Back to Te Maunga review | La Mama Theatre

In Back to Te Maunga, childhood Māori friends Tāne and Isaac reunite after many years apart, with Isaac living in England and Tāne remaining in Aotearoa, New Zealand. Coming together in a rural cabin, where Tui beer flows, whiskey disappears, and a feast is shared, this quickly becomes more than a simple catch-up. In a moving story by Joel Te Teira, secrets and shame surface, challenging their friendship and their connection to the land.

Joe Dekkers-Reihana and Jordan Selwyn generate compelling chemistry on stage. Their performances are naturalistic and deeply authentic, capturing the fractured tenderness of two men whose lives have diverged but whose bond remains intact. Verbal exchanges hit with impact, matched by some dynamic fight choreography by Lyndall Grant. Their dialogue reflects a long familiarity, and the emotional weight each actor brings elevates every scene.

Jenna Suffern on faking it, finding it and performing it | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | Motley Wherehaus

There is a particular kind of delusion required to work in comedy, the sort that tells you to spend money you do not have, back yourself anyway and commit to the bit no matter how unhinged it sounds. For Jenna Suffern, that delusion comes served with a posh accent and the rallying cry of a show that skewers ambition, image and the fine line between confidence and chaos.

"The back story for Lobster In A Glass is that I was at my friend's birthday and I asked them what they wanted to drink. They were taking aggggges to decide so I said in a posh English accent 'what do you want, a bloody lobster in a glass or something?' This then became a bit of a vocal stim for my friend and I and we adopted the mantra of 'fuck it, just order the lobster in a glass'. So when it came time to bring together what the heck this would be about, I realised Lobster In A Glass was perfect since it represents so many different things," she says.

All eyes on Samora Squid: The sideshow daredevil goes solo | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | The Tote

For 25 years, Samora Squid has been twisting, bending, and testing the limits of the human body in sideshows and circus acts around the world. Now, alone for the first time, they’re turning the spotlight fully on themselves in Squid's Sunday Sideshow. Equal parts daring, absurd, and unexpectedly funny, Squid’s solo debut promises a ride where the audience never knows whether to gasp, squirm, or laugh - and often all three at once.

After nearly three decades performing in circus and sideshow nights, it came down to alignment and timing for Squid to finally take the stage on their own. "It was all about opportunity, and simultaneously having the motivation and discipline," they tell me. "I met the right people who were running the right venue, and they gave me a space to present something unusual and original and at the same time that registrations for the Melbourne International Comedy Festival were happening."

Opera for the Dead | 祭歌 review | Arts House

Eight hours before stepping into Opera for the Dead | 祭歌, I had been at a funeral. It was a death that arrives without warning, even after a life well-lived. By the time I entered the space at Art House, the weight of the day had settled in. Rather than wondering how I might react, I found myself acutely aware of the strange symmetry, moving from a real farewell into an immersive exploration on life and death.

Created by Mindy Meng Wang and Monica Lim, the work fuses music, visuals and technology into a contemporary Chinese cyber-opera that is both ancient and strikingly modern. Before the show begins, the audience is gathered into a “waiting room”. Chanting hums through the space, cyclical and meditative, while an electronic sign suspended above us flashes the word REMEMBER, its glow washing over us like a quiet instruction. The atmosphere is deliberate, balanced between worlds.

Hear My Eyes - Terminator 2: Judgment Day review | Arts Centre Melbourne

It’s been roughly 20 years since I last watched Terminator 2. And it's been a decade since I last stepped into a Hear My Eyes presentation, back when they paired Xavier Dolan’s Heartbeats with an amazing live score by Melbourne’s GL. Both unforgettable. Both somehow left sitting in the “I need to revisit that” pile. Well, consider that rectified. Hear My Eyes have resurrected Terminator 2 and strapped it to a live, pulse-rattling score by Belgian electronic heavyweight Peter Van Hoesen. What this evening offers isn't just a rewatch, it’s a complete sensory overhaul. It's a blockbuster icon colliding with brooding, atmospheric techno. Propelled by electronic sound and framed by a laser show, it gives the film a new intensity and presence.

Terminator 2 is a classic, but this isn’t about revisiting it, it’s about the experience Hear My Eyes have built around it, starting with the music. Van Hoesen brings over four decades of expertise to the performance. Generally a solo artist, for this event he is joined by the Melbourne Electronic Sound Studio (MESS) Synthesiser Ensemble, gathered around a purpose-built liquid metal style table, where they, alongside lighting artist Robin Fox, perform and shape the sound and light in real time.

Harley Dasey is facing demons and songs in Evil Dead the Musical | Melbourne International Comedy Festival |Chapel Off Chapel

Blood, chainsaws, and demonic mayhem have never sounded so infectious. Evil Dead: The Musical turns the cult horror franchise into a high-energy, over-the-top stage spectacle. In this whirlwind of gore, comedy, and camp, we spoke with Harley Dasey as he prepares to step into the legendary shoes of Ash, bringing the chainsaw-wielding hero to life for a new generation of terrified - and thoroughly entertained - audiences.

While initially not fan of the Evil Dead franchise, it didn't take long for Dasey to succumb to the allure of all that is ancient and evil. "I didn’t even know what The Evil Dead was besides the title, but I am absolutely hooked now," he tells me. "I don’t have a particular moment where I had an epiphany that this was the show for me, but I do remember reading the script, listening to the music, watching clips from the movies and other productions on YouTube and thinking 'this is ridiculous… I love it'. The musical is certainly wild, and that is my favourite kind of show. Having now watched the films and immersed myself deeper in the world of the Evil Dead, I couldn't be more excited."

Ryan Smith is letting pandas show us what it means to be human | Club Voltaire

In a world where pandas talk, romance comes with deadlines, and absurdity meets empathy, Ryan Smith’s The Pandas of the Adelaide Zoo takes audiences on a delightfully unique journey. Blending facts with embellishments, the play explores the quirks of animal behaviour while holding up a mirror to human relationships and pressures through the lives of two pandas. In this interview, Smith chats to us on why talking pandas, romance on demand, and a little nonsense can reveal much about human behaviour.

This is an “almost true” story, and while it sticks to the essence of real-life events, some creative liberties were taken, including, but not limited to, giving the pandas the ability to talk. "Well I guess the biggest liberty was that pandas don't talk. Our pandas do, they talk a lot," Smith tells me. "This was one of those plays that began with a one-line gag and then the more I pulled at the thread the more intriguing it became. I was constantly researching the breeding habits of pandas (my search history is bizarre and a little concerning) and the more I learnt the more I said 'well that has to be in the show'."