Pride and Prejudice: The Rom-Com Kitchen Reno Edition (if Lizzie Bennet played violin and Mr Darcy wore hi-vis) What happens when you cross a former concert violinist who loves Mahler with a tradie who enjoys country music? A hilariously mismatched rom-com about kitchen renovations, emotional repression, and the unexpected ways we find connection.   Queensland Theatre’s Rhinestone Rex and Miss Monica  is a heartwarming comedy crafted by David Williamson, with Mark Kilmurry making a triumphant return to the director’s chair. The play stars Georgie Parker and Glenn Hazeldine, reprising their original roles from the production’s premiere. There’s a special kind of thrill in watching actors return to roles years later; you get the sense they know these characters like old friends, with the extra lived experience that only time can bring. For us younger theatregoers who missed the show the first time around, it’s a gift to witness this revival now.   Based on a true story, the premise is charmingly simple. Monica hires Gary (aka Rhinestone Rex) to redo her kitchen. She’s a no-nonsense, former orchestral musician with a bit of a prickly edge. He’s a former country music star (or is he?) who hosts a radio program when he's not busy renovating kitchens. Cue the culture clash! What follows is a hilarious clash of taste, class, and coping mechanisms. Her ears can’t stand his playlists; he doesn’t know a symphony from a sonata. But they both speak the language of grief, divorce, loneliness — and music. Their tension is immediate, but it’s not romantic. Not at first. There’s pride, prejudice, and a whole lot of verbal swordplay about interior design and music composition; but also slow, careful character development. These two are defensive, emotionally constipated, and past the age where life is supposed  to be exciting. But ever so slowly, they start to soften. They begin to share music. They listen. They try (awkwardly but adorably) to find common ground. They fight, drink, flirt, argue, and reveal their cracks.   Beneath all the one-liners and sparring is a tender, resonant story about identity, artistry, ageing, and the courage it takes to let someone in after life has let you down. There’s something deeply moving in watching two people who feel past their prime discover that maybe life still has a few melodies left for them. What I love most is that it doesn’t try too hard. It just tells a good story — a funny, relatable, often uncomfortably truthful story — and trusts its characters to do the heavy lifting. And they do.   Georgie Parker is pitch-perfect as Monica: sharp-tongued, emotionally armoured, and deeply committed to maintaining an aura of superiority… until wine is involved. Her drunken monologue about orchestra life - from inter-orchestra hookups to the addiction to applause and the sheer existential dread of having spent your youth tuning your soul to someone else’s baton, “we drink because we’re bored” honesty - is not just gut-bustingly funny but heartbreakingly real.   As a musician myself, Monica’s pain over losing her identity hit hard. There’s a brutal honesty in the way she describes no longer being able to watch classical concerts — not because she doesn’t love them, but because she does . Watching others do what once defined you, when you physically can’t anymore, is too painful and Parker plays it with aching authenticity. I’d feel the same if I couldn’t play or sing again; probably drowning my sorrow in shiraz each night too.   Glenn Hazeldine’s Gary is the perfect counterbalance: affable, oddly charming, and clearly winging his way through life one half-truth anecdote at a time. He’s the kind of guy who says too much, jokes too quickly, and finds it easier to open up to a radio audience than the woman sitting across the room. He’s a man who doesn’t quite know how to compliment without offending — whose big talk radio persona Rhinestone Rex doesn’t quite translate into emotional fluency in real life. His banter with Monica is snappy and well-timed, yet it’s those little moments of sincerity, awkwardness, and vulnerability that really shine. Beneath his bravado is someone desperate to connect and he manages to crack open Monica's emotional drywall in the process.   The set by Veronique Benett feels like someone’s actual living room. I kept thinking it looked suspiciously like mine, except tidier and with less cat fur. The lighting is warm, the soundtrack moves deftly between classical and country, and the whole thing flows with the kind of ease that only comes from incredibly thoughtful direction and years of chemistry. Daryl Wallis’ subtle score, peppered with both twangy country tunes and sweeping classical moments, perfectly underscores their emotional tug-of-war. The sound design is full of bangers (both literal and musical — there is a lot of kitchen hammering), and the whole production hums along beautifully.   What makes Rhinestone Rex and Miss Monica  so rewarding is its simplicity. Two characters. One space. No tricks, no gimmicks — just great writing, two seasoned performers, and a whole lot of emotional honesty. It’s not trying to be profound, and in that lack of pretence, it finds something profound anyway. Two people who believe they’re past their prime, not even looking for another chance at love, passion, or purpose, but they start to rediscover that possibility again. These characters aren’t idealised or aspirational — they’re messy, defensive, stuck. They’re you, me, your neighbour, your ex. And in their stumbling attempts to connect, we see the kind of flawed humanity that’s both frustrating and comforting.   So whether you’re a Vivaldi devotee or a Dolly Parton diehard, there’s something deeply universal in this sweet, sharp, surprisingly soulful rom-com about rediscovering joy, even in unlikely places. About finding someone who, while seemingly your complete opposite, might just be singing in the same key after all. This is a show for the romantics, cynics, music snobs, late-bloomers, and lonely hearts. For anyone who’s ever felt stuck, or lost, or just really annoyed by someone they probably have a crush on... Don’t miss it before it closes on 21 June 2025! Tickets available here Photography by Jade Ellis

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

