Tarzan – The Stage Musical Based on the Disney film The Spotlight Theatrical Company Directed by Stuart Morgan Music Direction by Matt Pearson Choreography by Jennifer and Perrin Gilbert Photography by Clay English from Vargo Studios Fellow millennials, let’s go back to 1999. Phil Collins of Genesis has just dropped a killer soundtrack for an Disney animated film about a jungle-raised man. Fast forward to now, and Tarzan The Stage Musical  swings straight back into that era of big music and bigger heart. I strolled into Tarzan  at Spotlight Theatre all set for a nostalgia trip, and before I knew it, I was swinging through a full jungle of emotions! This production doesn’t just tiptoe into the magic of Disney. It catapults off it, vine-swinging into a wild theatrical adventure that is thrilling, acrobatic, immersive, and impressively ambitious. As a 90s kid, I instantly vibe with director Stuart Morgan. Just like me, his childhood was shaped by the Disney Renaissance and those animated classics that taught us life’s most important lesson: singing absolutely solves everything. This production honours the emotional core of the story while embracing theatrical spectacle, creative risk, and a level of scale that genuinely made me whisper, “Seriously, what was their budget?!" Set deep within the African jungle, Tarzan  follows a young boy orphaned after a tragic shipwreck and a run-in with a leopard, who is raised by a family of gorillas. Taken in by the gentle Kala after she loses her own baby, Tarzan grows up learning the rhythms of jungle life, but as he matures, he begins to question where he truly belongs. When a group of humans arrive to study the wildlife, including the adventurous Jane Porter, Tarzan finds himself caught between two worlds. Before the show even begins, the jungle is alive . The "animals" roam the auditorium, interacting with the audience and being “fed” with $1 cups of animal feed available from the theatre bar. So playful and immersive, and immediately lowers the fourth wall. This is theatre that wants to drag you right into the wild world, not just sit there like a frog on a log. Stepping into the cool, dark air of Halpin Auditorium, the sound of crashing waves surrounds you. A scrim reveals an old-world map projection, with a ship sailing towards Africa. The ocean grows rough, the sound swells, and suddenly Father, Mother, and Baby Tarzan are caught in the storm, tumbled by the sea and fighting for survival. These opening moments are cinematic, tense, and beautifully staged. Then the set is revealed… Designed by Stuart Morgan and Peter Maden , this jungle is everywhere! It's as if they gathered every green and brown fabric they could find, knotted them, and hung them up to make the stage wings so densely decorated that performers had to pull them aside like curtains to enter. Upstage, a ladder climbs to a platform and a gigantic tree trunk dominates the space, opening to reveal a treehouse constructed from shipping crates... Tarzan’s first home. The lower section opens for more transformations, and cleverly integrated behind the environment is the twelve-piece band. From the opening number “Two Worlds”, the ensemble’s physicality knocked my socks off. Bare feet of course, backs hunched, weight dropped low, and plenty of grunts. Did the ensemble genuinely study gorilla movements for weeks?! It certainly looks that way! While they obviously cannot walk fully on their knuckles, they incorporate knuckle-based gestures and hunched stances with impressive commitment. The upper-body strength of the rope climbers is unreal, and the ensemble never drops character, even in the background. Watch them closely, there are some very funny choices happening. At the heart of it all is Flynn Anderson as Tarzan. After Brock Drinkwater was accepted into WAAPA (congrats!), he had to step away from the production, allowing Flynn to step in! Though his role has few words, his acting is precious, sincere, and captivating. Flynn communicates beautifully through movement, stillness, and presence. Plus, his singing voice is outstanding. In “Son of Man” (a song I've definitely listened to over a hundred times), the cast delivers everything I could have hoped for. The transition from young to grown Tarzan is slick, capped off with an incredible acrobatic (leap-flippy-feet) move that I cannot even explain, only applaud. Later, in “Strangers Like Me,” there's a minor timing issue between Tarzan, the band, and the offstage harmony, but Flynn powers through with his stunning tone. He truly has the voice of a Disney prince, which is quite fitting given his name. Someone please stage Aladdin  immediately so Flynn can star in it. Alannah Eyerich is a sensational Jane Porter. She leans fully into the proper British accent and fast-talking curiosity, crafting a Jane who is youthful, excitable, intelligent, and deeply passionate. Her first solo, “Waiting for This Moment”, introduces her in spectacular style, surrounded by ensemble members as flowers while an enormous (Audrey II-style) carnivorous plant attempts to make her lunch. Alannah’s voice is bright, pitch-perfect, and expressive, with gorgeous dynamic contrast and seamless register shifts. Jane's falling-in-love ballad “For the First Time” becomes a split-stage duet with Tarzan, keeping them physically separate yet emotionally connected. It is beautifully directed, with both performers equally passionate and vocally matched. Their duet “Different” sees Jane and Tarzan narrate aloud, not understanding each other’s language, while the stage explodes with visual storytelling. Vines descend from above, the ensemble leap and climb, an aerialist flies on silks (REALLY), ropes swing across, and movement ripples through the jungle. Flynn and Alannah remain the calm centre as friendship and understanding collide with the chaos. Dana Sandry as Kala is simply breathtaking, radiating warmth and maternal strength. Dressed in warm tones of orange, brown, and purple, and crimped hair with colourful clip-ins. Her voice feels like a comforting embrace, and her face is beautifully expressive; whether distorted with grief or filled with love. When she sings “You’ll Be in My Heart” to a doll baby Tarzan (who, by the way, has a hilariously full head of hair!), it hits you right in the feels with sincerity and tenderness. Perrin Gilbert as the silverback gorilla Kerchak carries low-bellied tone and simmering intensity. His singing voice carries weight, his posture screams dominance, and his almost-constant gruffness makes his emotional arc with Kala and Tarzan especially effective. On the flip side, Jonathan Whitlow as Tarzan's bestie Terk is the ultimate scene-stealer. His character is a cocktail of hilarity and sharp detail, and his song “Who Better Than Me” is my top pick for tunes that are not in the movie, paired with some of the most energetic and physically demanding choreography in the show. “Trashing the Camp” is another jaw-dropper, led by Jonathan with ferocious energy and full-throttle vocals. Young Tarzan is played by James Mitchell and Oscar Borrett (I saw Oscar), who is sweet, confident, and comfortable on stage with significant storytelling responsibility. Perrin’s real-life child Charles Gilbert plays the baby gorilla. He is adorable… until he is eaten by the leopard. Spoiler alert. I have genuinely never seen a kid so young on stage before! Harrison Salter as the Leopard is so convincing I wonder if he was raised by actual cats. He moves on all fours with feline agility, slinking through the aisles, across the stage, and up the ladder in total silence. The Tarzan versus Leopard stage combat is epic, staged with clarity and care, and plays as a battle of instinct versus intelligence, agility versus strength. Joe Bourke adds another splash of warmth and humour as Professor Porter, playing him as an excitable scientist and doting dad. His cheerful embrace of Tarzan, his fascination, and his affection for his daughter are clearly portrayed in "Like No Man I’ve Seen." Meanwhile, Daniel Carson steps in during Act Two as the arrogant, dogmatic antagonist Clayton. Zak Drew makes a heartfelt comeback as Tarzan’s father for "Everything That I Am" alongside Flynn and Oscar. Additionally, Nicolette Ditchburn's breathtaking atmospheric vocals drift through the jungle like mist every now and then. The live music is an absolute jackpot. Under the direction of Matt Pearson , the band turns up the volume, with the percussion leading the way! It felt like a second heartbeat pounding within me. Costumes by Pina Crisafulli Omeros are richly textured fabrics, paired with deeply contoured makeup, dirtied skin, and wild hair. The gorilla makeup on Terk, Kala and Kerhak in particular is stunning and deserves special recognition (but I don’t know who to credit, sorry!). Lighting by Leonnie Jones and Ariana Sinner paints the jungle floor with layered patterns and lush colours, while projections by Stuart Morgan mark the passage of time and shifting worlds. Nick Willner's sound design is immersive, featuring bird calls, gunshots, roaring animals, and more. The choreography by Jennifer and Perrin Gilbert blends naturalistic movement with modern technique, showcasing the cast's remarkable endurance as they deliver backing vocals while in constant motion. Each dancer is a dynamo, wholeheartedly committed, and highly skilled. Seriously, what’s in the water on the Gold Coast?! The talent coming out of this region is extraordinary, with performers shaped by training grounds like NAPA, SEPAC, Spotlight Youth, and beyond; enabling Spotlight Theatre's performances to consistently excel in choreography and casting. If you want a swinging good time, you absolutely need to catch Tarzan – The Stage Musical . It’s got storytelling that will make you grin like a chimp, mind-blowing routines, stunning vocals, and epic production values. Even the bows were a spectacle!

