Category: Reviews

• First Nations Literature Recommendations

  March 17, 2025 11:43 am Comments Off on First Nations Literature Recommendations

  Books written by First Nations writers provide for an extremely rewarding reading experience. The authors on this list are not only incredibly talented writers, but they also have critical stories to tell. In this list, I have compiled my ten favourite books written by First Nations writers. 
  Is That You, Ruthie? by Ruth Hegarty (Memoir, 1999 UQP) 
  In this memoir, Hegarty chronicles her experience residing in Queensland’s Cherbourg Aboriginal Mission in the 1930s. When she is four years old, Ruthie is forcibly separated from her mother under the Aboriginals Protection Act and moved into Cherbourg’s girls’ dormitory. She is sent out to work as a domestic servant as a teenager. Hegarty reveals throughout the memoir the strong lifelong bonds the dormitory girls develop with one another, forming an alternate family to compensate for the ones they had lost. Hegarty sources the title of her memoir from the all too familiar question that would ring throughout the dormitory as the matron attempted to identify the culprit of unfolding mischief. This moving story is illuminative, educative, and inspiring. 
  Me, Antman & Fleabag by Gayle Kennedy (Novel, 2007 UQP)
  This novel is a compilation of vignettes, following an unnamed narrator, her partner Antman, and their dog Fleabag as they travel around Australia visiting their family and friends. Kennedy uses black humour to explore Indigenous life in contemporary rural Australia. The novel’s cast of characters is exceptionally vivid and iconic — a standout was Cousin Moodle, whose love of funerals made for a ridiculously entertaining chapter. Despite its comedy, some stories have a more serious and heart-breaking tone, such as ‘The Golden Wedding Anniversary’ and ‘Grandfather’s Medals’. The former examines the interrelation of racism and misogyny, while the latter dissects the treatment of Aboriginal servicemen post World War II. Me, Antman & Fleabag is a must-read novel.
  Blood by Tony Birch (Novel, 2011 UQP) 
  Tony Birch’s Blood is an Australian classic for a reason — it is one of those books that is impossible to put down. This novel is set in the 1960s and follows two siblings, Jesse and Rachel. The story is told from Jesse’s perspective. It chronicles his struggle to care for his younger sister as they experience neglect, poverty, family violence, and abandonment by their mother. This is a story of adversity and the strong bond between siblings. Birch’s clever pacing, engaging plot and well-developed characters keep you turning the page until the very end. 
  Heat and Light by Ellen van Neerven (Short stories, 2014 UQP) 
  Heat and Light has been constantly at the back of my mind since I first read it two years ago. This is a powerful collection of marvellously written short stories. The first part, ‘Heat’, is set in the past, and it compiles short stories written from the perspectives of members of the Kresinger family. The second part, ‘Water’, is a novella set in a future Australia, exploring both queer identity and colonialism. The last part, ‘Light’, is a series of short stories set in the present, spanning urban and rural settings. The themes of family, belonging, and freedom are interwoven throughout the entire collection. By travelling across time and space, Van Neerven traverses the diverse experiences of Indigenous Australians. 
  Finding Eliza: Power and Colonial Storytelling by Larissa Behrendt (Non-fiction, 2016 UQP)
  In Finding Eliza, Larissa Behrendt explores the true story of Eliza Fraser, who purported to be captured by the Butchulla people in 1836 after she was shipwrecked off the Queensland coast. Behrendt does not merely re-tell this story. Instead, she uses it to dissect the ways in which the First Nations people of Australia — and those of other countries — are perceived and portrayed by colonisers. Her intertextual analysis touches on Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, Katharine Susannah Prichard’s Coonardoo, and Rousseau’s “noble savage” in order to examine colonial values and their contribution to Australia’s racial divide. This is an incredibly well-researched and argued piece of non-fiction. 
  The Yield by Tara June Winch (Novel, 2019 Penguin Random House) 
  The Yield is a beautifully written novel by Wiradjuri author Tara June Winch. The story consists of three strands. The first is the accumulation of a dictionary written by Albert ‘Poppy’ Gondiwindi in the last days of his life in the hope that he can pass on his people’s language and prevent it from dying alongside him. The second strand follows the protagonist, August Gondiwindi, as she returns to Prosperous House, located near the Murrumby River, for her grandfather’s funeral, only to discover that her family’s land is to be repossessed by a mining company. The third narrative takes the form of letters written by Reverend Ferdinand Greenleaf, a missionary amongst the people of Massacre Plains in 1915, to the British Society of Ethnography. Winch’s novel is a testament to storytelling, an evocative tale about cultural dispossession, the power of language, and personal identity. 
  Dropbear by Evelyn Araluen (Anthology, 2021 UQP) 
  Dropbear is an award-winning collection of poetry, prose, and memoir. At times satirical but always lyrical, Araluen examines settler-coloniality and personal history. She bends genres and forms to dissect Australia’s colonial fantasy and the myth-making that forms our contemporary culture. Despite her interrogation of the past and Australia’s complicated present, Araluen has hope for the future as she writes: “Look at this earth we cauterised / the healing we took with flame / I will show them a place / they will never have to leave.”
  Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray by Anita Heiss (Novel, 2021 Simon & Schuster) 
  Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray is a historical fiction novel written by Anita Heiss. Heiss takes her inspiration from the story of two Wiradyuri men, Yarri and Jacky Jacky, who saved more than sixty people from the Murrumbidgee River during the Gundagai flood of 1852. Her novel follows Yarri’s daughter, Wagadhaany, whose life undergoes upheaval when her colonial masters demand she move away with them following the devastation caused by the flood. The novel explores the protagonist’s acute grief as she is separated from her miyagan (family). Through her characters, Heiss explores the cruelty of those who claim to act with good intentions and for the betterment of First Nations people. The novel is also a celebration of the Wiradjuri language, as stated by Heiss: “Using Wiradjuri language on the cover of my novel (and throughout the text) makes a strong statement…regarding the reclamation and maintenance of the traditional language of my family.”
  Tell Me Again by Amy Thunig (Memoir, 2022 UQP)
  Gomeroi academic Amy Thunig’s memoir, Tell Me Again, traces memories of a childhood defined by love and suffering. The author writes about growing up in a household troubled by incarceration and addiction, while experiences of homelessness, sexual assault and racism all accumulate to provide a sombre representation of the resounding effects of colonialism. The memoir transcends colonial tragedy by juxtaposing the moments of intense trauma with memories of happiness. Thunig’s life is a story of forgiveness, love, perseverance, and exceptionalism; their memoir is honest, insightful, and immensely moving. 
  She is the Earth by Ali Cobby Eckermann (Poetry, 2023 Magabala Books) 
  She is the Earth is a new verse novel by Yankunytjatjara poet Ali Cobby Eckermann. Unlike previous verse novels written by Eckermann, this collection is devoid of a conventional plot and characters. The poetry soars through the elements, commenting on water, air, sky, earth, and light. It is meditative — reflections on breath and breathing allow for a quiet and thoughtful exploration of grief and healing. However, the journey that Eckermann maps is nonlinear; healing is presented as an ongoing process, with trauma resurfacing throughout the story. Her imagery is beautiful and majestic, capturing the beauty of nature, fauna, and Country. 

