I Am Seaweed review | Melbourne Fringe Festival | Theatre Works

It always seems like a badge of honour when someone asks you how you are and respond with "I am so busy". Working hard, learning a new craft, up-skilling, upselling, educating yourself. Constantly moving and doing. In I Am Seaweed, Cheryl Ho contemplates what it would feel like to just be and enjoy what is.

Sheryl with an S - played by Cheryl with a C – is a teacher who thinks that by being busy she will find satisfaction in life. By being like seaweed, something that expands under pressure, her super zestful positive attitude and her "Slay Everyday Era" mantra, she's sure she can.

While only a portion of the space at Theatre Woks is utilised, director Tan Hui Er keeps the full stage open and visible. The black, empty areas serve as a reminder of what Sheryl is trying to avoid as well as offering a visual representation of what's happening in her mind with her thoughts projected as images along the wall.

2:20am review

2:20am is a new Australian play by award winning playwright Rebecca Lister on the aftermath of suicide and how those closest to a person who has suicided, attempt to move on with their own lives. Drawing from her own personal experience with a family member who committed suicide, as well as a series of interviews conducted with those bereaved by it, 2:20am is an affecting story of mourning, acceptance, resilience and hope. 

In 2:20am, a group of people who have all had a family member commit suicide, come together in a writing workshop in their efforts to heal from the hurt and the emptiness, and to face the reality of their circumstances. There is some strong work from the talented ensemble, Izabella Yena, Joanne Davis, Michael Treloar and Zoe Ellerton-Ashley, as they build authentic relationships between their characters from their initial introductions until their "graduation". I've only seen Yena on stage a handful of times, but each time I do, her performances have been a highlight of the show with the freshness and energy that she brings, and I just don't know why we are not seeing more of her.

Hands Over Eyes review

There were times while watching Hands Over Eyes that I felt like I was watching a live episode of Black Mirror, a TV series that looks at how our over-reliance on technology can have far darker consequences than we could have imagined. Presented as part of La Mama Theatre Explorations season for work in various stages of development Peter Danastasio's Hands Over Eyes raises discussion on perceptions of truth and honesty and how the impact this can have on people.

Danny Carroll plays Paul Havour, a conversationalist who works for a company that conducts simulated experience sessions to assist patients with their past traumas or phobic treatments. Through the course of the week he begins to question his beliefs and work ethics while attempting to assist his patients with treatments he finds troubling.

Shining City review

The effects of grief and guilt are hauntingly explored in Q44 Theatre's latest production of Conor McPherson's Shining City. Set in Dublin, the story revolves around a therapist and his patient, each with his own set of demons to face, and it's another example of the exemplary work on which this theatre company is building its reputation.

Anthony Scundi is exceptional as Ian, an ex-priest struggling with his loss of faith who has just opened up a therapy clinic. While initially coming across as someone who has his life in order, the ensuing scenes paint a picture of a man who is gradually unraveling. Scundi is well-paired with Sebastian Gunner as John, his new patient and the rapport they share feels genuine. Gunner nails a lengthy monologue that requires him to find the right balance of a range of emotions as he recount the events leading up to the death of his wife.

Isolation Pod Floating

Entering Gravity Floatation Centre was almost like entering a different world. The waiting area is empty save for some chairs, a glass coffee table and some plants mounted on to the wall. There is some soft, calming music playing and as I wait to be called, and I start feeling nervous at the thought of being in a small pod in utter darkness and silence. Will the anxiety I often experience heighten? Will I have a panic attack in the pod? Will the lid get stuck and not open? I've seen Final Destination; death always finds a way. Before I can let my mind race any further (if that is even possible at this point), I am called. I enter the Endeavour room, all six rooms at the centre are identical, but they are named after 6 NASA space shuttles.

It's a private room with the pod and a shower. Earplugs, body soap, shampoo and towels are provided. The room temperature water and a highly concentrated Epsom salt solution (600kg of magnesium sulphate) are ready for me. The water is filtered and treated after every use and regularly tested by third parties. The pod has two buttons, a blue one to light up the pod in case I prefer it to the darkness, and a red one in case of emergency. I am also provided with a floating neck pillow and a spray bottle of water in case I get any of the Epsom salts in my eyes, which I'm thankful for after absent-mindedly having rubbed my eyes twice.

I Might Take My Shirt Off review

Every now and again, there is a show that is so clever, so witty, so painful, so funny, so daring and so much more than you thought you were getting in to. Dash Kruck's cabaret show, I Might Take My Shirt Off, is a prime example of this.

Kruck plays Lionel, a man who is struggling to accept that the love of his life has left him. To be perfectly honest, he's a heartbroken mess, and with the stern advice of his frightening German therapist who orders him to go out and express himself, Lionel ends up performing in his very own cabaret performance.