Presented by Redcliffe Musical Theatre Directed by Gary Farmer-Trickett Performed at Theatre 102 Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest  is one of those plays that simply never goes out of style—and lucky for us, it’s also one of those plays that South-East Queensland keeps returning to. I’ve now had the pleasure of reviewing this show three times, and honestly? It was still a joy. Wilde’s sharp wit, timeless absurdity, and comically tangled web of mistaken identity were as charming as ever and this production once again delivered an evening of polite society chaos with style. For those new to the story (or in need of a refresher), The Importance of Being Earnest  is a Victorian comedy of manners that revolves around two friends, Jack and Algernon, who each lead double lives under the false identity of “Ernest” to escape the tiresome expectations of the upper class. When both men’s deceptions are revealed in front of the women they love—each of whom insists on marrying someone named Ernest—things spiral into gloriously silly mayhem across three wonderfully over-the-top acts. Under the direction of Gary Farmer-Trickett, the production kept a faithful hand on the style and tone of Wilde’s world. The set, designed and lit by Jonathan Johns evolved across acts from elegant parlour to picturesque garden and finally a study complete with love seat, bookcase, and—most importantly—snack props for Algernon to devour. One delightful detail was a giant portrait of Algernon featured in Act 1, clearly meant to highlight the character’s over-the-top vanity and set the tone for the silliness ahead. The true strength of this production lay in the ensemble’s chemistry—especially the dynamic between the two male leads, Jack and Algernon, both posing as the elusive Ernest. Jake Hollingsworth as Jack was a perfect casting choice—not only is he already British, but he delivered the role with comedic precision. His facial expressions were an absolute gift, and his confident stage presence really anchored the story. Lachlan Boyes as Algernon brought the necessary charisma and cheeky mischief to the role, with excellent use of physical comedy and perfectly timed asides that were impossible not to watch. The playful “brotherly” antics between the two characters, even when things went awry in the plot, were a major highlight. Ashlee Hermann played Gwendolen with fantastic snobbery and a deliciously passive-aggressive edge that made her exchanges feel like a tennis match of decorum and drama. She was poised, expressive, and delightfully over-the-top in all the right moments. Zoe Hitchcock was utterly charming as Cecily, giving very strong 'Reese Witherspoon' energy. Her sweetness, sass, and sense of timing all worked together to create a layered and entertaining performance. One of the best naturalistic performances came from Sandra Harman as Miss Prism. Her portrayal felt lived-in and believable, and her scenes with Terry Skinner’s good-natured Dr Chasuble added a warm, gentle humour to the show. Played by producer Madeleine Johns, the iconic matriarch Lady Bracknell was physically commanding and dramatic, but lacked some of the bite the role demands. Ericson Ilustre, who also handled costume design, doubled as Lane and Merriman, bringing quiet comedy and presence to the stage while ensuring everyone looked stunning. Speaking of costumes—though not entirely consistent stylistically—they were thoughtfully chosen, flattering, and absolutely helped set the tone. Algernon’s purple sparkly velvet tails were a glorious standout, and Gwendolen’s evening gown was truly stunning. If I had one quiet wish, it was that the women could project just a little more. The theatre competed with everything from leaf blowers outside to persistent coughers in the crowd, and a few lines were unfortunately lost in the mix—especially when delivered facing toward the wings instead of the audience. The one element that felt slightly off-kilter was the pacing. Some line stumbles led to slower pacing, with fellow actors having to recover or redirect the energy. Still, nothing could dull the brilliance of Act 3’s sheer absurdity. The chaos built to a glorious peak, with Jake Hollingsworth in particular shining as an exasperated Jack navigating revelations, confessions, and last-minute name swaps. There was always something fun happening between him and Algernon—whether stealing snacks, exchanging death stares, or trying to bluff their way out of their mounting lies. All in all, this production of The Importance of Being Earnest  was a loving, lively take on a classic comedy. Even after three reviews of this play, I still found new details to enjoy every time. Photography Alan Burchill

Title: Opera Queensland La bohème Children’s Chorus Presented By: Opera Queensland in association with West Australian Opera, QPAC & Brisbane Festival Genre: Opera – Children’s Chorus for Puccini’s La bohème Synopsis: Opera Queensland is excited to cast the Children’s Chorus for the upcoming production of Puccini’s La bohème, a timeless opera set in a magical 1920s Parisian winter, featuring an inventive rotating greenhouse stage designed by Charles Davis. This is a fantastic chance for young singers to perform alongside internationally acclaimed soloists, the Opera Queensland Chorus, and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. Step 1: Expression of Interest & Online Application Required Age: 10 to 15 years old Submit your application by 5pm Friday 13 June 2025 via this form: Online Application Form Applicants will be notified if they are invited to audition by Friday 20 June 2025. Upload the following as part of your application: A 1-minute video of your child singing a classical or musical theatre piece (clear audio, no amplified microphones required) A current CV detailing any musical experience or training A recent headshot (professional photo not necessary) Approximate height and other measurements for costume fittings Step 2: Auditions Auditions will be held in person at the Opera Queensland Studio: Date: Tuesday 24 June 2025 Time: 5:30pm – 7:30pm Location: 140 Grey Street, South Brisbane QLD 4101 Auditions include group warm-ups, ensemble singing, a short solo, and measurements for costume fitting. Children must be accompanied by an adult at the audition. The session is designed to be fun, low-pressure, and encouraging for young performers. The audition panel will include Opera Queensland staff and members of the La bohème creative team. Successful auditionees will be notified of results by Friday 27 June 2025. Eligibility: Aged 10 to 15 years old (must still be 15 on 13 Sept 2025) Australian citizen or permanent resident living in Queensland Live within 45 minutes travel of South Brisbane Able to sing in treble range Height preferably less than 150cm (costume consideration) Performance Dates: 5 performances from 4 to 13 September 2025 Performance Location: QPAC Lyric Theatre, South Brisbane Rehearsal Dates: Evening rehearsals: Four sessions (3 hours each) between 7 July and 9 August 2025 Additional production and dress rehearsals mid to late August 2025 All rehearsals outside school hours Additional Info: Audition Pack: Download PDF Online Application Form: Apply Now Production Website: OQ Website Contact Alicia Cush, Managing Producer - Email: artist@oq.com.au All rehearsals and performances are paid engagements under Live Performance Australia Award terms. Participants will be provided with full costume for performances. Italian language coaching and pronunciation training provided. Children must be accompanied at all auditions by a parent or guardian. All participants must adhere to Queensland Government Child Employment Guide regulations. Opera Queensland prioritises child safety with professional chaperones present at all times.

