Saturday Night Fever review | The Athenaeum Theatre

Saturday Night Fever follows Tony Manero, a young man from Brooklyn trying to escape the grind of his working-class life through disco, ambition, and the hope of love. The musical immerses the audience into the glittering, pulsating world of 1970s disco, but beneath the sequins and platform shoes, it touches on darker realities of family conflict, personal trauma, and the pressures of growing up. While the show’s set, costumes, and music vividly capture the era and energy of the dance floor, the tension between its flashy, celebratory style and the weight of its serious themes creates a complex, sometimes uneasy viewing experience.

Blackpill: Redux review | Theatre Works

Online hate communities aimed at young men are growing faster and more insidious than many of us realise, quietly luring them at their most vulnerable. Blackpill: Redux exposes how easily curiosity and insecurity can be manipulated, taking small questions about confidence, dating, or self-worth and spinning them into a dark, isolating digital world where belonging is weaponised and anger is cultivated. 

There are several standout scenes, including our protagonist Eli scrolling through Instagram reels before finding his gateway to the Blackpill community. A later striking sequence has the ensemble appear in Eli’s dreams - or perhaps nightmares - each wearing a mask of problematic pop culture men, such as Ross from Friends, Mark from Love Actually, and Professor Snape from Harry Potter. It’s incredibly creepy and heightens the unsettling mood. The cast is dynamic and versatile, wholly inhabiting both intimate and group moments, and brings a tense energy whenever they appear.

I’m Only Dating These Men... explores the messy, funny world of gay love | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

In I’m Only Dating These Men Because My Uncle Bequeathed Me Money and I Need to Get Married by the End of the Year (now that's a mouthful!), Larry is a man racing against time to find love - or at least a legal spouse - before an eccentric uncle’s conditions upend his life. The two-man musical turns dating into a hilarious obstacle course, introducing audiences to a parade of absurd, unforgettable characters while exploring what love, partnership, and connection really mean. Creators, Trent Cliffe and Luke Costabile, take us inside the making of the show, from its wild comedic moments to the personal experiences that shaped its heart.

2025 My Melbourne Arts Awards

For twelve years now, I’ve been publishing my favourite theatre of the year. It started as a simple best-of list and slowly became my ritual, part celebration, part love letter to the Melbourne theatre scene. But for 2025, I’m shaking it up! :)

Instead of crowning just one “best show”, this year I’m recognising the people behind the work. The directors, performers, writers, designers, and creative forces who made this year what it was. Fourteen categories, because the performing arts is never just one thing, and neither is excellence.
(In retrospect, there's other categories I should have considered - namely Best Clown, Best Cabaret Artist, Best Dancer and Best Experimental - and will consider these for inclusion in the 2026 MMA Awards.)

I say some version of this every year, because it never stops being true. The shows that stay with you longest are not always the big, glossy productions with a marketing budget and recognisable names. Sometimes it’s the little show that ran for four nights and played to ten peopl that absolutely wrecks you. Support independent theatre makers and venues. Some tickets cost less than $30 and can deliver the most original, daring, and affecting work you’ll see all year.

There’s already plenty to be excited about in 2026. Take a risk. See something you’ve never heard of. Walk into a space you’ve never been to. Melbourne theatre thrives on curiosity, and these awards exist to celebrate exactly that.

And with that, here are the nominees and winners in the 2025 My Melbourne Arts Awards:

Split Ends review | The Motley Bauhaus

Autobiographical theatre walks a tightrope. When a story is this intimate, this traumatic, the danger is never just about being vulnerable on stage; it is whether the work can shape lived pain into something theatrically legible without flattening it, sensationalising it, or asking the audience for sympathy. The challenge is not about being honest, but about keeping control. To revisit periods of OCD, coercion, compulsion, and abuse of power, requires a level of precision that goes far beyond confession. It demands structure, restraint, and a clear artistic vision. Split Ends understands that risk from the outset, and rather than retreating from it, Claudia Shnier meets it head-on.

Split Ends unfolds across two intertwined narratives: Shnier’s private, painfully obsessive relationship with her hair, and the surreal relationship with her Vacuum boyfriend, who continues to suck the life out of her. Through puppetry, physical theatre, and sharp, sometimes jarring musical numbers, these stories become extremely vivid without losing their depth and resonance.

Turning taboo into theatre: Keelan Armstrong on PORN | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

Turn off the lights and brace yourself. PORN, directed by Keelan Armstrong, takes audiences on a provocative, queer-led journey into one of society’s most taboo industries. Through a series of monologues, the play considers how pornography shapes desire, identity, and shame, all while exploring the humour, awkwardness, and unexpected truths that come with navigating a world where both queer lives and adult content are often treated as forbidden.

For Armstrong, this exploration is deeply personal, moulded by his own experiences growing up queer. "I grew up in a weird era for queer kids, where no one would commit a hate crime against you, but at the same time no one acknowledged the existence of queer people. So I turned to pornography to basically show me what a queer relationship could look like. And I think many young queer people do this in the hope to understand themselves and their queer identity more," he explains.

Final Queen: Where drag meets danger and gay glam meets gore | Midsumma Festival | Gasworks Arts Park

Armed with a hot pink Holden Commodore, circus queen Grace Lightning, the last surviving member of a cross-continental drag convoy, is screeching through the Australian outback fighting to stay alive from the horrors trying to end her. Harrison Sweeney is bringing campy terror, drag glamour, and outback chaos together in Final Queen, a show that defies genre. Inspired by everything from classic slasher films to iconic divas, he and co-creator Rachel Kerry have crafted a story on survival, spectacle, and queer joy. We sat down with Sweeney to talk horror, circus theatrics, and what it takes to turn a solo drag performance into a multi-character, gasp-and-giggle extravaganza.

Final Queen wears its cinematic influences proudly on its blood-splattered sleeve, and Sweeney draw on a wide range of horror techniques to shape the show’s look, tone, and scares. "The main influence is The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, one of the original slashers! Indeed the entire subgenre of slasher films was a huge inspiration to us," he tells me. "Rachel and I also looked at Australian outback films like Wolf Creek to help spark ideas. She is a horror guru! Her extensive knowledge of horror films and tropes has been so incredibly helpful in the creation process. We were interested in exploring the Final Girl trope (as referenced in the title), and bringing that to life on stage in a solo show. “Final Girls” like Laurie Strode from Halloween and Ripley from Alien influenced the character of Grace and the story. And we mustn't forget the Scary Movie franchise for some hilarious horror parodies!"