From the very first downbeat, this concert made it abundantly clear that this was not going to be a polite evening of string quartet. Nope, this was strings unleashed . The event, hosted by Nicholas Tam in partnership with Honour Productions, began with an exhilarating rendition of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep. The performance showcased four outstanding string musicians, accompanied by keyboard and drums, all enhanced by dramatic programmed lighting, swirling fog, and a fully electrifying sound experience. Free earplugs were provided at the entrance, as the performance was magnificently loud and immersive! One of the most impressive elements of the performance was the cohesion between the instrumentalists. With string superstars Kat Augustakis (Violin I), Nyssa Corney (Violin II), and Asa Deacon (Violin III), alongside Sam Hewerdine on keys, Mitchell Patullo on guitar, Julian Sagan on bass, and Nathanael Clyde Tadle on drums. With no conductor, this ensemble was completely locked in with each other, listening attentively and responding instinctively. The setlist itself was clearly curated with purpose, personality, and a deep love of music spanning all genres. And this year’s song choices were absolutely fire! The program dipped into classical territory with Fauré’s Pavane Op. 50  and Corelli’s Christmas Concerto , offering moments of elegance and restraint before launching straight back into contemporary and film. Nicholas Tam on cello beautifully led Hans Zimmer’s Time  from Inception . The slow tempo, rich tone, and low pulsing orange lights created a moment that begged the audience to close their eyes and simply feel. It was cinematic, meditative, and quietly breathtaking. Then came Test Drive  from How To Train Your Dragon by John Powell, and honestly.... goosebumps from the first note. Somehow, with just six instruments, the ensemble created the illusion of a full orchestra. The drive, the lift, the sheer scale of sound was astonishing. Vivaldi’s Winter received a rock-infused makeover that absolutely ripped. Cymbals crashed, the harpsichord shimmered, and each violinist had their own frantic, virtuosic solo moment. When the kick drum hit and fully synchronised lighting blasted along with it, I genuinely felt like moshing.... at a string concert. The millennial heart of the setlist then made itself known quickly! We veered into Britney Spears’ Toxic  in a killer metal arrangement, Linkin Park’s Numb , and a Green Day medley featuring American Idiot , Boulevard of Broken Dreams , 21 Guns , Holiday  and more — all expertly arranged by Kat. There was something genuinely surreal about hearing the strings absolutely slay the melody of Numb  while my brain filled in the lyrics from 23 years ago! It felt like an out-of-body experience. Nostalgia hit hard during Boulevard of Broken Dreams , where I could see Asa mouthing the words while playing. These performers weren’t just executing notes; they were living the music. They were clearly having an absolute ball onstage, and I hope they could hear the whoops, cheers, and very enthusiastic reactions coming from the audience. This was a show for all ages. I even brought along some aspiring music students of mine, and watching their faces light up was incredibly special. The lighting design deserves its own standing ovation. It went so  hard, elevating every genre shift and accentuating the drama of each piece. It was bold, dynamic, and perfectly matched to the music. Later highlights included an absolutely ferocious arrangement of Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr Crowley , arranged by Nyssa and Mitchell, complete with electric guitar solos that went all in. And of course, the Pirates of the Caribbean theme absolutely slapped! The encore was the cherry on top... Holding Out for a Hero, the Shrek 2 version, made famous by Jennifer Saunders. It was perfection. No notes. A joyous, cathartic, crowd-pleasing end to an already stellar night. This concert powerfully showcased the unlimited potential of string instruments in contemporary music. It's always a loud, thrilling, and mind-blowing experience and I look forward to the next one! May I please request Avril Lavigne's I'm With You and the scores to Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron and Peter Pan (2003). Photographs: Jamie Cripwell Photography

Deal With It! – Hanson Creative Presented at PIP Theatre Written by  Aimee Sheather and Aarya Dath Directed by  Aimee Sheather and Aarya Dath Set Design by  Aimee Sheather Sound Design by  Aarya Dath Producer  Emma Hanson Deal With It! by Hanson Creative is a dark comedy-thriller that manages to be sharply witty while poking at some uncomfortable truths. All with a devilish grin. Literally. Set in a Brisbane sharehouse littered with Amazon boxes, we meet couple Alix and Max, whose lives are quietly unravelling thanks to their elusive roommate Bridget. She is behind on rent, jobless, and rarely home… until suddenly everything shifts. When money appears, blood stains turn up, and suspicion starts to brew. What unfolds is a slow-burn mystery with supernatural twists, dark laughs, and a growing sense that something far more sinister is at play. Without giving too much away, Bridget has made a deal with the devil via your everyday, run-of-the-mill satanic ritual. In exchange for wealth, she becomes tangled in the manipulative grip of Zizi, a sharply dressed, smooth-talking devil who delights in pulling the strings as puppet master of Bridget’s fate. Ruby Gleeson (Max) and William Kasper (Alix) are the undeniable comedic dynamite of the show, with a rhythm that feels instinctive and easy. Ruby’s Max considers herself a detective, concocting wildly imaginative theories while concealing a little darkness of her own. William’s Alix is peak golden retriever energy, friendly, goofy, and blissfully oblivious. Their scenes consistently guaranteed plenty of giggles. Gianni-Mia Attril-Dowling gives Bridget a withdrawn, internalised intensity. Bridget is something of a hermit, often journalling her thoughts aloud to the audience rather than interacting with those around her, which creates an eerie sense of distance. Her moments of vulnerability land well and will only grow stronger with further development of the character, particularly when the themes turn toward women’s autonomy, fear, and survival. One line in particular really got me, “I don’t hate men, but it’s something I tell myself to stay sane”. Caleb Hockings is fabulous as Zizi the devil, strutting onstage in a sparkly red and black tux with a low, gruff, wonderfully theatrical delivery. His physicality and vocal precision give the character real presence, and his puppeteering of Connor Costin’s characters is cleverly staged. Even in the darker moments, humour sneaks in unexpectedly, with “Please, my cats need me!” earning a big laugh from me (cause... real). Connor also does excellent work as Paul, a man Bridget meets at a bar who is immediately unsettling. His casual entitlement quickly curdles into something far more disturbing. Kyle Armstrong also pops up as John, the Amazon delivery driver, in brief but consistently great moments; short, sweet, and always a treat! Visually, the show commits hard to its colour aesthetic. The set features towering red velvet curtains, a crimson rug, a black and red chaise lounge straight out of soap opera, a marble table, a raised stage with string pulled taut in patterns, and an ever-growing pile of Amazon boxes that anchor the supernatural story firmly in modern domestic life. It is striking without being cluttered. Sound design is particularly effective, using eerie droning textures, sharply timed effects, and music cues to signal the passage of time. Red lighting washes the stage during darker scenes, heightening the sense of danger, while fake blood makes multiple appearances. Stage combat is also well executed to add to the tension. The only consistent technical note is projection. A memorable monologue describing lucid dreams, delivered beautifully by Gianni-Mia,  would have benefited from more volume, particularly when facing away from the audience without a microphone. Direction is solid and confident, especially given this is a brand-new play written by local artists, Aimee Sheather and Aarya Dath. The script is interesting and ambitious, revealing itself slowly and trusting the audience to piece things together. I particularly enjoyed the distinct Brisbane references scattered throughout the script. Plus, well-placed references to the Daniel Craig character in Knives Out  was particularly satisfying because I have JUST recently seen it and caught the joke. Deal With It! is a rare beast, a thriller comedy that blends humour, horror, and social commentary with a distinctly Brisbane flavour. This is an ambitious, locally written work with a strong cast, clever design, and plenty of originality. With further workshopping development (split staging scenes, higher urgency, etc), it has the potential to go even further. If you like your theatre just a little bit satanic, Deal With It!  is well worth catching.