Company:  Ballet Preljocaj Venue:  QPAC Lyric Theatre, South Brisbane Choreography:  Angelin Preljocaj Music:  Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (with added electronic music by 79D) Live Music:  Queensland Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Johannes Fritzsch Costume Design:  Igor Chapurin Lighting Design:  Éric Soyer Video Design:  Boris Labbé Swan Lake, but make it climate collapse. Officially titled Le Lac des cygnes , Ballet Preljocaj’s interpretation of Swan Lake  is very much a contemporary ballet. This is not a traditional tutu and pointe shoe retelling of the classic story. Instead, choreographer Angelin Preljocaj reimagines the ballet as a haunting contemporary tragedy that pulses with social relevance, emotional depth, and striking visual artistry. Gone are the fairy tale forests. In their place stand skyscrapers, corporate greed, and sinister CEOs. At its core, the familiar bones of the story remain: love, loss, and resistance. Siegfried (Antoine Dubois) , son of a ruthless property developer (Romain Renaud) , falls for Odette (Théa Martin), here an eco-warrior cursed into swan form. Their star-crossed romance unfolds against a world suffocating under capitalism, with Rothbart (Redi Shtylla) reimagined as a slick modern industrialist. Despite this radical new setting, the narrative spine of Swan Lake  remains recognisable beneath the contemporary lens. Musically, this Swan Lake  was breathtaking. Tchaikovsky’s timeless score, performed by the Queensland Symphony Orchestra under Johannes Fritzsch , was threaded with pulsing, ominous electronic music by 79D. The juxtapositions could be jarring at times, but the unease was clearly deliberate. The stage was stark, with only a skeletal architectural model of suburbia, leaving the heavy lifting to Boris Labbé’s astonishing video projections. Forests dissolved under rising towers, rocky mountains melted into grids of concrete, and the scrim rippled with restless motion. Éric Soyer’s lighting carved the dancers into stark whites and shadows, giving us water, shapes, and ominous spotlights. Igor Chapurin’s costumes leaned heavily into black and white symbolism, with a memorable burst of colour during the Act I party scene, where sequinned dancers glittered briefly before tumbling back into shadow. The barefoot corps de ballet, in short white ruffles, were mesmerising. Delicate yet powerful, they channelled swan-like fluidity without pointe shoes. Preljocaj’s choreography bore little resemblance to Petipa and Ivanov’s well known romanticism. Instead, it leaned into postmodern shapes: low centres of gravity, angular limbs, and arms slicing the air like blades. The athletic movement demanded enormous stamina from the dancers. I particularly loved the sweeping unison sequences that pulsed with urgency: The swan huddle moving like a single organism. A glimmering rave party bursting suddenly into colour. The cheeky “little cygnets” variation, complete with sassy hip thrusts that drew giggles of delight from the audience. Repetition and unison built hypnotic tableaux throughout the work. A canon line of swans often rippled across the stage. The office cubicle routine saw dancers miming corporate monotony in perfect sync. A walking maze of performers moved in every direction like beautifully confused Sims. The dancers gave nothing less than full commitment, sustaining fierce energy through the relentless two hour marathon. At times the dancers seemed to embody the entire swan through their bodies, arching their necks and extending their arms like living wings. Théa Martin’s Odette and Odile was a revelation; her Odette was fragile and lyrical, while her Odile was dominating and sharp. Antoine Dubois matched her intensity, and together their pas de deux were electrifying. Sometimes tender, sometimes brutal, and often both at once. Twisting limbs and intertwined torsos created something both terrifying and tender. It was impossible to look away. I was lucky enough to snag a rush ticket (at just a fifth of the original cost!), which meant I could dive headfirst into this no interval two-hour endurance test on a whim. Three acts unfolded back to back with no mercy. I caught myself clenching every muscle, too nervous to cough or even shuffle in my seat for fear of breaking the spell. Sadly, not everyone shared that discipline. A pre show reminder about phone etiquette would not have gone astray. I counted no fewer than six phones ringing. In a work this immersive, those interruptions jarred. Did every narrative moment land for me? Not entirely. But as a sensory experience of motion, image, sound, and soul, this Swan Lake  was thrilling, unpredictable, and never dull. For those who feel the original ballet has grown a little dusty, this version breathed fresh (if somewhat polluted) air into the story. The final image of Odette lying lifeless while smog rose above her like a cancerous promise of progress was devastating. And even if this interpretation is not to your taste, the production itself is undeniably an impressive feat for everyone involved. The dancers, the orchestra, and even the audience. Diehard traditionalists may still find it worth experiencing for the sheer unpredictability, and for the chance to watch swans take on capitalism with style.