  Aala Cheema

• So you didn’t see ‘As You Like It’? What Ever Major Loser!

  January 4, 2025 11:29 am Comments Off on So you didn’t see ‘As You Like It’? What Ever Major Loser!

  ShakeSoc concluded its 2024 season with what seemed like a celebration of some of their veterans, putting on As You Like It in the Ralph Wilson Theatre. Reframed in the style of the 2000s Disney classic Camp Rock, India Kazakoff and Kathryn Keane brought a new life to this Shakespearean comedy.
  As You Like It follows heroine Rosalind as she flees her uncle’s court alongside her cousin Celia, whilst her lover Orlando similarly flees his brother’s court. Both end up at Camp Ardern, where Rosalind, dressed as a shepherd, pretends to cure Orlando’s love for Rosalind by having him woo her. Many characters are introduced along the way, and many marriages ensue à la Shakespearean comedies. While it’s not the easiest Shakespeare plot to follow, we think he may have broken the record for the number of weddings in a singular scene.
  Yet another new venue in these treacherous times (a closed Kambri Theatre), the Ralph Wilson Theatre was a decent choice. While audience capacity was on the smaller scale, the stage size was adequate with room for characters to enter and exit through multiple wings. Maybe a niche critique from us — not that ShakeSoc had any control over this — was the uncomfortable plastic chairs that left our butts numb. Overall, this venue served the purpose of this production well, with professional sound and lighting rigs.
  Directors Kazakoff and Keane are no strangers to a ShakeSoc production, which was evident in their well thought-out show. Directorial changes, including name alterations to parodies of Disney actors, a baptism using a spray bottle and a saxophone serenade, brought original comedy to a classic script. However, where some modifications to the script occurred for the Camp Rock theme, certain moments required additional changes to align with the direction, most notably a wrestling scene that became a guitar battle. Overall, more unique alterations were made to this show than previous ANU recontextualizations, allowing for a production full of nostalgia and laughter.
  A standout performance from an overall strong cast came from first-year Angus Murray as Jacques. Whilst Shakespeare’s ‘All the World’s A Stage’ monologue can be a daunting undertaking, Murray rose to the occasion. Whilst Jacques is the melancholic foil of this show, this 2000s emo-esque interpretation of the role brought joy and humour.
  This show witnessed the return of Toby Griffiths, playing Duke Frederick. Arguably the best technical actor, with not only the widest range and clearest diction, Griffiths should be once again applauded for another strong performance.
  The backbone of the production was Georgia Nolan’s Orlando, acting as a consistent presence with occasional comedic moments. Further praise should be given to Chloe Tuazon’s Rosalind, who not only had strong romantic chemistry with Nolan, but potentially an even stronger familial bond with Ellie Fintoff’s comical Celia. Overall this veteran-heavy ensemble allowed for a strong cast that were able to play with differing interpretations of this script.
  Lighting Director Jessica Luff’s use of a more professional lighting rig than Kambri’s was evident throughout, with contrasting colours, spotlights and fades ensuring an interesting overall lighting design. Whilst more minimal in the first Act, the best of this design was seen in the later half, notably the interrogation scene. Complementing Luff’s lighting was Sound Designer Tom Lyle’s sound design, featuring both music and background effects. At times, strange sound levels had us questioning whether music was intended for that particular moment. A highlight was the use of The Proclaimers ‘I’m on My Way’ during the journey scene, adding a comedic element to walking across a stage.
  Set for this production consisted of a few large pieces, including a tent, a blowup boat, a paddle pool, and some greenery — though these were not used in the production. While these pieces set the scene, there was potential for more interesting and integrated designs. Overall, the props were within the specified period, complementing the direction choices, with fun nods to the 2000s including a Bluetooth earpiece, a Nokia flip phone and copies of Twilight. A moment of confusion occurred when Orlando emerged holding a crutch, later revealed to be a sword. Given the number of swords used in previous ShakeSoc productions, this seemed a strange choice.
  Where set and props may have been minimal, costume design by Alana Flesser and Alex McNeil served to bring to life directors Kazakoff and Keane’s Camp Rock vision. Notes from the movie were evident in Rosalind’s double-denim layered outfit with a thin overly-long scarf, alongside Phoebe’s iconic jeans adorned with a pink butterfly and diamantes. But where the others were giving Camp Rock, Celia’s costume was giving Clueless, and we were disappointed when she didn’t have a costume change, although the iconic reveal of a headband compensated for this.
  On the whole, As You Like It proved to be our favourite ShakeSoc show of the year. More committed to a distinct theme, drawing out as many jokes as possible yet still true to the Bard’s work, this production was an entertaining way to end ShakeSoc’s 2024 season. Congratulations to all involved in ShakeSoc productions this year, we can’t wait to see what 2025 has in store.

  Caitlin Davis

• Nothing makes sense: The beautiful eeriness of Pomona

  January 2, 2025 1:04 pm Comments Off on Nothing makes sense: The beautiful eeriness of Pomona

