Saturday, 27 June 2026

Losing Face review | Melbourne Theatre Company

If you're not already being sold the promise of a younger, healthier and more optimised version of yourself, you're probably not paying attention. From wellness resorts and cosmetic procedures to the endless pursuit of self-improvement, ageing gracefully, or better yet, not at all, has become an industry in itself. In the comedy Losing Face, Marieke Hardy sets her sights on that fixation, exploring the impossible standards placed on women and the lengths they're encouraged to go for perfection. 

The show gets off to a promising start with three friends, Jo, Simone, and Lauren (Michala Banas, Madeleine Sami and Christie Whelan Browne), attending The Royal You resort to celebrate Jo's 50th birthday. Conversations around dating, marriage, children and body image naturally emerge, while subtle tensions simmer between the women, who have not seen each other for five years. Hardy establishes a grounded dynamic that hints at the different paths their lives have taken and the insecurities that have accumulated along the way.

However, once the resort's guru Tomas is introduced, these ideas are largely abandoned in favour of escalating gags and increasingly broad performances that are no longer rooted in the reality created by Jo, Simone, and Lauren. While the trio are intentionally portrayed as fish out of water, they grow markedly more foolish, and the script never convincingly explains why. Their decisions become dictated by the comedy rather than by character development.

A third act revelation by Jo is also jarringly misplaced. The play spends much of its time delving into their relationships with each other, and with ageing, only for Jo's storyline to culminate in a twist that is disconnected from the set-up. Instead of expanding its examination of the pressures women face throughout their lives, it disregards that thread, diluting the social commentary it had worked to build.

The cast are uniformly strong, with Banas, Sami and Whelan Browne sharing an easy chemistry that makes the history between these long-time friends immediately believable. They inhabit their characters with confidence, finding distinct rhythms and vulnerabilities that make their interactions authentic, even as the narrative pushes them into progressively heightened territory. Whelan Browne fully commits to Lauren's frazzled, overworked persona, although the character's insistence that she's barely holding it together sits slightly at odds with how impeccably put-together she is. It's a minor disconnect in an otherwise engaging set of performances. 

Wil King chews the scenery as Tomas, embracing his flamboyant eccentricities with gusto, but the role eventually becomes so exaggerated that it loses any sense of realism, turning Tomas into a one-note comic creation. Genevieve Morris is a standout as the Nurse, effortlessly balancing the resort's absurd world with the anchored perspective of the women. Her impeccable comedic timing and ability to navigate both realities make her appearance a highlight.

Jo Briscoe's revolving set is cleverly utilised, seamlessly shifting between the women's bedroom and the resort's communal spaces. Small details, from the cumbersome relaxation chair to the ice bath patio, help define the resort's obsession with wellness, with the dense foliage growing over the stage suggesting a secluded sanctuary. Although the script undermines that isolation by allowing the women to casually head out to bars and fast-food restaurants, the design itself maintains a calming serenity that provides an effective contrast to the chaos unfolding within it.

Losing Face
is buoyed by a committed cast and an intriguing premise that taps into the relentless pressure on women to chase youth. Yet while Hardy begins with plenty to say about those unrealistic expectations, the play ultimately settles for absurdity over insight. There are enough laughs to make the journey enjoyable, but it's difficult not to leave wishing the production had trusted the strength of its ideas as much as its comedy.

SHOW DETAILS

Venue: Southbank Theatre, 140 Southbank Blvd, Southbank
Season:
until 25 July | Mon - Tues 6:30pm, Wed - Sat 7:30pm, Sat 2pm
Duration:

 105 minutes
Tickets:
 $49 - $120
Bookings: Melbourne Theatre Company

Images credit: Pia Johnson

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