Octopolis – Observatory Theatre Presented at:  PIP Theatre Written by:  Marek Horn Directed by:  Bronwyn Nayler In Octopolis , the complexities of human communication and the curiosities of animal consciousness swam in a sea of intellect, grief, and philosophical exploration. Brought to life by the daring team at Observatory Theatre, this production made its Australian independent debut with two actors and one deeply enigmatic octopus. The story follows George, a disheveled, chaotic professor grieving her dearly departed husband while cohabitating with Frances, the octopus in question. Enter Harry, an anthropologist with grand theories and a curiosity that just won't quit. The dynamic between George and Harry quickly becomes electric, marked by academic sparring, emotional deflection, and the (not actually present) presence of Frances, who camouflages herself in her tank, silently observing them. The set was deliberately stark: a large carpeted area scattered with endless papers, no props beyond what was mimed, and a glowing blue rectangle of light representing Frances’ tank. Projections helped guide the story, displaying both visuals and text, including bursts of scientific terminology. The lighting was elegant and moody, with gentle fog adding to the ambiance. A subtle soundscape brought in oceanic textures, and a bit of Bowie (because apparently Bowie is having a theatrical renaissance lately?). Caroline Sparrow as George was an absolute force. From drunk ramblings to intellectual tirades to moments of devastating vulnerability, she commanded the space with emotional depth and fearless authenticity. She was messy, brilliant, guarded, insecure yet confident—a whirlwind of contradiction. There was something fascinating in the way she raged, not with aggression, but with articulate intellectual fury, only to crumble into one of the production’s most moving monologues about loss, connection, and the unknowable. Dudley Powell played Harry with precision and subtlety, serving as a counterbalance to George's disorder. He was blunt and grounded, but cracked open as the play progressed, particularly in a poignant monologue of his own towards the end. Dudley and Caroline's scenes together were like a dance—sometimes literal, often verbal, and always layered. And then there was Frances. Not a puppet or a person, but an unseen presence, projected in both imagery and metaphor. The actors' interactions with her—how they talked to her, responded to her, observed her—fed into the underlying tension of the play. The octopus became a mirror, a confidante, an emotional support creature, and ultimately a symbol of everything that was mysterious, beautiful, and simply beyond human comprehension. Movement and intimacy coach Sherri Smith’s work shone in the moments when physicality became the primary language. Scenes mimicking underwater fluidity were mesmerising and dreamlike. Lighting and video design by Teddy Waddingham transformed simple visuals into rich symbolism, and Lachlan Driscoll’s sound design anchored the world in place. Through Bronwyn Nayler's direction, every element worked together to create a world that was simultaneously sparse and dense. This wasn’t a light or easy piece—it was a brain-twister that demanded your full attention, especially when it dove into the deep end with philosophy, psychology, or science. The timeline jumped, but the actors provided narration. The debates about science, God, consciousness, and love didn’t shy away from complexity, but for those who enjoy cerebral theatre that also packs an emotional punch, this was a rare gem. While the runtime may have stretched a touch long (mainly from the extended movement sequences), it was a minor quibble in an otherwise thought-provoking, boldly staged piece. By the end, the audience was left pondering not only the mysteries of octopuses but the even deeper, messier complexities of being human. Octopolis  was a beautifully intellectual and emotionally stirring production. With articulate performances, sleek design, and a script that challenged both cast and audience, this show offered a deep dive into connection, sentience, and the quiet power of observation. Cast: George – Caroline Sparrow Harry – Dudley Powell Frances the Octopus – Use your imagination Cast: George – Caroline Sparrow Harry – Dudley Powell Frances the Octopus – Non Existent Creative Team: Playwright: Marek Horn Director: Bronwyn Nayler Dramaturg: Lachlan Driscoll Movement & Intimacy Coach: Sherri Smith Choreographer: Sherri Smith Lighting & Video Designer: Teddy Waddingham Sound Designer: Lachlan Driscoll Stage Manager: Libby Harrison Lighting Operators: Hannah Page and Imogen Meehan Photography by Geoff Lawrence - Creative Futures Photography

Living the Love Story: Baritone Jake Lyle on Voxalis Opera’s A Woman’s Love and Life Brisbane’s vibrant arts scene is buzzing with anticipation as Voxalis Opera returns to the 4MBS Festival of Classics with one of its most beloved productions— A Woman’s Love and Life , a masterfully reimagined rendition of Schumann’s Frauenliebe und Leben . Taking place Saturday 7th June, 2025 at St Andrew’s Uniting Church, the performance blends German art song with poignant theatrical storytelling, and brought to life by an exceptional cast of local artists. A cornerstone of Voxalis Opera’s repertoire, A Woman’s Love and Life  breathes new emotion and nuance into Schumann’s classic song cycle in a beautifully staged 60-minute performance. The audience is invited to journey through the arc of a woman’s life in love—from the electric thrill of meeting her soulmate, to the joy of marriage and motherhood, and finally, the aching grief of loss. Mezzo-soprano Cassandra Seidemann leads the cast as Schumann’s protagonist, reflecting on her life and enduring love. Among the cast is baritone Jake Lyle, whose powerful voice and magnetic stage presence have made him a rising star across Queensland. I caught up with Jake ahead of the show to chat about his artistic journey, the unique approach behind this performance, and why Brisbane’s opera scene deserves the spotlight.   “I never saw myself doing anything other than performing and telling stories.” For Jake, the path to opera began in a more unexpected way: Shrek the Musical in his hometown of Gladstone. “That was the gateway,” he laughs. “I’d always loved performing—my brother Lachie and I used to stage plays in our loungeroom. But it was seeing Alfie Boe in the 25th anniversary concert of Les Misérables  that lit the spark.” He remembers, “I asked Mum if we could go to Sanity in Gladstone to pick up musical CDs— Phantom of the Opera , Les Mis , and the original West Side Story film soundtrack were the first ones I got.” Jake’s bold voice was always part of him, though not always appreciated in school. “My primary school teachers didn’t always love my loud voice,” he jokes. “But once I started proper singing lessons, I found myself naturally drawn to a more ‘legit’ sound, and that path eventually led me to the Queensland Conservatorium. I am so grateful for the incredible mentors I’ve had along the way. These people know who they are and I could not be where I am now, chasing this career, without the constant support they continue to give me.”   A New Lens on Love Though Jake does not sing any of the original Frauenliebe und Leben  songs, his role is essential to this reimagined version. “Instead, I perform other pieces which have been added to enrich the storytelling. Camilo Lopez, our director, has reimagined the cycle by weaving in these extra songs to add dimension and emotional context. So for me, it’s about stepping into the memories and emotional world of the main character—adding colour, tension, and tenderness to the moments she’s reflecting on.” Jake hopes audiences walk away emotionally stirred: “The show touches on so many parts of love—joy, intimacy, heartbreak—and I think there’s something in it that almost everyone can relate to. Even though it’s based on one woman’s story, this version opens it up in a way that feels really universal. If someone leaves the performance thinking about someone they’ve loved—or even just feeling a little more connected to themselves—that’s the best outcome we could ask for.”   