  NUTS’ 2024 season concluded with the other-worldly Pomona, the first amateur production of this show in Australia. Neither of us had ever heard of this show, so we had very few expectations going into it, and upon leaving we were both taken by the complexity and hypnotic nature of this production.
  This nonlinear work centres on Ollie, who is looking for her missing sister. Beyond this, much of the play is up to your own interpretation (we’re still coming up with competing theories about what it all means and how it ended).
  NUTS staged Pomona at the Ralph Wilson Theatre. For a review of this space and the overall comfort of the seating, please refer to our review of As You Like It.  For this production, the space served its purpose and beyond, with its multiple entry points adding to the ambience of this haunting experience.
  Director Teagan Matthews should be celebrated for her ability to bring this immensely difficult script to life. From the moment you stepped foot into the theatre you were immersed in a spine-chilling experience that, due to the lack of intermission, never truly ended. It is evident Matthews not only read but consumed this script, and whether or not her understanding aligned with ours, it led to a thought-provoking show. Matthews’ use of physicality and movement was a particular highlight. In particular, the fight choreography between Isaac Sewak’s Charlie and Rory Carter’s Moe was well-executed and more realistic than most student theatre productions. The best directing by Matthews was the use of game pieces — both dice and Rubix cubes — to enhance the intensity of Ollie’s journey through the tunnels of Pomona. The direction and movement of this scene is difficult to explain in print, and can only be described as a beautifully intense triumph.
  This performance featured a strong cast of seven, many of whom were fresh faces this season, all with the incredible ability to solve a Rubix cube on stage. We wonder if this was part of the audition process (Caitlin would have been cut). Sewak’s Charlie provided both comedic and dramatic moments throughout, and when acting alongside Carter, the pairing’s chemistry provided immense depth and range.
  Kudos should be given to Alex Ellwood, whose stoicism never broke, contrasting the chaos of the surroundings. Ellwood was arguably challenged the most by the script’s time jumps, which necessitated various characterisations throughout the play, and Ellwood should be celebrated for a well-thought out performance. Marcelle Brosnan should also be applauded for acting as the show’s sounding board, providing some much needed clarity and mothering.
  Though Malachi Bayley’s set never changed, it was adaptable, converting into an apartment, an office, a brothel, a gate and Pomona. The set featured multiple components that transformed what was otherwise a bare-boned theatre into Matthew’s mind. The creative set-up of black flats, some of which were adorned with graffiti and colourful posters, as well as a door, allowed for multiple points of entry, enhancing the mystery that is Pomona. Bayley also collated the props, which were well-integrated into the set, utilising the filing cabinet and numerous draws to allow for seamless transitions between scenes.
  The costumes for this show were quite simple and not the focus. Whilst apt for purpose, they weren’t a stand-out of this production. A special nod should, however, go to the collection of nerdy shirts worn by Charlie throughout.
  This show was technically exceptional. Both Paris Scharkie (sound) and Marty Kelly (lighting) were the creative glue holding this show together. Sound played a pivotal role in this show, with the consistent background noise making moments of silence all the more eerie. Kelly’s lighting design was interesting and truly utilised the entire capacity of the theatre’s set-up. The recurring motif of the kaleidoscope-like spiral when the Dungeons and Dragons game was being played was innovative and probably some clue about the meaning of this play, which we are still trying to figure out several hours later. The use of torches and hand-held lights in otherwise-darkness allowed the audience to feel involved in Ollie’s journey and the intensity of her path. Overall, both sound and lighting were extremely well-timed and rehearsed, aligning with even the most marginal of dialogue cues. Whilst often underappreciated, for this show in particular, it cannot be understated how impactful and considered the technical design was.
  We hope one day to figure out the meaning of this show, but regardless loved every confusing and thought-provoking moment. Whilst attendance on the particular night we saw the production was low — a particular shame considering the incredible work and effort put in — hopefully, the reopening of Kambri (fingers crossed) in 2025 encourages more of ANU to experience student theatre.
  Overall, NUTS should be congratulated for another incredible show and an impeccable season that was both cohesive and kept us on our toes. We can’t wait to see the direction NUTS goes in during 2025.

  Jessica Friderich

• Swarming with talent: Wright Hall bee-witches with the 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee

  12:56 pm Comments Off on Swarming with talent: Wright Hall bee-witches with the 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee

  When we heard that Wright Hall was making the brave choice to put on a production of The 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee musical this year, we were intrigued. Despite both being avid musical theatre fans, neither of us knew much about this show. 
  Putting on a musical is no easy feat, and Wright certainly impressed us with their ambitious delivery of this crowd-pleasing production. The show centres around a peculiar group of six students participating in a regional spelling bee. The six tweens are accompanied by three equally eclectic staff members, and four audience members selected from the crowd on the night. Each speller is highlighted with their own unique songs and backstory, allowing the audience to understand the motivation behind competing in the bee.
  As we continue to explore the theatre venues of Canberra — seriously, did anyone know there were more than three? — Wright selected the Polish White Eagle Club. What seemed like a bizarre venue turned out to be a great stage, well-adapted for this show. In saying this, the set remained unchanged throughout, and this limited backstage crossing would have made most theatres suitable. The high stage had high school assembly vibes, and the only improvement that could have been made — not that Wright had any say in this — was the lack of raised seating. Overall, surprisingly the Polish Club has amazing lighting capacity and was a smart choice.
  This production was directed by second-year Elizabeth Barnes, who should be applauded for her production of an ultimately cohesive and entertaining show. Barnes’ directing certainly brought out the best in this cast, whose individual talents were showcased in their distinct characterisations of their roles. A directorial challenge for this show is preparing your cast to be versatile and continually interact with the audience members brought on stage and Barnes certainly ensured both audience and cast were comfortable and engaged. Personally for us, with this particular cast, a comedic play might have been better suited. Due to the immense acting talent on-stage, and at times weaker vocal moments, a play would have highlighted the stronger aspects of the performance.
  Spelling Bee did not require an excessive amount of choreography. Despite this, the choreography that was incorporated, led by Katie Leib, proved cohesive, entertaining and dynamic. One of the few numbers featuring the entire cast was ‘Pandemonium’ which proved to be one of the strongest choreographed numbers of the show. Not only was the cast in sync, but the audience members involved on stage were helpfully led along by the rest of the cast, making for a hilarious inclusion.
  Centring the cast was Amy Gottschalk’s Olive, whose quiet but consistent presence showcased her extreme depth and range. Notably, the song ‘I Love You’ proved the most heartwarming number, showcasing Gottschalk, Emma Gannon and Jeremy Arndt’s stellar voices. Arndt was further featured alongside Liam Frost as gay dads, who perfectly brought the dance mom energy to spelling bees. Further standout characterisations were Maya Gribble’s nerdy child activist nerdy Logainne, Patrick Fullilove’s socially awkward and snotty William, as well as Madeline Gailee’s energetic and loveable Leaf. All actors should be applauded for their unique interpretations of these roles.
  Costuming, led by Ilise Laidlaw, was a spot-on nod to the awkwardness of being a tween, with those embarrassing fashion choices we all went through. Special acknowledgement should be made to the hilarity of Logainne’s rainbow pride accoutrements and Leaf’s distinct cape and helmet, which enhanced their roles greatly. June Atkin’s makeup was nothing short of impressive in the way it aged Douglas Panch. A strange but entertaining inclusion was Mitch’s juice box tattoo, a nod to his character presenting the eliminated contestants with a commissary juice box.
  From the moment the curtains lifted you truly felt as though you were in a high school auditorium ready to watch a spelling bee. Set designer Lizzie Cao definitely made use of Wright’s artistic talents, hand-painting numerous signs and banners to adorn the wings. Overall, while simple in some ways, this set was well-executed and a stand-out for this production.
  One of the biggest issues we had with this production was the sound. Unfortunately for musicals with microphones, they are often unreliable and difficult to work with. Throughout the production, different cast members’ microphones periodically turned on and off, rendering some lines inaudible. Whilst significant efforts were made to improve this throughout, at times switching to hand-held microphones, this was especially unfortunate as at times cast member’s sound levels were unable to be heard over the backing track. In saying this, we are not entirely sure what the Polish Club’s sound capacity was to start with, and sound is often temperamental and may have improved for future performances.
  Where sound sometimes had its faults, the lighting design of this show by Meg Mundy was well-timed and creative. Notably, the comedic spotlighting of an audience member in the seat reserved for Olive’s absent parent was precise and appropriately awkward for the moment. Creative rainbow lighting during ‘Pandemonium’ enhanced the hectic nature of the song, complimenting the choreography nicely. Overall, Mundy should be applauded for her well thought-through lighting design which kept the audience both engaged and entertained.
  Whilst neither of us were sure what to expect with this production, we were both amazed by the talent of Wright Hall. From comedic interactions to heartwarming melodies and innovative set and lighting, this college should be extremely proud of what they achieved. Kudos to Barnes and all involved, and we hope Wright continues this legacy of strong college productions in the future.

