REVIEW: Welcome to Thebes - Queensland Conservatorium

Presented at Queensland Multicultural Centre

Performed by the graduating class of Queensland Conservatorium 2025, with additional students swelling the ensemble, Welcome to Thebes was a bold, gutsy, and timely reimagining of the Greek tale. In this version, Thebes has emerged from civil war and is taking its first fragile steps into democracy under newly appointed President Eurydice. When she invites Theseus of Athens to provide aid, their uneasy diplomacy spirals into a gripping clash of politics, ego, misogyny, and the brutal cost of power.

From the first glance at Claira Ruthenberg’s set, a chaotic sprawl of dishevelled fabrics and disarray accompanied by the noise of helicopters, it was clear we were placed in a world scarred by war. Costumes blurred eras, with gleaming gold jewellery and the occasional toga paired with contemporary military uniforms and sharp business wear. Keith Clark’s lighting and projections bathed it all in an unsettling haze. Time felt fluid here: gods and cell phones, togas and guns, ancient warcraft and modern bureaucracy all colliding in a world that was both mythic and eerily familiar.

The cast rose brilliantly to the challenge of this sprawling story, with the script giving generous space for each performer to shine. At its centre was Angela Lal as Eurydice. Her performance was outstanding: a leader both dignified and fearful, balancing the demands of diplomacy with the weight of personal loss, all underpinned by a steely will. Her restraint, followed by the raw emotional release of her Act Two monologue, left the room completely hushed. As she described the war’s devastation on her family, it felt as though her piercing words were drawn straight from a mother’s soul.

Opposite her, Matthew Ianna’s Theseus was the embodiment of smug entitlement, a condescending superpower leader who offered aid with one hand while twisting the arm with the other. His character summed up by his own statement: “one fist is for force and one for peace”, was a fascinating arc into vulnerability and understanding. His Act One debate with Eurydice crackled with tension, as he dismissed her and her nation’s plight with bored contempt. Women in the audience audibly groaned at his arrogance; a perfectly delivered mansplaining masterclass. Later, his full-blown tantrum was comedy gold, a petulant ruler crashing against a stateswoman who refused to yield.

On the other side of the political spectrum, Riley Fahey’s Prince Tydeus was terrifying in his charisma: a former warlord and current opposition leader dripping with misogyny and violence, who relished in the power of being feared. His partnership with Cecilia Varese’s Pargeia (the Barbie/Melania to his Ken/Trump) was sinister and magnetic. Varese nailed the duality of smiling diplomat on camera and razor-edged manipulator in private; a deliciously duplicitous performance throughout.

Jordana Wenke’s Antigone was tortured heartbreak in motion, caught between grief for her brother and horror at his crimes, while Ari Banerjee’s Ismene sparred with her in a spirited sibling debate that gave space to both tenderness and fire. Together, Antigone, Ismene, and Eurydice found a kind of sisterhood — comforting, arguing, listening — that felt like true girlhood in extremity. Emma Kidd’s opening monologue as the armed woman was another gut-punch, reminding us with raw conviction that: “Women gave us peace.”

Rushad Katrak as Scud, the child soldier, drove home the horror of war when he erupted into gunfire mid-diplomatic meeting; a sequence staged with jarring intensity, flour exploding as “blood” in a brilliantly visceral touch. Another deeply affecting moment came from the mechanic character, who relayed the death of his son at Tydeus’ hands with such detail that it etched itself painfully into my imagination. There were also flashes of humour amidst the brutality: Grae Faint as the deadpan secretary Thylthibia was a perfect foil to the chaos, and Liam McMahon’s Tiresias went gloriously over-the-top as the dramatic seer.

But it was the themes that resonated most: the fragility of democracy, the cycles of authoritarianism, the exploitation of post-war nations by so-called allies, and the human cost of political games. The lines that seemed to echo straight into today’s headlines gave the play its lasting bite:

• “Are your wars more advanced because you don’t hear the screams?”

• “It can happen anywhere there is tyranny. Are you scared?”

• “The best of us keep quiet. Those who shout the loudest always win.”

Each landed like a warning bell. The final image of refugees walking towards Athens, uncertain whether they would meet open gates or be turned away — was haunting in its relevance.

Welcome to Thebes was not just a retelling of an ancient downfall; it was a mirror held up to our own world, exposing fragile democracies and the dangerous spaces where tyrants thrive. This play was a terrific choice to showcase both individual talent and a cohesive piece of group theatre. The director, Timothy Wynn, ensured this sprawling ensemble had room to shine, delivering a production that was urgent, intelligent, and emotionally charged. With its heady mix of myth and modernity, this was an ambitious and fiery finale for the Conservatorium’s graduating class; proof that student theatre can tackle difficult political material with nuance and artistry.

Warnings: Violence, sexual assault, suicide, grief, gun use, death.