I found myself kicking my feet and giggling girlishly.

For a few hours, I was completely transported into this world, absorbed in the intricacies of the characters’ lives, and I never wanted to leave. The production invited its audience to become caught up in the laughter, tears and messy complications of human connection. With its final weekend at QPAC cut short by Cyclone Alfred (the fiend!), I was lucky to catch the relaxed performance, although ‘relaxing’ is not quite the word I would use. The house lights remained dimly illuminated and the sound levels had reportedly been reduced, yet from the back of the stalls I still found the environment claustrophobic and overstimulating. A persistent cougher beside me prompted several audience members to relocate. At interval, I seized the opportunity to move to the front row of the balcony, which proved an excellent decision and gave me a stunning view of the second act. The midweek matinee was packed with excitable school groups and retirees, resulting in a noisy but enthusiastic audience.

This QTC production was a triumph of clever adaptation, stunning visuals and stellar performances. It honoured the wit and charm of Austen’s original while injecting an audacious theatricality that made it feel thrillingly alive. And it served as a pointed reminder that Pride & Prejudice has been setting unrealistic expectations for romance since 1813.