  Jessica Friderich

• Static Horror: A Review of I Saw the TV Glow

  September 24, 2024 12:33 pm Comments Off on Static Horror: A Review of I Saw the TV Glow

  The sensation of being at the edge of a personal revelation can be at once terrifying and beautiful. Words, heavy with possibility, are placed at the tip of your tongue. Once they escape, they can never be put back.
  This is the line that Jane Schoenbrun’s toes in her second feature I Saw The TV Glow, where the psychological horror doesn’t come from autonomy that is stripped away, but rather from the weight of having full responsibility and control over your life, and the fear of having wasted that autonomy by lying to yourself. The specific type of dread that comes from the possibility of self-destruction doesn’t need to be communicated by gore or jumpscares—in this space, static suburbia can be made threatening by its own ambiguous familiarity. A father staring, blank faced, while canned laughter spills from the TV set. A fallen powerline slithers and sparks across the road, spewing pages from a half-remembered book. An ice-cream truck watches from the sidelines. You don’t have to go far.
  Owen, played by Ian Foreman and then Justice Smith, is a painfully reclusive and sheltered teenager. His sickly and quiet mother is constantly frustrated in her attempts to connect with her son, and Owen’s looming and mostly silent father (Fred Durst) furthers his isolation by belittling his ‘girly’ interests. Owen’s interactions are halting, uncomfortable, and laden with a kind of resigned despair, as though he’s already accepted that it is easier, with the rough hand he has been dealt, to navigate the world as a non-person than to experience the pain of being trapped. He bonds with Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), an equally ostracised peer a few years older, over their love of the TV show The Pink Opaque. There’s a specific type of obsession unique to adolescence that Lundy-Paine communicates with raw, clumsy intensity — that feeling of trying to show someone how a piece of media you love has changed your life, the awkwardness in the gap between wanting to be understood, and the limitations of putting feelings into words. To Maddy and Owen, The Pink Opaque is a lifeline — from their alienated, pre-internet suburbia, on the other side of the screen, suspiciously relatable, overpowered heroines fight the same monsters of the week portrayed the way you remember them being when you were a kid: unintentionally terrifying on first impression; innocuous when revisited in adulthood. 
  I Saw the TV Glow is refreshingly explicit about its connection to trans experience and dysphoria, but it conveys this in a broad, metaphorical sense in such a unique way that seems like something of a formal miracle. The word ‘trans’ is never said, but the pervading sense of wrongness that Maddy and Owen feel is overwhelming in its intensity, conveyed by a grainy, analogue frame of neon light and a soft shoegaze soundtrack that imbues each moment with nostalgia, regret, and unease. Scribbled pink time cards and Owen’s matter of fact fourth wall breaking often abruptly adopt the tone and pace of kitschy millennial coming-of-age stories. But the school corridors are dark and vacant, and the arcade and movie theatre are silent. Owen’s addresses to the camera don’t create a sense of intimacy or triviality so much as they feel controlling, false, and disturbingly out of place. Instead of subverting genre tropes, Schoenbrun lets them function as a trapping of their own, an empty nostalgia prison that Owen has chosen to embrace. Though the film provides the setup and texture of a much happier story, Schoenbrun takes a calculated step back by portraying a protagonist whose story is unambiguously self-destructive, refusing the call up to the last frame. 
  Time moves differently in the suburbs, certain images moving slowly, ingraining themselves into the fabric of the film, others skipped entirely or only present for a moment, making it feel like you are constantly missing something. In Schoenbrun’s suburban nightmare, years don’t pass in seconds; they have already passed, unseen, by the time Owen takes the time to look back. His story is always in the rear view, always, in his mind, observed too late to change anything. The true devastation comes from our experience as the helpless viewer on the other side of the screen, who knows that Owen is wrong. There is still time, a chalk mural proclaims before the film moves towards the final act, a statement that seems more directed at the audience than at Owen, whose back is turned to the words and who certainly does not take them to heart. There is still time for us, the film warns, but here is what can and will happen if you choose to let time run away. It might not be too late now, but life is not endless. One day, the chalk words on the road will be wrong. 
  To me, what makes Schoenbrun’s film truly singular is its refusal to shy away from the true consequences of self-repression. No Hero’s Journey does passive participation in real life make — not everything will be okay, unless you work to make it so. Here is a film so intimate and specific that it will make some people cry in the cinema and stare blankly out the window on the drive home; here is also a film that humanises the still deeply taboo topic of dysphoria by pointing out the simple truth: if you want to change who you are, you can. There is still time. 
  Within Schoenbrun’s precise, familiar imagining of queer possibility, there is hope, and there is despair, dancing around each other, creating a picture that is at once horrifying and beautiful. Go see their film, if you can, in an empty cinema, where the light from the screen can set your face aglow. 