Voxalis Opera: Elevating Local Voices With its innovative productions and artist-forward ethos, Voxalis Opera has quickly become a cornerstone of Brisbane’s classical scene—and a deeply meaningful company for Jake: “What I love about Voxalis is their mission to support emerging artists and reimagine how opera is presented. You’re not just learning the music—you’re collaborating, storytelling, and creating something meaningful with your peers and mentors.” Performed with English surtitles and accompanied by the brilliant pianist Sarka Budinska, the recital is anchored by mezzo-soprano Cassandra Seidemann in the central role. Alongside her, Rebecca Goobanko and Jake bring to life the figures who populate the woman’s most significant memories. “Working with people like Cassandra and Rebecca—who are both incredibly talented and professional—has been such a privilege." He adds, “That kind of mentorship and collaboration is rare, and really valuable. Being part of something this innovative has been creatively fulfilling—it’s pushed all of us to think differently and work as a true ensemble.” From Recital to Theatre Voxalis first premiered A Woman’s Love and Life in 2023 to critical acclaim, praised for its elegant staging and emotional weight. But make no mistake—this is not your standard lieder recital. “This semi-staged approach makes the whole thing feel way more theatrical, which changes everything about how we perform the songs,” Jake explains. He continues, “It’s not just about singing the notes perfectly—it’s about really living the emotions and drama behind them. Honestly, it’s a pleasure to perform like this because it lets me connect with the music and the story on a much deeper level—and I think that makes it more real for the audience too.”   A Love Letter to Brisbane’s Arts Scene Jake is passionate not only about the work but also about the city that has shaped his blossoming career: “What really stands out about Brisbane’s arts scene is the passion that drives it. No matter the scale or style, the artists, performers, and creatives here genuinely care about their work and the community they’re part of. That passion creates a strong sense of connection and support—people truly lift each other up and work together to help the arts thrive.” He adds, “There’s also incredible diversity across the scene. From opera and classical music to theatre, live music, and experimental projects, there’s always something happening. It’s a vibrant, evolving community where you can discover fresh and exciting work if you take the time to explore.” ( Wink wink... Go check out Stage Buzz Brisbane  for the hundreds of productions happening this year! ) Jake credits that same spirit as one of the driving forces behind Voxalis’ innovative success. “It’s not just about preserving tradition, but making opera feel relevant and accessible to people here in Brisbane. Being part of that effort feels important because it helps open doors for local talent and invites more people to experience this incredible art form.” So, What’s Next? While Jake is keeping busy with multiple upcoming projects , he has a few dream roles in mind: “Papageno, Figaro, Marcello and Billy Budd,” he shares. “Way down the line, dream roles would be Don Giovanni and Rigoletto—those are huge roles that I’d love to grow into with time and experience.” He’s also got musical theatre dreams: “I’ve always wanted to take on Phantom, Javert, and Don Quixote. I’ve had the chance to play Raoul already… and I’d love to revisit that again.” But for now, all eyes are on A Woman’s Love and Life —a delicate, heartfelt meditation on love, memory, and the loss. (Side note: I saw Jake perform in Spamalot  with Paterson Productions and he was absolutely phenomenal. It’s honestly still one of my favourite community musicals I’ve seen in Brisbane. I went twice!)   Don’t Miss Out: A Woman’s Love and Life Presented by Voxalis Opera Part of the 2025 4MBS Festival of Classics 🗓 Saturday 7 June, 7:30pm 📍 St Andrew’s Uniting Church, 299 Ann St, Brisbane City 🎟 Tickets from $35–$60 | Book Now

Title: MILF The Musical Presented By: Madison Avenue Productions (Formerly Coastal Theatre Collective) Genre: Contemporary Musical Comedy Synopsis: MILF The Musical follows Kate, a fabulous fashion influencer and proud MILF, as she navigates the chaotic terrain of motherhood, marriage, and modern fame. With help (and chaos) from her ride-or-die besties and her recklessly unfiltered sister, Kate battles burnout, public scrutiny, and inner doubt to redefine her identity. Full of bold humour, heartwarming moments, and high-energy musical numbers, this cheeky new Australian premiere celebrates fierce femininity, friendship, and the messy beauty of growing up (again) after 40. Audition Dates: Day 1 (General Auditions): Saturday, June 21st – Individual singing auditions by appointment Day 2 (Callbacks): Sunday, June 22nd – Scene work and additional vocals Audition Location and Address: Specific venue confirmed via email upon audition registration Audition Self-Tape Due (if applicable): Interstate applicants welcome — please indicate in the registration form if you are submitting a self-tape. Audition Registration: Complete the online registration form at: https://www.madisonavenueproductions.org/auditions Submissions close 6:00pm, Tuesday June 18. Successful auditionees will be contacted by June 19th. Audition Requirements: Headshot (JPEG or PDF) and Performance CV Prepare two contrasting contemporary musical theatre songs (1 up-tempo and 1 ballad). Please bring a backing track. You may be asked to read or sing from the show at callbacks. Performance Dates: Thursday 12th – Saturday 14th December, 2025 Performance Location: The Playhouse, The Events Centre, Sunshine Coast Rehearsal Dates: Begin: Three weeks before tech week Schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday – 6:00pm to 10:00pm Sundays – 10:00am to 4:00pm Tech Week: December 9–11 Warnings: Themes include adult humour, drag performance, sexuality, and mature content Required Age: 18+ Other information: This is a paid production – $1000 per performer, inclusive of rehearsals, performances, and promotional commitments. Madison Avenue Productions proudly welcomes auditionees of all gender identities, body types, cultural backgrounds, and experience levels. Interstate performers are welcome to apply but must cover their own costs and be QLD-based during the production period. Available Roles: Kate (Female, early–mid 40s): A vivacious fashion influencer and the show’s central MILF. Bold, confident, but juggling the weight of motherhood and social pressures. Strong vocals and acting, dance a plus. Cleo (Female, mid–late 30s): Kate’s younger sister. Glamorous, chaotic, recently dumped. Strong singer and dancer. Jason (Male, early–mid 40s): Kate’s husband, an advertising exec. Loving but increasingly disconnected. Strong acting and vocal skills. Frankie (Mid-40s, any gender): A drag queen, nightclub owner, and Kate’s best friend. Hilarious, fabulous, and heart-filled. Big voice, big personality. Stardust (Late 20s–early 30s, any gender): Frankie’s drag offsider. Young, ambitious, a little naïve. Strong singing/dancing ability. Female Ensemble/Banjo (20s–30s, female): Versatile performer and strong mover. Plays Banjo, Cleo’s love interest – a charming and spirited waitress. Male Ensemble (Mid-20s, male): Strong dancer and singer, plays multiple ensemble roles throughout the show.