Spring Awakening – Gold Coast Little Theatre Warnings:  Mature themes, explicit sexual content, abuse, sexual assault, abortion, suicide, coarse language. Directed by: Nathan French Music Direction by : Taylor Holmes Photography: Buttery Smooth Images “The lost still walk behind you.” Adapted from Frank Wedekind’s groundbreaking and controversial play, Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik’s Spring Awakening is a rock musical that remains hauntingly relevant. Set in conservative Germany in 1891, the narrative follows a group of young teens as they grapple with the mysteries of the birds and the bees (without Google to help back then!) Among them are Melchior, a headstrong young man with self-taught knowledge of all sexual matters; Wendla, an innocent and curious girl; and the deeply anxious Moritz, who is struggling with both academics and sexual fantasies. These poor kids attempt to navigate puberty while being crushed beneath religious morality, strict schooling, and inherited shame. This leads to a compelling exploration of sexual awakening, repression, and the tragic consequences of adult neglect and ignorance. Nathan French’ s direction makes excellent use of the space, with frequent split staging allowing multiple emotional realities to coexist onstage. The raised rear platform, ladders, rigid frames, and moving set pieces — designed by Andrew Kassab — are adorned with vines and autumnal leaves, creating a striking visual contrast between natural growth and imposed restraint. The set functions as playground, prison, and battleground all at once. Georgia Ogge’ s choreography prioritises emotional truth over spectacle. Movement is often restrained and deliberate, or suddenly explosive when repression finally cracks. Combat and intimacy are handled carefully, supported by Jocelyn Moore-Carter’ s intimacy coordination; an essential safety net in a production requiring this level of vulnerability. The production uses recorded tracks rather than a live band, which proves a practical choice, with vocal direction by Taylor Holmes . That flexibility became crucial on opening night, as Jack Flanagan (Melchior) was required to project heavily through microphone issues for much of Act One. Despite this, his performance never faltered. His opening solo, “All That’s Known,” immediately showcases a stunning, controlled voice and an effortless, natural acting presence. Flanagan possesses this rare combination of vocal beauty and emotional truth (particularly impressive for an 18-year-old performer) and he anchors the production with beautiful sincerity and depth. From the moment the boys appear in Latin class, rigid with fear before their professor, the male ensemble threatens to steal the show. There is an undeniable je ne sais quoi  to this ensemble that is magnetic to watch. “The Bitch of Living” explodes with raw teenage frustration, desire, and torment. Each boy brings a distinct vocal colour, united by the pressure to succeed in a system stacked cruelly against them. Jolan Walker is excellent as the harsh authority figure, belittling Moritz with chilling realism. Emerson Bell’s Wendla is heartbreakingly believable. “Mama Who Bore Me” (the one song I knew going in) is delivered with pure, childlike curiosity, perfectly capturing a girl in bloom with no understanding of what her body is becoming. Olivia French , as Wendla’s conservative mother, embodies the damage caused by adult discomfort. When Wendla asks how babies are made, all she can offer is, “A woman must love her husband a lot.” Moments of humour and levity arrive through “My Junk,” where the cast become giddy over what seem like absurdly small curiosities: a girl’s stockings, a boy who’s good at maths. The girls soar through tight five-part harmonies, sweet and girlish in their fascination, while the boys are far more physical. Andrew Kassab’ s Hanschen is particularly memorable, hiding in the bathroom reading what he uses as erotica (it absolutely is not). “Touch Me” shifts the tone into something slower and more sensual, with Alex Holmes leading powerfully as Georg. Flanagan and Bell share a beautifully staged “The Word of Your Body,” choreographed with slow, tender touch and bathed in soft lighting. Notably, the pair never make eye contact; reinforcing that this intimacy exists in fantasy rather than reality. Bell continues to impress later in “Whispering,” a stunning number that lands with particular clarity if seated stage right. Ziggy Dutfield’ s Moritz is utterly captivating: awkward, endearing, and quietly funny at first. “And Then There Were None” is delivered with extraordinary vocal power and emotional precision (a Broadway performer reincarnated?) Please know that I wanted to cheer, but the scene ends too abruptly to allow for it! Crushed by academic failure, parental brutality, and sexual shame, Moritz begs for escape. Jolan Walker’s portrayal of Moritz’s father is genuinely distressing, screaming him into a fetal position. Dutfield and Chloe Smith's pairing in “Don’t Do Sadness / Blue Wind” offers a fleeting sense of nostalgia — of childhood, spring, and summer — before anger and despair overwhelm Moritz once more. The poetic lyricism allows both performers to explore yearning and loss with heartbreaking honesty. Laila Chequer De Souza’ s Martha brings the show firmly to real-o’clock  with “The Dark I Know Well.” As she reveals ongoing abuse by her father, the lighting turns red, the men close in, and her voice shifts from pain to rage, with a flicker of strength breaking through. Chloe Smith as Ilse joins her, offering solidarity, shared resilience, and a stunning vocal tone. Andrew Kassab and Nate Purdy are wonderful as Hanschen and Ernst; delicate, tender, and sincere in their portrayal of young queer love. Their scenes feel softly revolutionary within this rigid world. Lighting Designer Ben Vlasich uses intense green lighting patterns to support Wendla and Melchior’s encounter (where she asks him to strike her so she can “feel something” WHAT), causing a sense of unease, power imbalance, and dangerous curiosity. “I Believe” requires enormous bravery from the leads in that spotlight, and both meet the moment with courage and trust. Later, “Mirror-Blue Night” transforms the stage into a swirling, mirror-ball wash of light. Despite the heaviness of Act Two, “Totally Fucked” offers a brief, riotous release. Flanagan climbs into the audience, the ensemble swing from ladders, throw leaves, and gleefully flip us off. This musical often feels like Sex Education ... if it were set in 1891 Germany and stripped of any adult guidance whatsoever.... Speaking of, the adult world, portrayed by just two actors (Olivia French and Jolan Walker) , fails these children at every turn. Religious rigidity, institutional cruelty, and forced silence culminate in devastating consequences. Wendla’s realisation (spoiler) — “ I’m going to bear a child?! But I’m not married? ” — lands with chilling innocence. Emerson Bell is strong throughout, but this moment (and the ones following) could be pushed even further into theatrical drama/horror. “Left Behind” rips the heart out of the room, with Walker’s anguished cries echoing with very real levels of grief. “Those You’ve Known” draws us fully into sorrow, with Flanagan delivering one of the most emotionally raw moments of the night. Spring Awakening  at Gold Coast Little Theatre is bold, emotionally devastating, and deeply human. It asks difficult questions and refuses easy answers. Sit in the front row if you dare — you may leave with fog, spit, sweat, tears, and leaves on you — but you will leave changed. Highly recommended for mature audiences who are ready to listen.

Murder Incorporated Mayhem Theatre at PIP Theatre   I walked into Murder Incorporated  expecting something odd... I did not expect to leave questioning my sanity, fearing poodles, and thinking deeply about the emotional intimacy between a man and his office rug. And honestly? I had a great time!   This is a fast-paced, gleefully ridiculous farce that knows exactly  what it is and commits to it with absolutely no shame. From minute one, the cast are fully aware of the nonsense they are serving and invite the audience to be in on the joke, breaking the fourth wall early, often, and with a mischievous grin.   The premise, in theory, is simple (in practice… not so much). Murder Incorporated  is a business that hires assassins. Two new recruits (both of whom have drastically lied on their résumés) are paired together and sent out into the world to kill people. Or animals. Or… Tom Cruise-ship? From there, things escalate quickly and then continue escalating until the word “plot” becomes more of a vibe  than a structure. Stephanie Collins is an absolute comedic standout as Chad: a dorky, hyper-verbal nerd with a soul patch and a suit decorated as aeroplane-themed “plain clothes.” Chad never stops talking, mostly about deeply niche nerdy interests, and Collins commits to every ramble with sharp comedy, goofy accents, and ridiculous facial expressions.   Sean Wilson  plays Sasha, a supposed Russian assassin who is, in reality, a cat lady with twenty-four cats at home. Sean's dry delivery and strange flirtatious back-and-forth with Chad becomes one of the show’s unexpected joys. Sam Hoepner  brings unpredictability to Mr. Murder; a boss who is very genuinely, very earnestly in love with his office rug. Yes, a rug. And the rug is played by a stagehand ( Ridley Paulsen ), who repeatedly breaks the fourth wall and keeps popping out with a sheepish grin.   Then there is Dylan Clevens , who deserves a medal, a nap, and possibly a chiropractor. As the ultimate swing performer, Clevens plays everything  else — including (but not limited to) a little frail old lady, Tom Cruise-Ship (in aviators, speaking exclusively in movie titles), and the deeply unsettling Bubblegum Poodle (or something?). His physicality is relentless and hilarious. And I will probably have nightmares about that poodle mask now.   Written and directed by Amanda Harrison , the show leans hard into being in the round , with constant movement around and through the audience. The action is up close and personal. There is truly nowhere to hide from Murder Inc . You can feel how much of the show thrives on improvisation and ad-libbing, which gives it a loose, chaotic energy that suits the material perfectly. The cast’s commitment is what really sells it. Every performer throws themselves into the absurdity with full sincerity, never backing away from how ridiculous it all is.   Is the plot difficult to explain? Absolutely. Does it always make sense? Not even remotely. Did I enjoy myself? Completely.   This is theatre that does not take itself seriously and that’s its greatest strength. If you love ridiculous, chaotic, self-aware theatre, I highly recommend grabbing a very large drink (or something stronger), surrendering logic at the door, and going along for the ride.

