REVIEW: Ride the Cyclone - VOX Theatre Arts, Phoenix Ensemble

Book, Music, and Lyrics by Brooke Maxwell and Jacob Richmond

Presented by VOX Theatre Arts and Phoenix Ensemble After Dark

"My death has really affected me."

If you love your theatre with a side of dark humour, brutal honesty, and some seriously eclectic musical styles, Ride the Cyclone delivered a wild, emotional carousel ride that was hard to forget. This Canadian musical about six teens trapped in limbo after a freak rollercoaster accident managed to be equal parts hilarious, haunting, and deeply sincere.

The show’s premise was brilliant: The Amazing Karnak, a fortune-telling animatronic machine with a delightfully dry wit (brought to "life" by Dan Konstantinos), granted each teen one chance to plead their case for a second shot at life. Only one could win, and each character’s song became a window into their soul—a vibrant patchwork of genres from pop ballads to rap to gothic waltzes.

Karnak himself was a standout in this production. Dan’s physical puppetry was so clever and committed that I kept glancing over to catch what subtle movements or character choices Karnak was making—even when he wasn’t speaking. Each character introduction, delivered by Karnak, was paired with a nostalgic slideshow of real-life baby and childhood photos of the actors, adding a heartbreaking layer of realism—except for Jane Doe, of course, whose identity remained unknown.

Visually, the revolving carousel set served as a perfect metaphor for the dizzying purgatory these characters inhabited. The lighting design was particularly striking in the opening scene, as Jane Doe’s headless silhouette flickered into view. I saw a Swing performance, and the cast was an absolute treasure trove. Erin Hall portrayed Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg with intense, "type-A teen" confidence. Her song What the World Needs was bold and commanding, and her crash out was a full-throttle Rachel Berry-style spiral in all the best ways.

Dom Bradley, as Mischa, brought the house down with his autotuned rap This Song Is Awesome, then revealed surprising emotional depth in his tender ballad Talia, played alongside a short film featuring Clare Thomson. It was also a joy to watch the rest of the cast during each solo; everyone remained fully in character, adding texture with every reaction.

Isaac Brown’s performance as the tragique Noel Gruber was nothing short of brilliant. He nailed the fabulous, cabaret-loving loner with theatrical flair and gorgeous vocals. His rendition of Noel’s Lament, accompanied by August Cocks on accordion and Dom as his doomed Parisian lover, was one of the most memorable scenes of the night. Isaac’s voice was so polished it could have been lifted from the original cast recording.

Eloise Newman, as Constance, grounded the show with sweetness, relatability, and quiet strength beneath her insecurity. Her interactions with Ocean, paired with her vulnerable Sugarcloud ballad, revealed the pain behind her ever-smiling facade. She captured the Canadian "saw-rry" pushover vibe with such heartbreaking reality.

Makenzi Goodwin’s Jane Doe delivered the haunting showstopper Ballad of Jane Doe with an ethereal, operatic soprano that sent chills down my spine. Surrounded by carousel horses and fairy lights, her solo felt like stepping into a dream you weren’t sure if you wanted to wake from. With a perfectly vibrant wig, unsettling white contact lenses, and twitchy, doll-like puppet movements, Makenzi’s Jane was equal parts adorable and creepy. She was magnetic every time she floated across the stage.

August Cocks as Ricky was the quiet, quirky dreamer who who eventually reveals his kinky-Bowie alter ego in Space-Age Bachelor Man. His transition from quiet bystander to cosmic fetish fantasy icon was hilarious, bold, and somehow still touching. The show gave him his “safe space,” and he took it—glitter and all!

Director Rhona Bechaz’s vision was clear and thoughtful in every moment. The pacing was tight, the emotional beats landed, and the character arcs shone. Monologues flowed seamlessly into songs, and the most poignant moments—especially Noel and Constance’s—were handled with care. Choreographers Hannah Macri and Kirsten Brown used stylised, character-driven movement that elevated the mood and genre of each number.

The music, led by Alex Angus and Maddy Simons, was superb. Special mention to guitarist Hayley Gravina for adding gorgeous texture throughout her solo sections. The sound design navigated a complex wall of harmonies and layered vocals with impressive clarity, although the male-heavy harmonies occasionally overpowered the mix. Still, it never detracted from the vocal powerhouse that was this cast.

Ride the Cyclone felt like Six’s Canadian cousin—six vibrant, flawed, fascinating characters wrestling with death, identity, and the meaning of their short lives in an unfiltered way. This production balanced humour, absurdity, and heartfelt introspection with astonishing precision, and absolutely nailed it from start to finish.

If you were lucky enough to see this production, you know exactly what I mean. I’m talking serious FOMO for anyone who missed it. As one character wisely said, “It took a horrible accident for me to realise how goddamn wonderful everything is.”

Photography by Lavender Productions / Pavitra Tandon and Tayla Simpson