Title: The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical Presented By: Hanson Creative Genre: Musical Theatre / Dramatic Comedy / Fantasy Adventure Synopsis: Percy Jackson is about to be kicked out of boarding school… again. But this time, it’s not just school trouble—mythological monsters are suddenly very real, and he’s just discovered he’s the son of Poseidon. When Zeus’s master lightning bolt is stolen, Percy finds himself accused and thrust into a wild, monster-filled quest across America to retrieve it and stop a war among the gods. With the help of his new friends Annabeth and Grover, Percy must unravel a divine mystery, face down ancient foes, come to terms with his past, and discover the hero that lies within. Based on the best-selling book series by Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief is a high-energy musical filled with humour, heart, and heroic quests—perfect for performers and audiences of all ages. Audition Dates: Friday 11 July 2025 (individual auditions) Saturday 12 July 2025 (individual auditions + compulsory group dance call at 4:00pm) Audition Times: Individual times between 11:00am – 4:00pm Dance Call: 4:00pm – 5:00pm Saturday 12 July Audition Location and Address: Backbone, 28 Tallowwood St, Seven Hills QLD Audition Deadline: Applications close at 11:59PM on Wednesday 9 July 2025 Audition Requirements: Prepare two contrasting songs (up to 1 minute each) One must showcase comedic ability At least one should be in a contemporary musical theatre style Bring a backing track on a Bluetooth or AUX-compatible device Perform a cold read (script provided on the day) Bring a printed CV and headshot Prepare and present one monologue from the provided material (does not need to match your chosen character) Attend the mandatory dance call (group choreography video available here) Wear dance-appropriate attire and shoes (sneakers or jazz shoes) Audition Registration: Register for an audition slot here Audition Pack: View/download the audition pack here Audition Materials: View here Performance Dates: Thursday 23 October 2025 – 7:00pm Friday 24 October 2025 – 1:00pm & 7:00pm Saturday 25 October 2025 – 1:00pm & 7:00pm Sunday 26 October 2025 – 1:00pm Performance Location: BackDock Arts, 103 Brunswick Street, Fortitude Valley QLD 4006 Rehearsal Dates: Table Read: Monday 14 July 2025 Rehearsals: Mondays & Thursdays, 4:00pm – 9:00pm, from 14 July – 20 October Sitzprobe: 29 September Bump-In: 21 October Tech Rehearsal: 22 October Dress Rehearsal: 23 October (day) Warnings: Some themes of violence, mythical monsters, and mild language Action/movement-heavy roles Required Age: Open to 16+ Creative Team: Director: Emma Hanson Musical Director: Hayley Walsh Choreographer: Anna Ryan Production Website: emmaelizabethhanson.wordpress.com Other Information: Pay Rate: All cast will receive a $300 flat fee for the production This production is committed to inclusive casting. Performers of all cultural backgrounds, abilities, body types, gender identities, and lived experiences are strongly encouraged to audition. Some portions of the audition may be filmed for internal casting use and potential marketing. Participation indicates consent. Available Roles: Percy Jackson – Male presenting (F3–Ab4) Hot-headed, brave, sarcastic, and loyal. A demigod son of Poseidon thrown into a hero’s journey. Annabeth – Female presenting (Ab3–F#5) Smart, strong-willed, and confident. Daughter of Athena with sharp intellect and warrior instincts. Grover / Mr. D – Male presenting (E3–G4) A gentle satyr and Percy’s goofy best friend, also plays Dionysus, the wine-loving, sarcastic camp director. Luke / Gabe / Ares / Mozart – Male presenting (Baritone–Tenor) Versatile role covering the charming yet conflicted Luke (son of Hermes), Percy’s horrible stepdad Gabe, Ares the Rock Star God of War, and other bold characters. Sally Jackson / Ensemble Track – Female presenting (A3–E5) Percy’s caring mum and various mythological women including The Oracle and Echidna. Chiron / Poseidon / Hades / Kronos / Cobain / Cyclops – Male presenting (Baritone–Tenor) A mentor figure, mythic gods, and a range of bold and quirky male-presenting roles. Clarisse / Medusa / Mrs. Dodds / Katie / Thalia / Ensemble – Female presenting (Mezzo-Soprano–Soprano) Fierce and comedic, these roles require strong characterisation, physicality, and versatility.