  Michael Reid

• Totally Tubular: The Comedy of Errors puts on a radical performance

  September 17, 2024 10:35 am Comments Off on Totally Tubular: The Comedy of Errors puts on a radical performance

  The return of student theatre in semester two was headlined by ShakeSoc’s The Comedy of Errors with a radical 80s twist. For first-time director Jessica Luff, choosing one of the Bard’s shortest works and, indeed, a comedy proved an incredibly smart choice.
  The Comedy of Errors centres on the mistaken identity of not only two twin brothers separated in a shipwreck but also identical enslaved twin brothers. Following a series of unfortunate misunderstandings, including not recognising your own wife, falling in love with her sister and being arrested for stealing a gold chain, chaos in the town ensues. In the end, the pairs finally reunite, uncovering the truth behind the shipwreck that tore the family apart.
  With the closure of Kambri Theatre for the remainder of the year, ShakeSoc decided to stage their production at the Canberra Theatre Centre’s Courtyard Theatre. The intimate, sparse theatre allowed for vast creative liberty, featuring well-tiered seating and extensive sound and lighting rigging, aspects generally lacking in the Kambri theatre from our experience. However, we assume that the lack of a backstage would have been troublesome for the cast and crew — although Luff’s clever direction ensured no unnecessary crossing of the stage — so we wonder how this might play out for larger productions scheduled for the Courtyard.
  The Comedy of Errors is a more accessible script, meaning that for audiences who are less well-versed in Shakespeare, minor gaps in understanding were bridged by a relatively straightforward plot coupled with Luff’s extraction of every potential physical comedy element. Re-contextualisation in the 80s proved a fun choice, with distinct nods to the decade throughout the play. However, the difficulty with the re-contextualisation of Shakespeare is the extent to which you alter the script to truly commit to the time period. Here, it felt like a slight gimmick to draw in audiences, and we would have loved to see further commitment beyond the music and costuming. Overall, you can see that Luff thought through every single scene in detail, which was particularly highlighted in the cafe date-style scene, which was both well-directed and comedic. All the characters were well-utilised with clear background directing when individuals did not have lines, whilst similarly not saturating the scene with unnecessary bodies on stage. There was a slight slump in the second act, possibly due to many original ideas used in the first half. However, Luff should be applauded as continuous laughter from the audience proved their enjoyment throughout.
  As an ensemble, this cast appeared to genuinely enjoy being together on stage. Our biggest stand-out from this production came from the pairing of Oscar Mikic as Antipholus of Syracuse and Ava Ferrari as Dromio of Syracuse. Both remained intensely committed to the slapstick nature of the show, acting larger-than-life at every opportunity. This dynamic was further enhanced by the chemistry between the two, something lacking in their twin counterparts. Ferrari’s ability to change accents ranging from American to Spanish showed an impressive range, with a further comedic moment occurring with dance moves timed to the door-knocking sound cues.
  Although rarely appearing together, Ferrari and Julia Wedgewood-Oppenheim were an unbelievably funny twin pairing. Each mirrored the mannerisms and energy of one another, making clear that despite not looking identical, they came across as convincing brothers. While many of the characters relied on physical slapstick comedy, refreshing characterisation came from the sisters Eloise Bisley and Ella Buckley played. Both portrayed the depth of their characters, reacting well to the chaos as it ensued.
  The lighting design by Steph Evans remained consistent, with particular highlights occurring with colour changing to red where Satan was mentioned and outbursts of anger arose. However, whilst sufficient, potentially greater variety throughout — especially considering the extensive rigging of the theatre — would have enhanced the production and its 80s charm. Similarly, Tom Lyle’s sound design absolutely served a clear purpose. Well-timed knocking and cartoonish-boingy throwing effects added comedy, amplifying the already slapstick scenes. A crowd-pleasing aspect of this show came from the transition music featuring 80s bops, which had the audience singing along.
  Whilst there were very few major set changes, the inclusion of the popular transition music allowed for slightly slower resets without much notice. Further, the team’s commitment to the 80s theme with their period outfits and similar enthusiasm for the music added to the genuine enjoyment and camaraderie of this production.
  What most illustrated the time period was the costuming, with shoulder pads, an ET graphic t-shirt, and a fluoro pink skin-tight leotard, which were just some of the nods to the iconic decade. Through innovative colour-blocking, the pairings of twins were made clear, with other characters similarly assigned their own unique aesthetic that showcased their characters’ personalities.
  Turning now to the set, when we walked into the theatre, we were immediately met with the familiar comic stylings of the classic 80s music video for Take-On-Me by A-ha. Three white sheets adorned with beautifully hand-drawn locations created by Rose Kenyon and Jeremia Kim covered each third of the stage. Whilst very well designed, the location choices for the differing areas could have better mirrored the settings of the play as it unfolded, with the possibility of a police station making more sense than a dollar store.
  Further, props created by Sophie Chiew were another clear nod to the decade. Attention to detail didn’t go unnoticed; small items such as a teen magazine from the 80s and small beanie babies certainly reinforced Luff’s directorial vision.
  Overall, this cast and crew should be applauded for putting on a show that screamed, ‘Don’t you forget about me.’ With one final show in ShakeSoc’s 2024 season, we look forward to their upcoming production of As You Like It.

  Jessica Friderich

• A reminder to feed your dad: “Third Storey” debuts to packed audiences

  August 20, 2024 5:50 pm Comments Off on A reminder to feed your dad: “Third Storey” debuts to packed audiences