Title: Fireface Presented By: The Velvet Collective & PiP Theatre Genre: Drama / Contemporary Theatre Synopsis: In a seemingly ordinary middle‑class household, teenage siblings Kurt and Olga share a closeness that goes well beyond what their parents understand. The parents, absorbed in their own routines and distractions, fail to grasp the depths of their children’s alienation. Meanwhile, Kurt becomes obsessed with fire‑making and destruction; Olga, restless and searching for identity and desire, reaches beyond the family orbit. When Paul enters the mix, the fragile equilibrium unravels quickly. Tensions build, desires collide, and the family home becomes a battle ground for rebellion, obsession and disintegration. This family is about to explode. Audition Date: Auditions accepted until February 5th, 2026 Audition Registration: Submit a recent headshot and CV or a letter detailing your experience and training to velvetcollectivetheatre@gmail.com Audition Pack: Fireface Audition Pack Performance Dates: June 24th - 27th, 2026 Performer Age: Characters span from teens (18–25) to adults (late 30s–late 50s). Creative Team: Director - Nic Davidson Production Website: The Velvet Collective - Fireface Other Information:The Velvet Collective is an independent multidisciplinary group focused on original and text-based performance work in South East Queensland. Available Roles / Character Breakdown: Kurt – Masculine presenting. Playing range 18–25. Lonely, unpredictable, quietly obsessed. Olga – Feminine presenting. Playing range 18–25. Slightly strange, self-assertive, provocative; grappling with identity. Mother – Feminine presenting. Playing range late 30s–late 50s. Passive, melancholic, caring but struggling to understand her children. Father – Masculine presenting. Playing range late 30s–late 50s. Oblivious, avoidant, emotionally detached. Paul – Masculine presenting. Playing range 20–30. Independent, partly kind, slightly possessive; Olga’s first boyfriend.

The Middle Room , written, composed and directed by Grace Spinks , began life as a single song inspired by family stories. From that seed has grown a deeply nostalgic, quietly devastating, and beautifully intimate piece of theatre that wears its heart on its sleeve. Grace describes these stories as a kind of mythology. The tales that surround us when we are young and shape us long before we understand their significance. That idea pulses through every moment of this work.   In just 60 minutes, The Middle Room  spans decades and somehow makes them feel fleeting. Set in Queensland in the early 1990s onward, the story follows three siblings, Elizabeth, Rae, and Jamie, and their mother Mary, as time quietly but relentlessly reshapes their lives. The Middle Room  is about the family home. What it means to grow up in it. What it costs to leave. What draws us back. Sometimes by love. Sometimes by obligation. Sometimes by grief.   PIP Theatre is one of my favourite spaces in Brisbane, and this show feels tailor-made for its intimacy. The audience was large, the room was full, and the energy was warm and attentive. The kind of crowd that leans in collectively for a show that is built on listening.   The set is simple to suit the small space. A piano and a bedroom, anchored by a small band led by guitarist Jeremy Stafford and bassist Charlie Green. Time passes through unfussy prop choices. Rotary phones give way to landlines, then to smartphones. Fashion subtly updates. Decades slip by without scene changes ever feeling heavy-handed.   This show drips with nostalgia. The songs are melodic, harmonic, and emotionally generous, full of love and light without ever tipping into saccharine territory. There is a strong singer-songwriter soul in Grace Spinks’ writing, and it serves the material beautifully. Dialogue feels like staged thoughts between real people: conversations we have in bedrooms, on late-night phone calls, or the ones we only ever rehearse in our heads.   One of the great strengths of The Middle Room  is how well these performers blend. In an unmiked space, the cast demonstrate exceptional musical discipline. Balancing dynamics, supporting the lead line, and knowing exactly when to step forward and when to melt back into harmony.   Standout musical moments include: Gone , a radiant group number about the joy and invincibility of being seventeen, buoyed by gorgeous ensemble harmonies. Sydney , sung by Elizabeth (Chloe Flanagan) , capturing the exhilaration of leaving a small town: trading a boyfriend in Townsville for a new city and new possibilities. Boyfriend , where Rae (Kate Hudson-James) and best friend Louise (AJ Betts)  rant in parallel about young love and relationships, thoughts spilling out faster than they can be filtered. Their chemistry here is joyful, relaxed, and deeply believable. Unchanged , sung by AJ Betts , featuring the lyric “I think I have a soul for childhood” , which lands like a quiet, devastating truth. They are emotionally precise and musically assured in this stunning solo. My Limits , a beautiful trio between AJ, Kate and Christina is restrained, honest, and painfully relatable. And my personal favourite! With or Without Me , a boppy, bittersweet number marking the growing difficulty of staying connected to your children once they have families of their own. His Room , sung by Mary (Christina Keen) , the most unforgettable piece of the show. She portrays a mother’s rage at the injustice of her child’s health situation with breathtaking clarity. She narrates her strained relationship with Jamie. The son who left home at fourteen…. The so-called problem child. Guilt, grief, anger, and love collide all at once in this confronting moment. The finale, Down the Highway , sees set pieces physically removed as characters leave the space. Mary's lyric “They think they need to hold me or I’ll fall apart”  had me tearing up, thinking about my own mother, grandmother, and uncle.   This cast is made up of six bright-eyed beauties who feel like real people rather than characters. Kate Hudson-James  portrays Rae, the middle child, with quiet authority. The one who manages everything, absorbs everyone else’s emotions, and never allows herself to crack. Chloe Flanagan’s  Elizabeth, the eldest sister, delivers some of the evening’s most affecting moments. From early optimism to the heartbreak of Muscle Memory , a song reflecting on the end of her marriage, Flanagan navigates Elizabeth’s arc with grace and emotional clarity. AJ Betts ’ Louise is deeply compelling. A character navigating queer identity, a strained relationship with their mother, and the refuge of chosen family. There is warmth, humour, and vulnerability here in equal measure.   Andy, Rae’s husband, is played by Max Baldock , and he absolutely earns his small moments. His lead number Open Mic / Get Round To It  is an absolute blast. A delightfully daggy dad doing an open mic night with his mates while his supportive wife films proudly from the crowd. Baldock also shines in Warmth That Remains , a tender duet with Kate Hudson-James . A sleepless night shared between partners while Chloe Flanagan plays piano in the other room. Grace Spinks captures the texture of a long-term, high-school-sweetheart relationship with remarkable sweetness here.   Christina Keen  is extraordinary as Mary: stubborn, grounded, and fiercely strong. Definitely a Virgo or Taurus. Her line “Going from a full house to an empty one is fucking miserable”  lands with brutal honesty. She embodies the Townsville mum clinging fiercely to her home while feeling the pressure to move closer to her children in the city; torn between memory, independence, and proximity.   One of the most striking choices in the show is Jamie, played by Saul Kavenagh . Jamie never speaks. He communicates solely through piano. We learn he has a degenerative neurological disorder that increasingly limits his independence, so his siblings and mother become his carers. It is a brave, sensitive presence that speaks volumes. And the fact that I know  Saul has a stunning singing voice only makes this silence more powerful.   Scenes are short, snappy, and thoughtfully constructed by Grace Spinks , allowing the audience to fill in the gaps while leaving room for future expansion. Partners, estranged parents, and children are mentioned rather than seen, and I loved that choice. It keeps the spotlight exactly where it should be, on this family and the space they share.   As this is a work-in-progress musical, a few gentle notes for future development: Clearer signposting early on in the script, including character names, relationships, years, and locations, or a brief synopsis in the program, would help orient first-time audiences (and because I'm slow on the uptake). On a larger stage, this piece would sing  with three distinct rooms and split-stage moments that lean into the idea of “the middle room”. A vintage upright piano would better suit the period than the electric keyboard. Casting Mary as slightly older could really rip out our hearts! Christina Keen’s portrayal is OUTSTANDING, but a matured actor could add an extra layer of lived history to deepen the emotional impact: the sense of time lived, children raised, and loss endured, particularly in a story so grounded in generational legacy and the quiet endurance of motherhood.   This is one of those rare shows where I felt like I really knew  this story and these characters. The music-filled house. The pressure to move to Brisbane. The stubborn parent holding onto the family home. The sibling who stays. The one who leaves. The one who needs care. It is almost freakish how closely this story mirrors my own family, right down to a musically gifted uncle receiving a scary diagnosis. Watching The Middle Room , I was not just an audience member or a reviewer. I was a participant, quietly grieving and remembering alongside these characters.   At Stage Buzz Brisbane, we champion new Australian stories because they hold up mirrors we did not know we needed. The Middle Room  proves that big, universal stories do not require spectacle to land, only honesty. In an intimate room, with a small, mighty cast and a handful of instruments, this show captures the quiet complexity of family, caregiving, memory, and home in a way that feels deeply familiar and fiercely local. Supporting work like this means so much to me, backing artists at the beginning of their journey. This is a beautiful first outing for a new Brisbane work, and I cannot wait to see where it goes next.