Title: A Doll’s House Presented By: Mercury Theatre Wynnum Genre: Drama / Classic Theatre Synopsis: Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House is a groundbreaking 19th-century play that still resonates today. Set in a Norwegian town, it follows Nora Helmer as she begins to question her seemingly perfect life, challenging traditional gender roles, marriage expectations, and personal identity. This new production will present the classic text through a fresh, modern lens under the direction of Sophie Parker. Audition Date: Saturday 28 June 2025 Audition Time: 1:30pm – 3:30pm Audition Location and Address: Wynnum Library, 145 Florence Street, Wynnum QLD Audition Requirements: Pre-registration is essential by 27 June – no walk-ins will be accepted. Cold readings from the script; prepared monologues welcome but not required. Bring a completed audition registration form and colour headshot (10x15cm minimum), or upload in advance via the online form. Audition Registration:Audition Registration Form Audition Pack: Download Audition Pack Available Roles: Please note: Stage ages are flexible and casting is based on suitability and enthusiasm. Nora (F, 20–30): The emotional centre of the play; intelligent, resourceful, and quietly rebellious. Torvald Helmer (M, 30s–40s): Nora’s husband; confident, image-focused, and condescending. Kristine Linde (F, 30s–40s): Nora’s practical childhood friend; grounded and mature. Nils Krogstad (M, 30s–50s): Initially seen as a villain; later revealed as deeply human and remorseful. Dr Rank (M, open to F, 40s): Witty, terminally ill friend of the Helmers, in love with Nora. Helen (F, 50s+): Loyal maid/nurse; represents working-class women and unseen emotional labour. Performance Dates: 15–16 November 2025 22–23 November 2025 29–30 November 2025 Performance Location: Manly-Lota RSL, 184 Melville Terrace, Manly QLD Rehearsal Dates: Table Reads: 21 July, 28 July, 4 August (Mondays) Rehearsals: Every Monday & Thursday, 7:00pm – 9:00pm, from 4 August 2025 Crew: Interested participants may also volunteer for roles in: Props, Costume & Makeup Set Design, Lighting & Sound Stage Management & Crew Front of House Photography, Videography & Marketing Production Website: www.mercurytheatrewynnum.com.au/auditions Other information: This is a volunteer-based amateur production. Cast must become financial members of the company ($10 per year) if accepted. You’ll be notified of casting outcomes by email or phone on or before 5 July 2025.

The Campaign  by Campion Decent Presented by Underground Theatre Company Synopsis In 1988, more than one hundred people were arrested at Salamanca Market in Hobart. This happened when the Tasmanian Gay Law Reform Group resisted a prohibition on their stall, which advocating the decriminalisation of homosexuality. This led to a lengthy, difficult, and courageous struggle to repeal a law regarded the harshest of its kind in the Western world—and the last of its kind in Australia. Drawing from firsthand testimonies, parliamentary records, and media from the time, Campion Decent’s The Campaign  traces Tasmania’s path from criminalisation and discrimination to eventual legal reform and acceptance. Told through a verbatim lens, it is a moving and fiercely important piece of theatre. Before the show even began, the message was clear. “I’m Coming Out” blared from the speakers as actors mingled onstage, while the back wall—covered in butcher’s paper—was gradually splashed with slogans and time stamps in rainbow paint. Performed by five actors in uniform white shirts and black pants, The Campaign  unfolded as a powerful ensemble piece, weaving together dozens of real voices, experiences, and memories from those at the heart of the Tasmanian gay law reform movement. Narrated collectively, it told a story of protest, perseverance, pain, and power. Cullyn Beckton gave a grounded and honest portrayal as Rodney Croome, who was raised in a conservative household and driven to become one of the state’s most passionate advocates for change. Cullyn captured both Rodney’s vulnerability and growing conviction as an activist. Their courtroom and media scenes were especially impactful, resonating with genuine emotion. Lachlan Williamson, Abigail Thomas, Holly Lightbody, and India Johnson demonstrated exceptional versatility and authenticity in their various roles—from passionate campaigners to prejudiced politicians, grieving friends to hesitant family members. They managed an immense amount of dialogue, rapid character shifts, and intense emotional whiplash with clarity and unity. Pre-recorded video interviews were used sparingly but to powerful effect, grounding the narrative in real-life experience. Reflections from time in their jail cells were especially affecting. Throughout the performance, there were frequent moments of audience discomfort—not because of the production itself, but from the painfully accurate reenactments of anti-gay speeches, misinformation, and hate speech that once aired freely in public forums. Watching the actors embody these voices of cruelty and ignorance prompted audible groans and scoffs. It was a crucial reminder that this wasn’t ancient history in our country. It was the 1980s and '90s, a period still within living memory for many. The play shone a spotlight on the glacial pace and injustice of the journey toward equality in Tasmania—where the punishment for gay sex was as severe as 21 years in prison At the time, that was longer than the sentence for rape or armed robbery. It's unthinkable now. And yet, it was reality then. While the production leaned heavily into dialogue over visual storytelling—and some character shifts weren’t always clear without costume or prop indicators—the cast managed to maintain narrative clarity. Dakota Ehrlich’s minimalist set and Helen Butler’s stark lighting design kept the focus firmly on the words and the people speaking them. Despite the heavy subject matter, there were moments of levity—some unexpected, some musical, some strangely delightful, which offered necessary breaths between the weightier scenes. There was real beauty in the portrayals of queer community, chosen family, and the quiet, enduring reality that many face: “we never stop coming out." This production was an education. For younger audience members it offered a vital insight into a chapter of Australian queer history that too few are taught. For older folk, it may have served as a reckoning or a reminder of how far we’ve come, and the sacrifices involved. And it was timely. With trans rights still under attack and the embers of hate being reignited in public discourse, The Campaign  served as a sobering reminder that progress is never guaranteed. That equality is hard-won. And that human rights are fragile, always requiring protection, vigilance, and collective action. A standing ovation felt almost inadequate for a story of this magnitude. The Campaign  provoked, educated, and empowered viewers. It honoured those who fought for justice and reminded us all that the fight is far from over. Because, as this powerful piece made heartbreakingly clear, progress only happens when people actively campaign for it. Cast: Cullyn Beckton Lachlan Williamson Abigail Thomas Holly Lightbody India Johnson Creative Team: Director:  Lachlan Boyes Assistant Director:  Jai Bofinger Stage Manager:  Gigi McLaren Assistant Stage Manager:  Janae Smith Production Designer:  Dakota Ehrlich Lighting Designer:  Helen Butler Sound & Video Designer:  Ned Lane Production Assistant:  Sasha Brewin-Brown Warnings:  Contains strong coarse language, hate speech, adult themes including homophobia, HIV/AIDS crisis, mental health and suicide. Themes of trauma and discrimination.