  Easily the bravest choice of NUTS’ 2024 season was their first ever full length student-written play, Third Storey, written and directed by Eli Narev and Adam Gottschalk (pictured above). We had little to no expectations walking into this show, and upon leaving could only describe it as “on crack, but in the best way.”
  Third Storey follows prank influencers Jax and Gene, who have been awarded a grant to make a feature film. The play follows the chaos of their creative process as characters slowly stray from sanity in their attempts to adapt Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis into a one-woman motion picture. Locked in a three storey house, the script explores complex systems of rules, family dynamics, the hunger for perfection, and an attic full of possum shit.
  The original script was witty, deeply funny, heart warming and often unexpected. Narev and Gottschalk should be commended on the multi-faceted nature of the characters they created, building an ensemble of individuals easily recognisable to a modern audience. Many of the script’s most tender moments occurred between Annabelle Hansen’s Judie and Beth Fuccilli’s Bev, where the writing touched on some of the difficulties of parenting, questioning to what extent we are all impacted by the choices our parents make. A standout writing and directorial moment in the first act came from an attempt by director-character Jax (played by Adelaide Hayes) to shoot the one-woman scene sequentially one line at a time. As the characters scrambled to perform quick changes, the comedic direction of Elizabeth Barnes’ Alison counting down by ones each time she switched personas had the audience dissolving into laughter.
  While the script was excellent overall, it could have potentially benefited from further editing. The production — especially the first act — felt overlong at times. This length can be attributed to attempts to give too many characters tragic backstories, which were at times rushed, and lengthy duologues that could have been shortened or cut.
  Turning now to the cast, both of our stand-out performances came from Fuccilli and Mischa Rippon as Bev and Graham, the loveable, stereotypical Aussie parents. The moment they stepped on stage they brought a refreshing lightness that cut through the length of Act One, being comedic, touching, and most importantly giving a sense of humanity to the show. The pair’s talent was further highlighted in the dramatic twist at the conclusion of the show, where despite blood pooling from his mouth Rippon, with stoic determination, refused to break character, whilst Fuccilli continued to movingly comfort her husband.
  Paralleling their parents’ dynamics, the sibling duo of Hayes’ Jax and Callum Doherty’s Gene highlighted the range of these actors. In particular, Doherty’s raw, haunted expression at the end of Act Two silenced the audience. Another actor of note was Thomas Neil in his portrayal as the dorky, golden retriever boyfriend Dom who arguably had one of the more significant character developments throughout, emphasising Neil’s versatility as an actor. However other characters, like Pip and the Producer, felt a little rushed and underdeveloped.
  An unconventional inclusion for this production was an original garment from Bridget Matison who created a one-of-a-kind cockroach inspired showgirl costume. This bold choice highlighted the eccentricity of the film being created, enhancing Barnes’ dramatic interpretation of Kafka’s Gregor as a cockroach. Additionally, the evening wear used for the award show scenes provided contrast to the otherwise ordinary costumes used throughout the rest of the show. Overall, the costume design led by Lara Connolly was cohesive and enhanced the portrayal of each of the characters.
  The set for this production was exceptional. Credit must be given to set designer Katja Curtin and assistant set designer Grace Fletcher who managed to transform Kambri drama theatre into a convincing family home. There were two major sets, the first being the exterior of the house, with well-executed painting of black flats making the set look three-dimensional. The second set displayed the interior of the home, utilising a raised stage to highlight two of the three storeys. The set was further enhanced by the cohesion of the actors’ entrances and exits, at times circling behind the stage to illustrate the journey of travelling to the second floor. Furnished with effective props, this set is certainly a stand-out from the sets we have seen in Kambri this year.
  Unfortunately, during the blackouts where set and numerous prop changes occurred the backstage crew moved at what felt like a glacial pace, with a lack of transition music, forcing the audience to hone in on the movements of the crew. Where the script was already long, this elongated the show further.
  The lighting design by Jessica Peacock was effective, using spotlights and blackouts where necessary for the script. Whilst at times slightly delayed — Kambri lighting is notoriously unreliable — more creative lighting may have enhanced the script. An inclusion we might suggest would be varying the lighting when the camera was rolling to dramatically differentiate. Further, Genevieve Cox’s sound design was apt for purpose and well-timed.
  Neither of us were quite prepared for the dramatic twist at the denouement of this production. All we can say from that ending for those who did not get to see the show is…remember to feed your dad. Overall, the show proved an immense success and we are excited to see what is next for the witty writing duo of Narev and Gottschalk.

  Jessica Friderich

• ShakeSoc’s TIBB: Bitchin’ Teens in Togas and Romeo as a Sparkling Vampire

  July 31, 2024 12:50 pm Comments Off on ShakeSoc’s TIBB: Bitchin’ Teens in Togas and Romeo as a Sparkling Vampire

  For those who have never experienced Then I’ll Be Brief (TIBB), it is essentially ShakeSoc’s annual Year 10 camp-vibe theatre show. Full of comical skits from your favourite Shakespeare plays alongside some original modern renditions, this production serves to highlight the range of ShakeSoc as a theatre society. This year’s show consisted of six skits each with their own director, with some extra ‘TIBB bits’ in-between.
  One of our favourite skits was the ‘Julius Caesar Toga Party’ directed by Georgia Motto. Recontextualised in American Greek life, Motto took Shakespeare’s work and enhanced its comedy by introducing caricatures of the kind of college students we all love to hate. Leading the scene were seasoned ShakeSoc Treasurer Liat Granot and newcomer Zara Sheldrick-Aboud, whose comedic timing enhanced the raunchy nature of Shakespeare’s work. Motto’s witty decision to incorporate the well-known Gretchen Wieners monologue from ‘Mean Girls’ had the audience agreeing “We should totally just stab Caesar!”
  Another scene that we and the audience enjoyed was ‘Hammy’ directed by India Kazakoff. Inspired by one of Shakespeare’s most famous works Hamlet, Kazakoff amplified the ridiculousness of Shakespeare’s plot as Hamlet attempts to cover up the murder of his prospective father-in-law. All actors in this scene stood out, and perhaps credit should again be given to Kazakoff for bringing out the best in her troupe of performers. Whilst difficult to single out a standout from this performance, James Phillips and Féy Etherington as the iconic duo Rosencrantz and Guildenstern utilised their bro-energy to captivate the audience. 
  When entering the theatre that night, the last thing on either of our bingo cards for this show was a Shakespeare inspired Twilight scene, but that was exactly what Olivia Hobbs delivered. Conflating modern star-crossed lovers Edward and Bella with Romeo and Juliet, Hobbs took the audience on a journey through all five books in the Twilight Saga, utilising a mix of traditional lines from Romeo and Juliet and dialogue from the cult-classic movies. Complete with Zac Mccutcheon’s glittery chest and Georgia Mcculloch’s awkward Kristen Stewart mannerisms, the pair sped through the fever dream that was the Twilight-era. What made this scene stand-out was perhaps its distinct differentiation from the other recontextualizations by truly taking creative liberty with the Bard’s work.
  An entertaining feature of TIBB is the ‘TIBB bits,’ snappy parodies more similar to the types of skits you would see in a revue. From the three included in this year’s show, the ‘Leo’s Monologue’ starring Sheldrick-Aboud, making fun of DiCaprio’s penchant for younger women, and ‘Directors Cut’ on the seemingly endless Shakespeare adaptations in popular culture proved humorous inclusions. However the third skit, the ‘Rappeth Battle’, fell on deaf ears.
  Both adaptations of Much Ado About Nothing were entertaining, providing laughs, but not especially memorable. TIBB’s inclusion of a short musical comedy ‘it was so…’ was the weakest of the night. The cast appeared disinterested and awkward while singing live, making it difficult to understand. Unfortunately, when choreography was introduced it did not elevate the skit, rather highlighting the lack of enthusiasm. Directors and the artistic director walked on stage from the audience to join the dance, an interesting choice that could have been better supplemented with some of the under-utilised cast.
  Now to the crew. TIBB isn’t a show known for its flashy set or costumes. Instead, the scene changes rely on a basic stage fit for multiple purposes. When some simple set pieces were brought on stage, the crew at times were fumbling and seemed under-rehearsed. Similarly, the costumes are often singular pieces over the top of stage-blacks that, whilst indicating different characters, rarely add significantly to the show. But kudos can be given in this department for the spot-on representations of Bella Swan’s 2010s layered fashion and Edward’s sparkling chest immediately identifiable as a reference to the film.
  On opening night, prior to the commencement of the show, artistic director Charlotte Harris made an announcement that technical issues with the lights had occurred. Consequently, there was an inability to remove a green hue from the stage. Keeping this in mind, the lighting design was a little simplistic — potentially due to further difficulties — leaving us wondering whether the scenes might have been enhanced by more creative lighting.
  Sound design by Tom Lyle was technically proficient. During the scenes, the occasional sound bite made up for the lack of set, creating the appropriate atmosphere. Music in between skits whilst the crew moved set pieces had us bopping along in our seats, making the gaps between scenes feel significantly shorter.
  Overall, this year’s TIBB proved an entertaining 90 minutes. Despite the highs and lows, the audience left the theatre amused by the creativity of the six directors. Possibly concluding with a remix of ‘I’m Just Ken’ as ‘I’m Just Dead’ was a misjudgement by the creative team, as we would have preferred to be left with the crowd-favourite Twilight scene.
  ShakeSoc have concluded their first semester of shows on a high note, and we expect to see the tradition of TIBB continue on to a fourth year in 2025.

