REVIEW: Your Song - The Little Red Company

Your Song

The Little Red Company

Venue: Brisbane Powerhouse

Director: Naomi Price

Cast: Jason Arrow, Luke Kennedy, Irena Lysiuk, John O’Hara

Band: Mik Easterman (drums), OJ Newcomb (bass), Damian Sim (keys), Stephen Ward (guitar)

I was barely in my seat before I was already smiling. Enormous shiny baubles hung around the stage, coloured lights danced across the space, and a live band sat ready to launch into a night of concert, cabaret, and storytelling.

And just to be clear, as they cheekily warn us early on, this is not an Elton John tribute show. “To avoid a lawsuit, none of us are playing Elton John.” What it is, though, is something far more interesting. Instead of impersonation, Your Song is built around real stories submitted by the public. Weddings, funerals, births, heartbreaks, identity journeys, chaotic life events… all tied together by the music of Elton. The cast bring these stories to life with short monologues and musical numbers, creating a patchwork of human experience that is deeply personal yet universal.

It also invites you to reflect on your own relationship with his music. I certainly found myself doing exactly that, thinking back to my first exposure through The Lion King (when I was still in the womb, technically), The Road to El Dorado, and the inevitable family vinyl collection. You’re not just watching a show, you’re remembering alongside it.

The quartet of Jason Arrow, Luke Kennedy, Irena Lysiuk, and John O’Hara are, quite frankly, annoyingly and ridiculously talented. The vocals are pristine across the board, with fresh harmonies when the arrangements take unexpected turns. Jason Arrow’s I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues leans into smooth, almost boyband-style harmonies (think Westlife meets Human Nature), while Luke Kennedy’s Rocket Man showcases a falsetto so clean, performed alongside Jason on guitar,

Irena Lysiuk is a standout in both presence and versatility. Her ukulele version of Your Song is gentle and sweetly funny (“you can tell everybody this is your song… or not”). She also brings emotional weight to Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word and, frankly, looks incredible doing all of it in that neon orange jumpsuit.

John O’Hara rounds out the group with engaging storytelling and strong musicality. His Crocodile Rock taps into a daggy Aussie dad energy that gets easy laughs, while Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, is stripped back to a raw, belted piano moment that feels like a private emotional release by John.

One of the show’s greatest strengths is its willingness to play with the material. You won’t hear these songs the way you expect, and that’s very much the point. Don’t Go Breaking My Heart becomes a road trip-ready country number with acoustic guitar and double bass, prompting the audience to bop along whether they mean to or not. The band, a tight four-piece, handles these stylistic shifts with ease. Piano features heavily (as it should), and the arrangements are consistently thoughtful rather than gimmicky. Candle in the Wind, joined by the Little Red Choir, is genuinely haunting, particularly as it connects to stories of Princess Diana. It’s one of those moments where the room noticeably stills.

The emotional range of the storytelling is where Your Song really finds its heart. Some stories are touching, particularly those centred on queer identity and self-discovery, reflecting the impact of Elton John’s unapologetic presence in both the industry and the world. Then there are the totally wild stories, like a roller-skating wedding set to Tiny Dancer involving a groom named Tony. And then there’s the divorce party set to I’m Still Standing, which is just pure catharsis and it might have been my favourite moment of the night. I would love if the audience was encouraged to stand up for that number, because it totally deserves it.

When the finale megamix arrives, showcasing iconic colored sunglasses, feathered shoulders, and a full-company dance party with songs like Can You Feel the Love Tonight, Pinball Wizard, That’s What Friends Are For, and more, it's nearly impossible not to be swept up in the excitement.

What makes this show land is its sense of connection. It’s polished, yes. The vocals are exceptional, the band is tight, the design is colourful and engaging. But it never feels distant or overly slick. There’s a genuine sense that the performers are sharing something with you, not just presenting it. It celebrates not just Elton John’s catalogue, but the way songs weave themselves into our lives, marking moments big and small. It’s heartfelt without being heavy, funny without undercutting its sincerity, and inventive without losing sight of what makes these songs so beloved in the first place.

And if you don’t like the arrangements? Well… you can always go home and put your Elton album on. But I’d recommend staying for this instead.