Little Shop of Horrors - Presented by Woodward Productions at QPAC Cremorne Theatre Director : Alister Smith Music Director: Heidi Loveland Music Supervision: David Young Choreography: Dan Venz Puppet Design: Brenton Van Vliet Designer: Penny Challen Lighting Design: Declan O'Neill Sound Design: Ben Murray Costumes/Props: Alex Heien Welcome to Skid Row, Los Angeles. A place where dreams go to wilt, hope is perpetually under-watered, and survival feels like a full-time job with no pay rise in sight. It’s a bleak, monochromatic corner of the world where people are told, both explicitly and implicitly, that they don’t matter. And it’s here, of all places, that a strange little plant promises something intoxicating: visibility, success, love.   Little Shop of Horrors  follows Seymour Krelborn, a timid florist’s assistant with a chronic case of bad luck and worse self-esteem. When he discovers a mysterious plant with a taste for blood, his fortunes begin to change. Fame, money and romance suddenly feel within reach — provided he keeps feeding his new green friend. As the plant grows, so too does Seymour’s moral dilemmas.   If you’ve never seen Little Shop of Horrors  before (hello, it’s me), this production is a perfect introduction. This beloved cult classic by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken (yes, those Disney legends) hails from a time when weird and wonderful movie musicals thrived. Think Rocky Horror  and Beetlejuice . Beneath the catchy-as-hell doo-wop score and absurd humour, Little Shop  is a sharp Faustian warning: don’t trade your soul for a shortcut. And whatever you do… don’t feed the plant!   This QPAC season sold out. Then it extended. Then it sold out again. Honestly? They could have filled the Playhouse. Still, the Cremorne Theatre felt electric, with excellent views from every seat. Produced by Alex Woodward , this season is directed by Alister Smith , with choreography by Dan Venz , musical direction by Heidi Loveland , music supervision by David Young , and striking, film-faithful puppet design by Brenton Van Vliet . Smith leans confidently into both the absurdity and the substance of the piece. His vision honours the camp while keeping a firm grip on the show’s darker undercurrents. The pressure to succeed. The hunger to be seen. The quiet terror of believing you’re disposable.   Dan Venz’s choreography propels the story through the doo-wop trio of Kimberley Hodgson, Anna Francesca Armenia and Nykita O’Keeffe. Their rhythmic bopping, attitude and crisp harmonies operate as a playful Greek chorus. The trio are absolute stars. Their harmonies are flawless, their sass is endless, and as ever-present observers of Skid Row, they never miss a beat. I do slightly worry about their necks after all that sassy head action, but it’s a sacrifice clearly made for the greater good. At the heart of the show are two tender, hopeful souls. Maxwell Simon as Seymour is endearingly awkward from the moment he shrinks into himself onstage. His jittery physicality, slightly whiny vocal quality and deeply relatable panic when the plant starts talking make him a compelling and sympathetic lead. His chemistry with Kirby Burgess as Audrey is a highlight. Styled to perfection with a stiff blonde wig and slinky costumes, she brings softness, sincerity and strength to a character that can so easily slip into caricature. Her Somewhere That’s Green  is intimate and heartbreaking. It’s quietly hopeful, painfully modest in its dreams, and sung directly to the audience like a secret confession. Bonus points for giving us an Audrey speaking voice that’s expressive without tipping into “annoying”. Call Back in the Morning  is staged with clever corded-phone chaos, and Suddenly Seymour soars with gospel-style backing vocals and heartfelt sincerity and goofiness. Bryan Probets’ Mr Mushnik benefits from the assurance of a theatre veteran, most evident in Mushnik and Son , where the number lands its laughs while still finding surprising emotional warmth. Stephen Hirst is a comic chameleon, particularly as the unhinged Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. His dentist is sadistic, wickedly funny, and unnervingly at ease locking eyes with the audience. He flips from charm to genuine threat in an instant. Beyond Orin, Hirst shows he's the jack of all trades (and costumes), with a standout turn as the generic rich guy, delivered with sharp satirical bite.   And then there’s Audrey II. A true marvel. Matthew McKenzie delivers a booming yet sass-filled voice performance, paired with Charles Ball’s expert puppeteering. The plant evolves through multiple forms with astonishing effect. From the wilting pot plant, to the Seymour-operated puppet, to the full monstrous reveal complete with roots that move like arms, the puppetry is mesmerising.   The band, Annie Silva on bass, David Whittingham on guitar, Luke Volker on keys, and Steve Fischer on percussion, bring Menken’s score to life with flair. Sound design by Ben Murray, paired with Heidi Loveland’s musical direction, delivers a rich, punchy sound that never lets the energy drop. Feed Me  in particular is a sensory feast, with lighting, sound and staging combining into something almost hallucinatory.   Designer Penny Challen’s painted set and props feel lifted straight from a sketchbook, beautifully echoing the illustrative style of Audrey II itself. The glowing florist signage and lighting strips framing the shop create a constant sense of containment, as though the characters are boxed in from the very start. The opening moments establish a striking visual language: a black-and-white world from floor to wings to flowers to costumes. It feels like a comic book come to life—flat, graphic and stylised—and sets the perfect foundation for a story that’s about to grow wildly out of control. Costumes and props by Alex Heien smartly track the show’s moral descent. Stark monochrome gives way to saturated greens as Audrey II’s influence spreads. The muses’ emerald sparkle is especially satisfying once colour finally floods the stage. Likewise, Declan O’Neill’s lighting is used sparingly at first, the palette deliberately drained of colour. Slowly, green begins to creep in. By Act Two, the visual transformation of the space is genuinely jaw-dropping and the show just keeps getting funnier. And darker. The reveal of the final Audrey II puppet drew audible gasps.   I overheard a teen at interval say, “It’s really murder-y,” which honestly feels like the most accurate review possible. This Little Shop of Horrors  is funny, stylish, musically tight and thoughtful. Beneath the camp lies a warning about capitalism, complicity and the cost of being seen in a world that profits from your silence. I walked in knowing only three songs and walked out completely converted. I would absolutely see it again if it weren’t already sold out!   A bold, brilliant musical by Woodward Productions that reminds us: know your worth, protect your integrity… and never, ever feed the plant. 🌱

Any Moment By Bradley McCaw | Presented at PIP Theatre Duration: 100 minutes (no interval) Experiencing a new Australian musical always fills me with a sense of curious excitement, like opening a Christmas present wrapped in a bizarre shape. There are no preconceived expectations, just the work, the performers, and the moment you’re sharing together. Any Moment , a new song-cycle musical by Bradley McCaw , embraces that uncertainty and turns it into its greatest strength, reminding us that life, much like theatre, only ever happens in real time. Set in Brisbane and unfolding over New Year’s Eve, Any Moment  tracks a single 24 hours as it tumbles toward midnight. Through 24 songs, including short reprises, the show weaves together snapshots of everyday lives: parents, workers, lovers, siblings, strangers, and people simply getting through their day. Inspired by John Lennon’s line, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans,”  the musical gently asks us to slow down and really look at the ordinary lives moving around us, those moments that might otherwise pass unnoticed. The show’s spine is the recurring group number “Twenty Four,”  which appears in various forms throughout the piece. Launched by Lulu Miskin , it becomes a ticking-clock motif that repeatedly grounds us in the passage of time. Each reprise feels slightly altered and always reflective, mirroring how our perspective shifts as the day unfolds. It is a simple and effective structural choice that gives cohesion to a sprawling song cycle and reinforces the show’s central idea: any moment is just a moment away. Musically, Any Moment  is piano-driven and impressively genre-fluid. The score moves between contemporary musical theatre, soul, ballad, rap, and spoken-word influences. McCaw’s  lyrics are observational, conversational, and beautifully specific, while musical director and pianist William Martineau  supports the storytelling perfectly. Subtle backing harmonies, sometimes onstage and sometimes drifting in from offstage, add texture without overwhelming the intimacy of the work. Many of the numbers are solos, and they are beautifully matched to each performer’s vocal colour and emotional range within this cohort from the Con (QAEMT). These performers are exceptionally skilled and fully immerse themselves in the stories. “Top Shelf”  is a witty, laugh-out-loud number about punching above your weight in a relationship, executed with poise and awareness by the hilarious Connor Chadwick . “Stuck in the Elevator,”  performed by Orlando Vella , spins eight hours of panic, epiphanies, and spoiled pants into a genuinely hilarious and unexpectedly reflective journey. “My Phone,”  performed by Sam Henderson  and Chloe Flanagan , struck a particularly modern nerve, charting our love–hate relationship with technology by recognising the addiction, attempting to stop, and ultimately shrugging and giving up. I felt seen. Painfully so... There are also many moments of vulnerability throughout the show. “Next Time,”  led by Lulu Miskin , explores sisterly dynamics with warmth and openness, her vocal delivery carrying genuine affection and ease. “Before the Story Passes By”  was a standout for me. Chloe Flanagan  delivers the number, about a journalist working through New Year’s Eve, with striking emotional intelligence, balancing ambition with frustration. I don’t say this lightly, I am seriously in love with Chloe’s voice. There were moments of musical shaping and melisma that made me turn just a little green with envy. That level of vocal craft is echoed across the cast. “Doin’ It For the Kids,”  performed by Lucy Ross  and Croft Phillips , injects humour and heart into the realities of parenthood and early morning football games. “Rover’s Song,”  performed by Niamh Cadoo-Dagley , is a joyful, chaotic stream-of-consciousness burst. It plays like a child’s ADHD thought spiral set to music and thrown into the room with complete commitment by Niamh and her "dog". “Church on Murphy Street,”  sung by William Kasper , is quietly devastating, presenting a lone figure at a wedding and capturing a particular kind of isolation. Will has a remarkable ability to sit in vulnerability without overplaying it, allowing the stillness to do the work, and it pays off beautifully here. His later number, “Rest of Our Life,”  delivered as a eulogy for a grandmother, is so intimate and tender that I genuinely felt like I was intruding on something deeply private. Lucy Ross  repeatedly commands attention, particularly in “White House Down the Road.”  