  Caitlin Davis

• Review: Monkey Man

  July 24, 2024 2:26 pm Comments Off on Review: Monkey Man

  Hater pants on, popcorn in hand, and my lip-gloss flawlessly intact, I had made up my mind: when I came out of Palace Cinema’s screening of the highly anticipated Monkey Man, I must and would most definitely be profoundly offended. And not just because I’m a self-proclaimed saffron-loving religious bigot of a “patriot” (note: sarcasm) who couldn’t tolerate the film’s unflinching description of how Hindu nationalism has blighted the Indian polity and society but also because I’m sick of the fanciful Western notion of “India: Where poverty shines and hope declines!”    
  I wasn’t super excited for a new rendition of the same old saga: immense suffering and poverty in India, the daunting, ubiquitous corruption, and most excruciatingly, the repetitive strains of the only Indian music that the myopic Western media recognises (cue the tabla and intro tune to “Mundian To Bach Ke (Beware of the Boys)”). The West’s perpetual fixation on Third World poverty and class division has become exasperating. Yes! It exists — I can vouch for it — but no, that’s not all there is.
  But alas! Dev Patel, the man that you are, you completely disarmed me. I absolutely most definitely loved the movie (and Dev Patel himself). And trust me, it boils my “nationalist” blood to say this. Because honestly, how dare this British-Indian guy craft an astoundingly sly satire on Indian politics and societal conditions? How dare he do such a bloody fantastic job at it?
  ‘You know it’s the ultimate underdog action film, I’m a huge fan of the genre… (but) I never had access to it, looking like this gangly Indian dude. The only kind of roles I was getting offered were the funny sidekick or the guy that hacks the mainframe for the lead dude. So, I was like I got to write this thing for myself.’
  — Patel on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon
  With Monkey Man’s stunning cinematography and the actors’ captivating on-screen presence, there is no way the audience could guess that this is, in fact, Patel’s directorial debut.  The movie gracefully pirouettes amidst alluring visuals, each frame and sequence, a stroke of such magnificent artistry that it’d easily put some of the most renowned directors to shame. Minutes into the film, you can tell that this is a labour of love, blood, and broken bones. 
  Sure, the plot is predictable at first glance (I wouldn’t have watched it if I weren’t engulfed by this all-consuming creative void looming over my next piece) — there’s this kid leading a life of serenity with his mother until one devastating day when the bad guys show up and kill her, the kid grows up traumatised, then there’s some grandiose “remember who you are” journey to self-storyline in between, he seeks revenge and triumphs over evil, and yay! world order is restored. It’s a story we’ve heard one too many times before. But at no point does the film feel stale. Patel hits you with a rich tapestry of religion, mythology, politics, class divide, and gender among other complex societal issues that one would ordinarily keep mum about. My naive assumption that this would just be some Slumdog Millionaire x John Wick parody went flying out the window. 
  The movie draws extensively from the Hindu mythology of Ramayana, which, as Patel shares in several interviews, is also his loving way of paying homage to cherished memories of his father recounting stories of the half-man half-monkey Hindu deity: Hanuman, during his childhood. This is a British kid who grew up in the diaspora, ashamed of his Indian roots, finally embracing his heritage and (literally) taking control of the narrative.  
  For those who may not be familiar, in Hindu households mothers often tend to affectionately address their sons with names derived from the names of Hindu gods. Well, in the case of Patel’s character, he takes his mother’s endearing reference to Hanuman a little too devoutly. But then, he wouldn’t be the ever-doting Indian son if he didn’t go around in a low-budget rubber monkey mask, valiantly fighting the bad guys to seek revenge for his beloved mother’s gruesome death. Trust me, becoming an embodiment of an actual deity for your dead mother isn’t very extravagant as per Indian film standards.
  An intriguing observation that even those with passing knowledge of Ramayana would’ve made is the absence of a character symbolising  Lord Ram. Unlike the mythology, where Ram is the central figure and Hanuman is his devoted helper, a side character so to say, who supports Ram in his journey to rescue his wife from a demon king, the movie instead places Hanuman at the forefront, with no Ram in sight. Esteemed analysts (me) interpret this absence as a conscious critique of India’s ruling party. The Bharatiya Janata Party, which is currently in power, is notorious for utilising Lord Ram as a formidable political symbol and has been associated with heightening religion-based politics and pushing for Hindu supremacy in the country. Patel, very intelligently and insidiously (given the uphill battle that he now faces with India’s censor board), uses the tools that Indian politicians adore against them. The movie is his own modest revolution.
  Another impressive aspect of the movie is the remarkable portrayal of the hijras, India’s third-gender community. While the society has always been judgemental of them and still looks down upon the community with disdain, defying all convention, the movie wondrously showcases them as nurturing and stalwart protectors; everything you’d never expect to see. In the film, they assume the role of temple keepers and assist Patel’s character in his journey of rebirth and transformation. This also draws parallels to Hindu mythology, as they are symbolic of the Vanar Sena (army of monkeys) who aided Lord Ram in his conquest. The scene where they show up to the final fight, in all their glory — donning extravagant masks and costumes — was beautiful and undeniably chilling. These characters are, surprisingly enough, not some forced plot device to help the movie pass a superficial “woke” criteria. Patel doesn’t try to beat the audience with overburdening messages of social consciousness. Instead, he simply elevates them to fully-realised human beings with rich, complex and mundane lives just like any other. They dance and sing and cook and care and love like all humans do. They are nuanced and well-developed characters with actual significance in the movie, which is truly revolutionary! The sheer brilliance with which the actors execute these well-written roles is commendable. In light of the discrimination and mockery that this community is still subjected to in Indian society, this was a much-needed treat. This is Patel’s “How to Ace Marginalised Representation 101”, and the entire industry needs to be schooled.
  However, all that being said, I do have one qualm: the limited screen time with the female lead. For those who are not aware, the female lead, who in the movie portrays the role of a sex worker working for the fancy brothel run by Patel’s evil nemesis, Sobhita Dhulipala is the Indian film industry’s latest obsession having come out of the online streaming landscape. Those who’ve seen her previous works will agree that her character was grossly underutilised. With all the potential she has, there was so much scope to develop her character beautifully without it having to interfere with the main character and his vengeance arc. While I still appreciate her presence and do realise that this was her big global break, which of course holds great pertinence to her career, I also do not think we’d be robbed of any substantial element if they’d killed her character in the first half.
  Alright, final remarks? If you’ve been blissfully living under some rock and still haven’t watched the movie, I cannot stress enough how fundamental it is for you to drop every other thing and go see it as soon as possible. Remember, life was never about the grind or the tears we shed over unending uni-work, it’s always been the controversial political commentaries we watched. It’d be criminal to not watch it and it’d be criminal to not start a Dev Patel appreciation society on campus so we can worship the ground he walks on and the air he breathes.

