Homophonic! review | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

It's been 16 years since Homophonic! had its first performance. 16 years of championing and supporting LGBTIQ+ classical art music. So it feels almost criminal to have only just attended my first ever Homophonic! concert. Staged as part of the Midsumma Festival, with a string quintet and percussion, and voices of The Consort of Melbourne, Homophonic! is a vivid and deeply felt celebration of queer experiences, tracing stories of resistance, memory and community while looking toward what lies ahead.

Artistic Director and musician Miranda Hill also takes the role of MC, providing rich context for each of the pieces we are about to hear. Hill exudes a warmth and openness to her introductions, allowing the audience to grasp not only the compositions themselves but the meaning and purpose behind them. This elevates the six performances beyond music, turning them into an experience that resonates emotionally and intellectually, and leaving a real sense of connection with the stories being told.

Final Queen review | Midsumma Festival | Gasworks Arts Park

Final Queen is a drag circus horror comedy one-woman spectacle, which already sounds like a fever dream, but in the hands of creator/performer Harrison Sweeney and co-creator Rachel Kerry, the chaos is controlled, playful, and often very funny. The story follows drag sensation Grace Lightning as she receives the life-changing call that Kylie - yes, THE Kylie - wants her to audition for her world tour. This requires an urgent road trip from Sydney to Darwin, because of course that is where global superstardom begins.

But a road trip isn't a road trip unless you take your besties with you, so naturally Grace’s (expendable) sidekicks, Jax and Kelly, both brought to life by Sweeney through swift wig changes and defined character work. Jax reads as the seasoned drag queen who has seen everything twice, while Kelly is flirtatious, phone-obsessed, and delightfully chaotic. The driving montage neatly sketches each personality with minimal staging, proving how much Sweeney can do with very little, something he accomplishes repeatedly with this production.

Black, Fat and Fa**y review | Midsumma Festival | Chapel Off Chapel

Milo Hartill is black, fat and faggy. Although these not the exact words she would use. But that’s the privilege of existing across three oppressed minority groups. In the cabaret Black, Fat and Fa**y, Hartill takes us through various elements of these communities and what her experiences have been. With a voice like hers though, there are entertaining musical numbers to go with her observations, anecdotes and jokes.

Hartill is dressed in silver boots, white skirt, and a white cropped t-shirt with "Alpha Male" printed along the front in sparkling letters. She wears a denim jacket with "Big Ol' Dyke" on the back. And that’s the constant contest and juxtapositions and blurred lines that she lives on. She performs with a confidence that is loud, proud and unapologetic, commanding the room before she has sung a note.

Afterglow review | Midsumma Festival | Chapel Off Chapel

I remember being in New York in 2018 and taking my seat to see S. Asher Gelman's Afterglow. I remember being intrigued by a story I'd not seen on stage before. And as the play progressed, I remembered being fascinated by the movement, choreography and the honesty that it explored. Fast forward to 2026 where Afterglow gets its Australian premiere at Midsumma Festival, and that intrigue and fascination remains.

Afterglow follows Josh and Alex, a married gay couple whose open relationship is built on love, routine, and the quiet negotiations that come with time. When a one-night stand with a younger man opens the door to new desires and unspoken insecurities, the couple find themselves confronting questions they thought were settled, and what began as an experiment in openness and trust, slowly forces them all to navigate jealousy, vulnerability, and the fear of being replaced.

S A I N T S and the Moral Panic of Witch Trials with Emily Tomlins | La Mama Theatre

Set in an imagined 1653 England on the brink of upheaval, S A I N T S traces friendship, belief, and survival in a world gripped by witch trials, unrest, and political extremism. The story follows Anna Trapnel and her friends as they flee persecution after being accused of witchcraft by the regime they once helped install, navigating a landscape of spies, moral panic, and competing versions of truth. We spoke with co-director and performer Emily Tomlins, about history’s recurring patterns, the push and pull of belief and power, and what it means to perform this at La Mama’s historic Courthouse stage, in a production by Elbow Room’s Marcel Dorney and Tomlins, with Dorney as co-director and writer.

Robert the Octopus review | Midsumma Festival | Brunswick Mechanics Institute

In Robert the Octopus, Sadie has a crush on a co-worker but thanks to the modern world, their interactions are solely online and via Zoom meetings. In an attempt to gain her co-worker’s attention, Sadie buys a pet octopus named Robert. Eventually, it's enough to lure Georgia over to visit and from there, things begin to get ridiculously complicated as Sadie seeks advice from Robert on what to do next.

Queer emerging writer Alex Duncan has previously shown promise for highlighting the absurdities within the mundane with his work Rakali, but this outing could benefit from further development. What in theory could have been a fascinating narrative, in practice is a script that is light on substance and plot progression. The exchanges between characters are rudimentary and missing a spark, and while there are hints at humour, it rarely builds tension or generates laughs. At one point, it looks like the play is going to go somewhere regarding power and control and who has it, but that concept wraps up shortly after it is introduced.

