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.