  Anuva Rai

• The Chemistry of Theatre: The Effect is more than just a placebo

  May 14, 2024 4:21 pm Comments Off on The Chemistry of Theatre: The Effect is more than just a placebo

  National University Theatre Society’s (NUTS) production of The Effect, silenced the audience both during and after the show with its breathtaking illustration of the human experience in heightened circumstances.
  Lucy Prebble’s The Effect follows two protagonists entering a four-week clinical antidepressant drug trial. The pair grapple with the nature of the trial, wondering if their sudden desires are true love or merely a side-effect of the drug.
  The decision by Director Paris Scharkie to open the NUTS season with this heart wrenching drama was an inspired choice. Staged as a theatre-in-the-round, the audience was truly immersed, experiencing the highs and lows alongside Connie and Tristan. The simplistic technical proficiency of the show left the audience with questions about the efficacy of drug trials and whether emotions can be manipulated by chemical compounds propagated by pharmaceutical companies.
  With only four members of the cast, there was nowhere to hide — especially considering they were on stage the entire time. Fortunately, there was no need. Eli Powles’ fast-paced and sharp Tristan brought the lighter moments, making the contrast in his moments of crisis more poignant. Tash Lyall’s Connie drove the story, with the highs and lows of her character truly showing her incredible range. A testament to the creative team and the pair, their chemistry could not have been questioned by the audience.
  Just as Lyall’s performance showed her range, so too did Amy Gottschalk’s Dr Lorna James. Her astute clinical professionalism contrasted with a deep psychological turmoil brought the character to life, with her Act Two monologue reinforcing Gottschalk’s versatility. Another monologue that demonstrated the talent of this cast was the Ted Talk-style monologue of Isaac Sewak’s Toby Sealey. The sudden shift in pace provided a shining moment for Sealey, who was otherwise under-utilised.
  The highlight of the show for both of us came at the end of Act 1. Scharkie’s direction coupled with Kathleen Kershaw’s movement coaching narrated its own story of a couple in the early-stages of love. Individual freeze-frames mixed with effective lighting and the chemistry of Powles and Lyall illustrated through movement the small-moments in a developing relationship. Ending Act 1 with this masterpiece meant the intermission allowed audiences a chance to sit with the dopamine produced alongside the uncomfortable knowledge the play was about to intensify. The return of the freeze-frames in the medical episode was another piece of brilliant direction, portraying the chaos of what was occurring. Utilising this directorial style in a drastically different situation complemented the earlier scene.
  Despite the simplicity of the set, the utilisation of innovative lighting and technology transformed the often-barren space of Kambri Theatre into an immersive clinical experience. Watching Marty Kelly and Charlotte Harris’ lighting design it was evident that unlike many other shows, this design had been well thought through, with a clear understanding of the script, a testament to the amount of work that must have gone into this part of the show. Not only were standard overhead lights utilised, but also LED lights surrounding the stage, multiple projectors, a glowing tablet and two light-boxes sitting on the stage. The sheer amount of coordination that was required and went off without a hitch on opening night was masterful.
  The only improvement that could have been made to this show was the sound design. Reading the program and hearing there would be an original score sparked our interest. Unfortunately, we were left slightly disappointed and unsure where the original score was. What sound was utilised didn’t often lessen the atmosphere of the show, but paled in comparison to the proficiency of the rest of the production.
  Similarly, the costuming was simplistic yet effective. It did not detract and fitted its purpose for this show, however was not of particular note. Regardless, costuming was not a crucial part of this play, allowing the audience to focus on the raw performances of the actors, however, played its role in ensuring the character’s ease of movement.
  As a theatre-in-the-round show, the stage was raised in the centre reinforcing the immersive experience. Rather than a stand-alone set, the cast utilised white wooden cubes to create the scenes. The seamless transitions of the movement of the blocks by the cast was both well-directed and well-rehearsed. Whilst limited props, those used were instrumental, with a highlight being the jellified brain dripping with goo.
  Another area of improvement was the hanging and centring of the projectors at either end. In comparison to the rest of the well-done set, it looked tacky and rushed. Nonetheless, the projectors added small touches – such as the counting down from intermission and dosage sizes – reinforcing how well thought through this play was.
  Overall, this did not feel like a show that had been put on in seven weeks. The attention to detail and overall collaborative effort helmed by Scharkie made it seem as though she had been working on this show for years. We attended opening night, which was not packed, and hope more people had the opportunity to see this incredible show — we know we certainly raved about it to friends. If this is how NUTS is opening their 2024 season, we are very excited to see their upcoming shows.
  Rating 4.8/5

  Jessica Friderich