Saturday, 15 August 2026

Cut Chilli review | Darebin Arts Speakeasy

Intercountry adoption is often framed through the language of love, family and giving a child a better life. But beneath those good intentions are complicated issues about identity, culture, belonging and the stories we lose about where we come from. Written by Chenturan Aran, Cut Chilli explores these through Jamie, who was abandoned as a baby in Sri Lanka and raised by his adoptive parents in Western Australia. Now, as an adult, he begins to question the story he has been told about his past, particularly after falling for Zahra, an activist and podcaster.

Early in the play, Jamie makes plans to return to Sri Lanka in search of the parts of his identity that have been missing, with Zahra documenting the journey for her podcast, Decolonising My Boyfriend. What starts as an attempt to uncover the truth about his adoption soon becomes something far more confronting, forcing him to reconsider his relationship with his parents Katherine and Lee, his connection to his birth culture and the foundations on which his family has been built. Cut Chilli places these uncomfortable issues alongside the familiar chaos of family life, where love, tension, humour, and secrets can all occupy the same dinner table.

Directed by Isabella Vadiveloo, the production deliberately sits between comedy and drama, allowing its heavier themes to surface through the messiness of ordinary relationships. Cut Chilli embraces that mess, examining how love can coexist with harm, and how the truth about where we come from can change the way we understand the people who raised us. Vadiveloo handles the play's changes from affectionate banter to moments of conflict without treating either side as incompatible. The comedy gives the characters room to breathe, while also making the more painful revelations hit harder when they arrive.

Indra Liyanaarachchi is excellent as Jamie, capturing a man increasingly caught between the identity he has been given and the one he wants to learn. Liyanaarachchi makes his vulnerability and frustration evident, as he grapples with questions about his past. There are instances, however, when Jamie's shifts from underlying resentment into outright aggression and accusation are abrupt. His feelings are justified, but some of these transitions arrive with little warning, making the escalations more like a dramatic switch than a natural release of emotion. The script could do more to bridge those moments and give his anger a clearer build. Nevertheless, Liyanaarachchi gives Jamie considerable emotional depth that makes his journey compelling to watch.

Anna Kaleeda takes on the role of Zahra, Jamie's politically conscious girlfriend with a strong voice that pushes Jamie to confront the things he might otherwise avoid. She is quick to call out bullshit when she sees it, especially when Jamie's family make their casual racist comments or jokes, making the dinner especially spicy. At times though, Zahra could have used a little more force behind her convictions. Given how politically aware and outspoken the character is meant to be, some of her challenges could have landed with greater impact. A slightly blunter or more forceful approach might have made what Zahra was saying, and the responses it provoked, more connected.

Alexandra Sangster and Soren Jensen lean into the broadness of Jamie's adoptive parents, finding the right humour, while emphasising the specific brand of white Australian obliviousness at the heart of the family. Sangster's Katherine is a free-spirited woman in flowing dresses who struggles to accept why Jamie has mixed feelings about his upbringing. Jensen's Lee, meanwhile, is a politician for whom image is everything, carefully managing how he presents himself and his family while trying to placate the simmering tension.

The performances work quite well when the humour exposes the absurdity of their perspectives. Both actors understand that these characters can be funny without making them likeable, and their treatment helps bring out the awkwardness and contradictions that unfolds over dinner. This is also supported by Ben Grant as Jamie's uncle Jeff, who fits well into the family dynamic while adding another source of awkwardness.

Aran's script packs a great deal into a single evening. At two hours and no interval, there is a lot of drama to unpack as tensions rise and long-held secrets begin to unravel. Aran gives us much to consider without rehashing ideas or moralising, allowing the complexities surrounding identity, adoption and family to emerge naturally through the characters and their relationships.

Most importantly, nobody gets to be entirely right or wrong. Everyone is flawed, and everyone is doing their best, even when those good intentions cause hurt. That makes the conflict more layered and ultimately, more human. Rather than handing us easy answers, the play trusts its audience to sit with the ambiguity and work through them for themselves.

Ishan Vivekanantham's set and costume design places the family firmly within their comfortable privilege. Katherine and Lee's large, spacious dining room is well decorated, with huge windows and subtle details that convey their wealth without making a spectacle of it. Jamie's kurta is an effective costume choice too, reflecting his desire to connect with his cultural heritage and a desire to rebel against his parents.

Cut Chilli is an engaging show that finds plenty of humour in a story filled with a complicated exploration around the ethics of intercountry adoption. Its biggest strength is its refusal to make those questions simple. While some of the more heated arguments could have been better developed, Aran's script and Vadiveloo's direction keep the drama grounded in the chaotic familiarity of family life, giving us a lot to think about. It’s a reminder that families rarely fit neatly into heroes and villains, and love doesn't necessarily erase the harm we can cause each other.

SHOW DETAILS

Venue: Northcote Town Hall, 189 High St, Northcote
Season: Until 23 August | Wed - Fri 7.30pm, Sat 6:30pm, Sun 5pm
Duration: 100 mins
Tickets:
$38 Full | $30 Conc
 
Bookings: Darebin Arts

Images credit: Sarah Walker

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