Her performance was so vividly internal that I found myself closing my eyes to fully visualise what she was narrating. She stared out into nothingness, seeing the story unfold in front of her, while we could only listen. So I closed my eyes and let McCaw’s lyrics wash over me. And it was devastating. The duet “Door Duet" (Take My Hand),  performed by Connor Chadwick  and Sam Henderson , is also heartbreaking (whyyy?!), capturing the end of a relationship with restraint and emotional clarity. It is one of the show’s most affecting moments, understated and painfully real. Place is central to Any Moment . Brisbane isn’t a vague backdrop here. Aussie accents are proudly used, and “Coming In From the Suburbs”  injects groove and wit into the mundanity of suburban life. One of the show’s most compelling ideas is how our city quietly links these lives together. “Long Night”  lands as an anthem for anyone who has ever worked a miserable, unappreciated New Year’s Eve shift while the rest of the city celebrates. As midnight approaches, the emotional stakes heighten. “Light,”  an exquisitely delicate solo by Madeleine Ford , captures the ache of longing, the desire to be reunited with love in the afterlife rather than face another new year alone. Elsewhere, a child is born and a brother and sister meet the baby for the first time during the countdown. Life ending. Life beginning. All happening at once. By the time the ensemble gathers for the finale, “Turn the Page,”  the cumulative impact is undeniable. The full vocal sound of the cast swelled through the space and genuinely took my breath away. Yes, the show leans into big morals and earnest quotes, some unabashedly cheesy. But it earns that sincerity through craft, commitment, and heart. Visually, the production is intentionally minimal. There are no elaborate sets or lavish costumes, with Noah Milne’s  lighting doing much of the work to suggest time, place, and emotional weight. This restraint suits both the song-cycle format and the PIP Theatre space, keeping the focus squarely on the performers and the writing. Acoustically, the cast proves they barely need microphones at all, though balance occasionally wavers when voices overlap. Understanding the context behind Any Moment  only deepens appreciation for what’s onstage. Writing began in 2018, followed by a concept album in 2019 and years of workshops, revisions, and small performances. Writer Bradley McCaw  has spoken about the show evolving from offcuts of other works into something more focused: a piece centred on ordinary moments that don’t usually get musicalised in larger productions; such as fighting through a closed door, being stuck in an elevator, or the neighbour we live alongside but never truly know. Influenced by song-cycle writers like Jason Robert Brown, the work has taken many years, and many artists from around the country, to reach this pilot production. Any Moment  feels like the beginning of something rather than the final word, and that is its greatest promise. I left the theatre wanting the backstory to every song, every character, every fleeting moment, and reflecting on moments of my own and those unfolding around me. I have no doubt this won’t be the last time we see this thoughtful new Australian musical, because some stories are simply too alive to stay still.

Ballet Theatre Queensland – Alice in Wonderland Choreography, Direction & Story:  Clare Morehen Music, Orchestrations & Story:  Lucas D. Lynch Costume Design:  Rebekah Ellis Set Design:  Josh McIntosh Lighting Design:  Ben Hughes Sound Design:  Wil Hughes Orchestra:  Cadenza Chamber Players Photography:  Quince and Mulberry Studios Fresh off the success of Snow White  and Cinderella  in 2025 — and well-earned Stage Buzzie Awards — Ballet Theatre Queensland has built a reputation for taking familiar stories and refusing to treat them familiarly. With Alice in Wonderland , the company delivers an exhilarating reimagining that whisks Lewis Carroll’s iconic tale out of the rabbit hole and onto a bustling 1930s Hollywood film studio. Think sepia Art Deco and Depression-era grit colliding with neon signage, sequins, and big-band pizzazz. It was the kind of Golden Age glamour most of us only know through classic films and theme-park recreations… until now. From the moment audiences arrived on opening night, there was a very particular kind of buzz in the air: the “we’re about to be thoroughly spoiled”  variety. The whole venue felt celebratory before a single note was played. And when that first note did  arrive? Oh, it wasn’t a gentle invitation. It was a wink and a warning: time is ticking. Lucas D. Lynch’s  score leans into this tension, with ticking motifs and whimsical descending phrases creating a sense of urgency that never quite lets the audience relax; as if the entire world is behind schedule and only Alice is curious enough to question why. It’s an immediate signal that this production isn’t just pretty to look at; it’s purposeful, playful, and packed with ideas. Composer–choreographer collaborations of this depth are a core strength of BTQ. And it shows! Because every scene is purpose-built, musically and physically intertwined, rather than layered after the fact. With performers drawn from 24 different dance schools, this production doesn’t just showcase excellence in dance, it showcases community. The stamina required across this predominantly young cast — from rapid sequences, cramped backstage, stylistic shifts, and relentless pacing — cannot be overstated. Sepia Streets to Technicolour Dreams The ballet opens in a world of restraint and repetition: a muted, post-depression street scene. Alice enters in a brown schoolgirl outfit and boots, nimble and grounded, reading her copy of Alice in Wonderland. Around her, similarly dressed townsfolk drift beneath a dull Hollywood sign, some seeking work, others simply passing time, all caught in the monotony of routine. The action shifts into a classroom overseen by a domineering Headmistress, ruler in hand, complete with an actual blackboard (where did they find one of those nowadays?!). The children are drilled through repetitive, nonsensical exercises, their movement stripped of individuality and joy. As the teacher twirls around the room with oppressive precision, the choreography by Clare Morehen  beautifully captures control masquerading as order. When Alice follows the flustered White Rabbit down a steam grate and straight through the orchestra pit, the transformation on stage is exhilarating! The music slides into jazzy intrigue, the palette bursts from sepia into shimmering colour, and Wonderland is revealed not as the rabbit-hole fantasy we know, but as the luminous imagination of Golden Age Hollywood alive with possibility! This is an Alice  built not on whimsy alone, but on industry, imagination, and the cost of creativity. A Wonderland That Never Stops Moving Once inside the Hollywood film studio, the eye is constantly drawn everywhere at once, thanks to Josh McIntosh’s  set design. This Wonderland never stands still. Dancers move the set pieces themselves with impressive coordination, meaning transitions happen mid-motion and momentum is never lost. Doors appear, dressing rooms materialise, and entire worlds shift before you’ve even registered the last one. The use of double-tiered staging at the rear of the set allows for even more visual surprises, particularly during large ensemble numbers. While one group dazzles front and centre, another is already building the next picture behind them, creating a constant sense of activity that mirrors the frantic energy of a real working film studio. Top hats off to the creative team and dancers (especially given the Concert Hall’s lack of wings or a fly tower!) Around them, neon signs — including a clever glowing “Drink Me”  vanity and “Eat Me”  diner sign — illuminated props, glowing puppetry, and sequinned showgirl flamingos flood the stage. Glamour and Glitter The costuming is nothing short of extraordinary. Rebekah Ellis’  designs lean fully into 1930s Hollywood glamour while still allowing complete freedom of movement. Alice’s transformation into her Wonderland attire is a visual delight: pink satin, golden sequins, and a signature purple ribbon that keeps her instantly recognisable amid the chaos. The attention to detail given to every costume piece of this large ensemble cannot be understated (all the way down to the colourful pointe shoes!) Even the littlest performers — dressed in tiny pink hearts, and dapper suits, they were utterly charming and brought audible “awws” from the audience. The onstage costume changes of the Diva and Alice (clearly necessitated by the venue’s constraints) become part of the spectacle rather than a distraction. Genevieve Schofield’s  Alice absolutely glistens with imagination. From her first entrance, she captures that essential sense of curiosity and wonder, balancing childlike movement with highly assured technique. Schofield blends ballet, jazz, and theatrical storytelling with ease, adapting her physical acting as Alice grows in confidence and agency. Her solo moments shimmer with dreaming and possibility, and she remains the emotional anchor of the production throughout. Jordan Lennon’s  Leading Man ( the Blue Caterpillar ) is suave, commanding, and undeniably cool, complete with a fabulous suit-and-hat design — with actual smoke  coming from his jacket somehow (?!). His movement quality is smooth and confident as he toys with Alice through riddles and gorgeously fluid lifts. As the Mad Hatter-turned-film director, Jayden Grogan  delivers one of the production’s biggest highlights. His bluesy, jazz-laced showstopper crackles with energy and showmanship, unapologetically bold in its eccentricity. The percussion section was clearly having the time of its life, propelling the number forward and pulling the audience along for the ride. One of the evening’s biggest laughs comes courtesy of the diner kitchen scene, led by Matilda Kimlin’s  gloriously frazzled Cook and Scarlett Hutley’s  serenely oblivious Duchess. Paired with a frenetic strings score and staged with gleeful screwball chaos, the comedy hits the mark. Kimlin’s reactions — especially in the later slow-motion dressing-room meltdown — had me