The Placeholder review | Midsumma Festival | fortyfivedownstairs

In The Placeholder, Ben MacEllen delivers a heartfelt kitchen-sink drama set in a regional town, exploring friendship, identity, and the realities of life within a tight-knit group of women. As they navigate the death of a friend and the transitioning of another, the characters grapple with love, loss, and change - all unfolding in the intimate space of Pat’s kitchen. The production combines humour, emotional depth, and quiet poignancy, capturing the joys, conflicts, and complexities of relationships as they play out in this well-worn domestic setting.

MacEllen has crafted a very personal narrative, full of drama and heart. While the show centres on Nic’s transitioning, we also witness cancer battles, marriages, separations, funerals, and other surprises, yet it is never overstuffed. MacEllen features plenty of discussions on LGBTQ+ issues like marriage equality and transgender experiences, but it does not come across like an overt lesson. Instead, we are made privy to these unfolding naturally within Pat’s household.



Australian Open review | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

Australian Open centres on Felix, a happily partnered, newly turned 31-year-old gay man navigating an open relationship with Lucas, an “elite athlete” in the world of professional tennis. Amidst Australian Open fever, Felix finds himself having drinks with Lucas, and his parents, Belinda and Peter, a situation he would rather avoid, but cannot. What begins as a polite social obligation quickly unfolds into an awkward and revealing discussion about love, relationships, and identity; one that forces them all to confront not only each other, but themselves while serving plenty of laughs along the way.

Eddie Orton is captivating as Lucas, an arrogant, driven, and painfully self-assured presence that is played with slick confidence, but allows for  glimpses of genuine tenderness and affection to surface. Sebastian Li provides an excellent counterbalance as the anxious Felix, whose energy contrasts neatly with Lucas’s certainty. While Felix is comfortable in an open relationship with Lucas, he visibly bristles at the prospect of his parents exploring their own relationship, a tension Li handles with hilarious restraint.

Peter Pan: A Twinkle in Time review | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

What happens when the boy who doesn’t grow up… grows up? When the twink is no longer a twink? In Peter Pan: A Twinkle in Time, Dean Robinson explores what it means when the identity you’ve carefully carved out for yourself begins to shift, beyond your control.

Peter Pan has been blissfully living in Neverland, venturing into the real world only once a decade. But in 2026, something has happened...Peter has aged and lost his twink status. In denial, he tries to cling to it by bleaching his hair, wearing tight, skimpy clothing, and removing all his body hair. There’s also a quest to find a new “fag hag,” featuring two volunteers battling it out in a game-show style challenge that gets the whole audience joining in.

I’m Only Dating These Men... review | Midsumma Festival | Theatre Works

Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t find love. Or so we’re told at the beginning of one of the longest show titles in recent memory, I’m Only Dating These Men Because My Uncle Bequeathed Me Money and I Need to Get Married By the End of the Year. It is a title with many other, far simpler options available to it, but its unwieldy length neatly encapsulates the creative instincts of Luke Costabile and Trent Cliffe. Why be straightforward or predictable when you can be random and eccentric. That same philosophy underpins this musical comedy about love, for better or worse.

Costabile plays Larry, a veterinarian who discovers he will lose his inheritance of $946,000 unless he is married by the end of the year. What’s a gay to do? Get married of course. Easier said than done, particularly when faced with a parade of strange and often alarming potential partners, all of whom are played by Cliffe.

The Pole Shebang review | Midsumma Festival | The MC Showroom

Andrea James Lui has been pole dancing for over a decade. In The Pole Shebang, they take the audience behind the glitz and glamour of the craft as they prepare to compete in the Ms Pole Dancing World Championships. It is a moment of high stakes, a chance to showcase the full extent of their skill and to be watched on a global stage.

But, as Lui shares, the road to this opportunity has been far from smooth. They speak candidly about the isolating nature of pole dancing and the personal toll of committing to an art form that is generally practiced alone. Layered into this are the internal tensions of the practice itself, including debates around presentation, standards, and the contentious politics of heels.

Duck Pond review | Princess Theatre

Circa return to Melbourne with Duck Pond, a reimagining that fuses two timeless tales, Swan Lake and The Ugly Duckling. In the former, a cursed princess trapped in a swan’s body finds love with a prince, only for deception and obsession to lead to tragedy. In the latter, an outcast mocked for his difference endures cruelty and loneliness before discovering he was a swan all along. These parallel narratives form the backbone of Duck Pond, a production that uses circus as both spectacle and storytelling.

Acrobatics are seamlessly integrated into the plot, with silk routines, lifts, throws, and balances doing as much narrative work as the text itself. Through its movement, the show connects Swan Lake and The Ugly Duckling around ideas of flight, vulnerability, and transformation. The tossing, jumping, carrying, and leaping are shaped by the journeys of the Black Swan and the Duckling rather than circus grandness for its own sake.

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.