Pramkicker  by Sadie Hasler Presented by MO Theatre and Door 3 Queensland Theatre Hilarious, heartbreaking, hot pink, high-octane feminism. With teeth. Synopsis What happens when we want more—or less—than what the world expects? Well, as Jude and Susie learn, everyone has an opinion. Especially the ones who shouldn’t. Jude has always known she doesn’t want kids. Susie isn’t so sure. One day, surrounded by a sea of ‘yummy mummies’ in a café, Jude snaps—she kicks a pram down a flight of stairs (don’t worry, no baby involved), gets arrested, and ends up in court-ordered anger management. Susie tags along for moral support... and maybe to confess a secret of her own. Sadie Hasler’s Pramkicker  is a fierce, funny, and unfiltered exploration of womanhood, sisterhood, and the societal expectations placed on anyone with a uterus. Directed by Amy Ingram and Nerida Matthaei, this punchy, provocative, expletive-laced rally cry is for every woman who’s ever felt judged for not ticking the boxes of marriage and motherhood. It tears into the exhausting, generational conversation around what makes a woman “worthy”, especially outside the traditional pathways. First Impressions When you walk into the Diane Cilento Studio (Door 3), you don’t just take your seat. You enter a world. A school hall bulletin board, a line-up of abandoned prams, and a table offering cordial and biccies scream “primary school nostalgia.” Unless, of course, you’re a parent, in which case it might just feel like a Tuesday. The immersive setup pulls the audience in immediately. We’re guided into a makeshift classroom by the voiceover of a “group leader,” while onstage, Jude—snarky and aloof—and Susie—frantic and friendly—are already there, checking name tags and dodging the “wet paint” sign as if we’re all members of the same anger management group. And for the next 75 minutes, we are. Performances Sarah Ann McLeod is formidable as Jude, fiercely clinging to her autonomy and unafraid to kick a metaphorical (or literal) pram to protect it. She’s dry, biting, and brimming with repressed rage that’s all too familiar to many child-free women. Her monologues on motherhood, worth, and invisible womanhood are searing and delivered with razor-sharp honesty. This isn’t just theatre for me. It’s catharsis. Sarah Ogden, as Susie, is the perfect chaotic foil: bubbly, a little too accommodating, and carrying a truth she’s afraid to share. Her performance is a shape-shifting masterclass. Not only is she deeply believable as Susie, she also morphs into a gallery of side characters: a bougie British woman ranting about her trash husband, the snob café mum, a sleazy bogan bloke, a Ken-doll ex-boyfriend named Jason, an LA valley girl called Marcy... Every voice, posture, and facial expression lands. Honestly… what can’t  this Sarah do? Direction & Design The direction is bold and brilliantly paced. Pramkicker  never drags. Every beat is intentional. The sound design by Brady Watkins and lighting by Christine Felmingham elevate the piece, especially the vivid green spotlight monologues and the sardonic voiceovers that veer between absurd and oddly profound (“How do I feel about my period...? I LOVE IT!”). Ada Lukin’s set design nails that lo-fi school assembly vibe: mismatched, duct-taped chairs, a “Stay Cool” baby poster à la Banksy, and layers of DIY that ground the show in something instantly recognisable. Emotional Impact Beneath all the f-bombs and sarcasm lies something raw and real: this is ultimately a story about sisters. About how the same upbringing can yield wildly different paths. About the debt we owe each other—and ourselves—when it comes to honesty and choice. We uncover the 8-year age gap between Jude and Susie and the long-avoided truths. They bicker, they bond, they laugh and break down, sitting side by side in lawn chairs with full Kath & Kim  energy, drink in hand. There’s a plot twist I won’t spoil—but when it lands, it hits hard. And just when you think the show has made its point, it turns the mirror back on you and asks: What societal bullshit have you been putting up with? As a proud, single, child-free woman surrounded by engagements, weddings, pregnancies, and playdates, this show struck a deeply personal chord. It gave voice to the quiet rage of feeling like you “don’t count” without a wedding ring or a baby bump. That rage of being pitied, judged, or dismissed? That’s not fiction. And this show dared to scream back: I am enough. And then there’s Susie, aching with the pressure of choosing the “right” path. Her monologue about motherhood, and the quote that stuck with me—“When does all the knowing start?”—was gutting. Final Thoughts And yet, through the anger and the ache, the show never loses its humour. We wheezed with laughter. There were groans of recognition from women all around me. The Brisbane references landed like little in-jokes for the whole audience. The slow-mo flashbacks (especially Jude’s pram-kick brawl) were downright side-splitting. And by the end, you might want to hug your sister, yell into a pillow, or go full Jude and kick a pram. It’s the kind of show that lodges itself in your bones. That shakes you up. That lets you grieve and laugh at once. I highly recommend seeing it. Especially if you're angry. Or confused. Or just tired of being told what your life should look like. CREATIVE TEAM Directed by:  Amy Ingram & Nerida Matthaei Choreography by:  Nerida Matthaei Set & Costumes by:  Ada Lukin Lighting Design:  Christine Felmingham Sound Design:  Brady Watkins Stage Management:  Lucy Kelland & Thea Raveneau SHOW DETAILS Duration:  75 minutes (no interval) Recommended Age:  15+ Warnings:  Contains haze, flashing lights, strong coarse language, and adult themes including sexual assault, pregnancy, abortion, and drug/alcohol use. Tickets : https://queenslandtheatre.com.au/plays/pramkicker Photography by Morgan Roberts