absolutely cackling . Tweedledum and Tweedledee — Chloe Hough  and Zara Strelen  — appear as mischievous wardrobe assistants in vibrant dresses, sunglasses, and beautifully styled wigs, stitching themselves directly into the story. As the perpetually flustered film producer, Matthew Erlandson’s  White Rabbit is everywhere at once and utterly brilliant at it. Darting across the stage in a vibrant orange tuxedo, he leaps like he’s got springs in his shoes and captures the stressed-out energy. Kohei Iwamoto  as the Diva’s devoted and long-suffering PA ( King of Hearts ) brings big attitude and big hair to the role. Lily Pietsch appeared as the energetic Cinematographer ( March Hare ), and Hadley Hooper’s adorably exhausted PA to the Director ( Dormouse) , whose commitment to perpetual fatigue was both so real and hilarious. And then there is the Diva ... Sophia Gougoulas  makes an entrance worthy of legend, arriving in a Daimler-style '30s shiny red vehicle. Draped in red fur, crowned with an enormous hat, and adorned with a dazzling heart-shaped necklace, she commands immediate attention… and fear. I literally said “YAS QUEEN”  as she stepped out. Her Queen of Hearts is deliciously dual: impossibly glamorous and soft-focus romantic when the cameras are rolling, yet ruthlessly volatile the moment they stop. Gougoulas navigates this split with relish. A romantic pas de deux in a slinky white gown and bouncy blonde wig opposite Jordan Lennon  reveals her at her most refined — all old-Hollywood grace and luminous poise. This “Action!” sequence is underscored by a score that feels like My Fair Lady  meets La La Land … but better. Then, just as quickly, the glamour unravels. Her off-camera dressing-room meltdown — staged in slow motion — is a masterclass in theatrical comedy. Music, Movement & Spectacle Lucas D. Lynch’s  ambitious score throws its arms wide and fully commits, drawing from jazz, blues, Broadway, and classical with nods to Gershwin, Porter, and golden-era film composers. Lynch makes full use of his expanded brass and winds orchestration, and at times it feels as though every instrument and sound effect at his disposal is in play at once. From smoky nightclub moods to glorious big-band blasts, the score never settles into predictability. The Cadenza Chamber Players rise admirably to the challenge of this demanding new music, navigating its rhythmic complexity with impressive stamina and cohesion. With a full 46-piece orchestra in the pit, the sound has a cinematic sweep rarely heard in dance productions of this scale. Filmic sound effects — including the whirr of a rolling film reel — heighten the Hollywood illusion and immersion, while Ben Hughes’  lighting design expertly guides the audience through the visual feast, drawing the eye precisely where it needs to be amid constant motion and layered staging. The choreography by Clare Morehen features extensive use of canons, particularly in the feathered fan sequences, creating ripple effects across the stage that are both visually thrilling and technically demanding. Full-throttle jazz explosions accompany kicklines, parasol and feather-fan movement, and exuberant Charleston sequences (while wearing pointe shoes I might add!) Every number somehow manages to top the last. A particular highlight is the Cheshire Cat — a large, glowing, fragmented puppet. Cleverly concealed puppeteers and low lighting create the illusion of floating, disembodied body parts and a mischievous grin, prompting audible gasps from the audience. It’s theatrical magic at its most delightful, and yet another reminder of the ingenuity on display throughout this production. The courtroom scene swings into a deeply jazzy blues groove, anchored by a sultry bassline and shimmering cymbals that ooze drama. From there, the production launches headlong into its finale, erupting into glorious, organised chaos. Hats off to Stage Manager Emma Healy , because the sheer coordination required in these final moments is breathtaking. With onstage costume changes, fast-moving set pieces, and a cast pouring in and out of the action, the energy never drops. I found myself holding my breath, acutely aware that just beyond the makeshift wings there must have been absolute mayhem. Alice returns to a world that appears unchanged... but she is not the same girl who left it. Inspired, emboldened, and full of possibility, she pulls out a notebook and begins to write. It’s a simple, quietly powerful ending that lands beautifully, reinforcing the production’s central message: that adventure can be found through books, through imagination, and through the act of storytelling itself. I couldn’t agree more.

Heathers: The Musical – Teen Edition Presented by BG Performing Arts Director : Sam Caruana Music Director: Kate Baxter Choreography : Bella Gordon Photography : By Brit Creative There's a certain excitement when you walk into a jam-packed (and pitch-black!) theatre for a youth production, knowing you're about to see a ton  of talent on stage. That buzz was undeniable at Heathers: The Musical – Teen Edition , with a crowd of about 300+ eager folks ready for a chaotic ride through the halls of Westerberg High.   For the uninitiated, Heathers  is a darkly comic coming-of-age musical, based on the cult classic film, set within the ruthless social hierarchy of an American high school in the 1980s. At the top sit the three immaculate, terrifyingly powerful Heathers, ruling the school with colour-coded confidence and casual cruelty. Enter Veronica Sawyer, an awkward outsider who suddenly finds herself absorbed into their elite clique, along with all the moral compromises that come with it. When she meets the mysterious and volatile J.D., teenage rebellion escalates into something far more dangerous, forcing Veronica to confront popularity, power, and the very real consequences of going along with the crowd. The Teen Edition keeps the show’s sharp wit and emotional core but puts a little bubble wrap around its more risqué bits for the younger performers. That said, it is still very much Heathers . The “cleaned-up” script leans on creative synonyms, sometimes hilariously so ("Oh-my-god!"), yet still includes references to suicide, violence, abuse, implied hanky-panky, and good old-fashioned teenage terrorism. Under the direction of Sam Caruana , with energetic choreography by Bella Gordon  and musical direction from Kate Baxter , this production embraced the dark humour and emotional weight of the material while showcasing just how much these performers could handle.   The stage was absolutely packed with talented performers tackling notoriously demanding material with impressive stamina. Full-cast numbers were a major highlight. Candy Store  was expanded into a large ensemble moment with the Heathers front and centre, while Big Fun  burst with high-energy choreography, including ambitious floor chorie that showed off both skill and endurance. Shine a Light  offered a softer tonal shift, with glowing hand lights adding a cool touch!   Raine Barr  led the show as Veronica Sawyer, delivering consistently strong vocals throughout. Her performances of Beautiful  and I Say No  were as smooth as butter, with riffs and tone that could make even the toughest critic swoon. While Fight For Me  sounded effortless and was elevated by the hilarious slow-motion fight sequence. Dramatically, Veronica was played with a more blasé, laid-back approach than is often seen, which meant some jokes did not quite land as strongly as they could have. From the back of the theatre, some dialogue and lyrics were difficult to catch. Clearer articulation would lift Raine's performance further, though vocally she completely carried the show with confidence. As J.D., William Piper delivered an intense and committed performance that only grew stronger as the show progressed. Freeze Your Brain  had a cool, quiet edge, though vocal fatigue became noticeable as the night went on, with Raine carrying much of Seventeen . By the time William reached Meant to Be Yours , his acting was so intense you could practically see steam coming out of his ears. The clenched jaw, barely contained anger, and laser-focused intensity were genuinely chilling. The tension he held in his body was unsettling, and perfectly suited the volatility of the role. Among the Heathers, Amy Davidson ’s queen bee Heather Chandler stole the show, owning the stage with her confidence and killer vocals. Zofia McGuinness was dynamite as Heather Duke, especially during I Will Never Shut Up Again , where she joined the whole cast with feisty choreography. Tilly Kelly  wowed everyone with a stunning rendition of Lifeboat , smoothly transitioning from a nervous vulnerability to a vocal powerhouse, showing off excellent dynamic contrast. Rose Hancock  gave a beautifully nuanced performance as Martha, with Kindergarten Boyfriend  emerging as one of the emotional highlights of the night. Her gentle tone, clear storytelling, controlled vibrato, and dynamic range completely held the room. A genuinely lovely performance of a heartbreaking song. Comic relief was in very good hands with Toby Bailey and Alex Townsley as Kurt and Ram. The casting felt spot-on, with bold physical comedy and fearless commitment. I was genuinely surprised to see You’re Welcome  included, but it landed with big energy. My Dead Gay Son  was a clear crowd favourite, with Hamish Treeke and Zander Hutson clearly having a blast leaning into the song’s absurdity. Isabella Bonaventura’s Ms Fleming brought a funky, humorous presence that added plenty of personality. Visually, the show was clear, colourful, and easy to follow, especially impressive given the holiday workshop time crunch. The two-level set helped create height and gave most of the cast a chance to be seen, with lockers and simple props like croquet mallets, a 7/11 counter, and a piñata adding to the storytelling without overcomplicating things. I also loved that the ensemble costumes avoided over-the-top 80s clichés. That said, sightlines became a little tricky during extended floor choreography, particularly without tiered seating. Sound was the biggest challenge of the night, with underscoring sometimes overpowering vocals and a few microphone hiccups along the way. Even so, the cast never dropped their energy, pushing right through to the final bow and earning loud, well-deserved applause.   Ultimately, Heathers: The Musical – Teen Edition  by BG Performing Arts was a vibrant, ambitious production overflowing with talent. These young performers tackled a difficult score and complex themes with courage, commitment, and connection. It is always exciting to watch emerging artists push themselves into new territory, and many of these performers are absolutely ones to watch.   (Also, a special shout-out to the ensemble character who became pregnant and ended the show cradling a baby. Iconic long-form storytelling. No notes.)

Beauty and the Beast: The Broadway Musical Brisbane Musical Theatre Director : Jesse Bradford Musical Director:  Mark Beilby Choreographer:  Ava Moschetti Lighting Design:  Spencer Mitchell Costume Design : Geena Lukin & Andrea Halter Photography : Artist Focused Brisbane Musical Theatre wrapped up their season of Beauty and the Beast with a packed final performance, after the earlier show I was supposed to attend was unexpectedly cancelled due to a power outage (thanks, Brisbane weather!). The closing night turnout was massive, with a crowd so warm and supportive, it could have melted even the Beast’s heart. Everyone was eager to finally catch this beloved Disney classic and cheer the cast across the finish line! From the moment the overture began, it was clear this production was reaching wholeheartedly for fairytale magic. The projected backdrops were a thing of beauty, clearly establishing the village, castle, woods, and tavern with storybook charm. The opening sequence featuring the Enchantress and the Prince was particularly effective, using costume, fog, narration, and lighting to create a strong sense of atmosphere that pulled the audience into the story right away. The opening number, “Belle,” seemed a bit overwhelmed by its own enthusiasm. With a very full stage, a few missed lines/early microphone hiccups, the scene seemed quite hectic, but undeniably bustling! The little village set pieces were a thoughtful inclusion, but with such a large ensemble, the cast seemed like they were trying to squeeze one more shopping trolley down an already crowded grocery store aisle. Musically, the show was in excellent hands under Musical Director Mark Beilby, whose orchestra delivered a polished and superb performance. The iconic sweeping score was handled beautifully, and the ensemble vocals in the large group numbers were consistently strong — something Brisbane Musical Theatre does particularly well. A standout of the evening was Reagan Warner  as Gaston, who entered to immediate cheers and clearly knew how to command the stage. His voice acting, physicality, and commitment to character were spot on. His bravado-filled solo “ Me ” was staged with playful flair, allowing his rich tone to shine. “ Gaston ” was a riot: full vocal power, coupled choreography, and clever use of tankards and props. While “ The Mob Song ” carried real urgency and menace (his eyebrows doing some very heavy lifting indeed!). And though the “ Gaston Reprise ” between Reagan and Alex Sturdee  had great energy and character interplay, the harmonies were not present. Nonetheless, Reagan looked like he was having an absolute blast playing the villain. Dan Pohlman’s was a roaring success as the Beast. He used gruff vocals, heavy movement, and growls to establish presence, with the elevated staircase staging cleverly enhancing his authority. Vocally, Dan was excellent; “ If I Can’t Love Her ” was beautifully sung and well-staged and lit. As the character softened, his awkward, dorky charm emerged, making the Beast’s transformation feel genuine by the end. The final fight with Gaston was intense and impressively committed — including Dan yeeting himself down the stairs like he was in an action movie! Leah Harford was lovely as Belle, showing off some impressive vocal power and a consistently strong belt. Her performance of “ Belle Reprise ” had that classic American princess style, while “A Change in Me ” highlighted her contemporary musical theatre strengths. Dramatically, Belle’s emotional journey felt a bit surface-level. Numbers such as “Home”  lacked authenticity and emotional shaping, which felt more like a blocking or directorial matter than a lack of effort from Harford herself. The enchanted household characters brought warmth and humour in abundance. Jose De Andrade leaned fully into theatrical melodrama of Cogsworth, while Michael Chazikantis  was a wonderful highlight as the funny, sincere, and flirty Lumière with an excellent French accent, comic timing and an easy rapport with his fellow cast members. Together, their performances balanced charm and heart beautifully, grounding the humour without tipping into caricature. Annie Sutherland’ s Babette matched them well with her confident accent and playful characterisation. Lauren Bull played the sassy wardrobe Madame with her beautiful operatic tone, while Melissa Beilby’s  Mrs Potts offered warmth and sincerity, particularly in “ Beauty and the Beast .” Chip — a shared role between Olivia Cowdrey and Ashton Nowers  — earned plenty of well-deserved “awws” from the audience. Alex Sturdee’s  Le Fou made hilariously unsettling expressions that, on reflection, felt absolutely spot-on for the goofy character. The Silly Girls ( Elloise O’Connell, Emma Johnstone, and Tobey Ogilvie ) lived up to their name — perky, intense, and delightfully unhinged — they injected bursts of energy whenever they appeared. As Maurice, Barry Haworth  was sweet and kooky, though his delivery sometimes lacked genuine urgency. “ No Matter What ” would have benefited from emotional shaping to give the moment more weight and some movement to give audience a better view of both characters. Choreography by Ava Moschetti  was ambitious for the size of the stage and the cast! “ Be Our Guest”  delivered excellent ensemble vocals and high energy, though spacing around the large staircase set piece was tight. The featured dancers impressed with fouettés and tap moments, even if the costumes lacked that essential visual dazzle for me. “ Human Again”  was vocally gorgeous, though movement was minimal again. The wolf stage combat was a howling success, with choreography that packed a punch. “ Beauty and the Beast ( Tale as Old as Tim e)” was sweet like a sugar-coated donut. Director Jesse Bradford  clearly leaned into family-friendly fun, and many scenes looked like an absolute joy to perform. The castle set was a standout, particularly the clever transformation of the West Wing into the library. The wilting rose was a lovely effect. While most leads entered and exited fully in character, the ensemble at times appeared to be searching for their marks. The makeshift wings were clearly a circus side stage — so maybe letting characters come in through the aisles or downstage entrances could have helped ease congestion. Shoutout to the crew for handling those frequent scene changes! It did cause the runtime to feel long, with some moments dragging as a result, but they clearly did their best. Some spoken dialogue also felt a bit bland, which is understandable in a story audiences have known for over 30 years, and likely far more exciting for the younger audience members who are very much the target demographic. Speaking of, when it comes to kids the lack of tiered seating can affect sightlines, but they worked well for me except during the final "death" scene. Costume design by Geena Lukin and Andrea Halter  shone most clearly in the furniture character costumes. The Beast, Gaston, Le Fou, Lumière, Cogsworth, Madame, Mrs Potts, and Chip were all thoughtfully designed and well suited for movement. Belle’s blue-and-white village dress and later pink and yellow ballgowns were less effective, with fit and styling choices that didn’t quite serve the character as well as they could have. Lighting design by Spencer Mitchell  was effective overall, contributing strongly to the show’s atmosphere. I did find the extended strobe effects during the transformation quite intense, and audience members seated close to the speakers (myself included) may have found the volume overwhelming at times. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed the commitment and energy of the wonderful cast, who maintained strong momentum through to the final bow, with the show met by generous applause from the audience. Beauty and the Beast  is a demanding musical — vocally, technically, and logistically — and Brisbane Musical Theatre approached it with clear affection. With several standout performances and moments of theatrical excitement, this production continues BMT’s commitment to delivering accessible, family-friendly musical theatre for Brisbane audiences.