Beyond The Neck review | Theatre Works

In Beyond the Neck, Tom Holloway’s raw and unflinching script brings four strangers together in the shadow of tragedy, each carrying their own pain. As their paths cross, the play quietly unravels how trauma lingers, how memory presses in, and how people navigate the fragile spaces between loss and connection. Set in the aftermath of the Port Arthur massacre, one of Australia’s darkest tragedies, the play traces how the echoes of violence ripple through ordinary lives, shaping the way people remember, mourn, and try to move forward.

The characters are all coping with grief in different, haunting ways. The Boy embodies disturbing tendencies; The Teenage Girl channels fear into obsession and speculation; The Young Mother and Wife carries memories she can’t let go; and The Old Man, a survivor of the massacre, bears the lingering impact of what he witnessed, giving the audience an intimate view of loss.

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.

Crisis Actor review | Arts House

The performance space for Crisis Actor would be pitch black if not for dozens of phones lighting up the room. A cardinal sin in theatre etiquette: a glowing smartphone in the dark. Except here, it’s the point. In this interactive work, audience members are not just permitted, but encouraged to participate and engage with their devices, using them to swipe, click and scroll deeper into the unfolding chaos.

The show begins with the audience gathered around a large, ominously illuminated flower sculpture. Events leading up to a disaster impacting the world are recounted by an anonymous narrator and displayed on four screens surrounding the sculpture. Periodically, the narrator pauses mid-sentence, and options appear on our phones for us to select. These selections then pop up on the screens. They don’t change the story about this Flower Attack, but they help build the illusion of a communal experience, where we feel involved even if we’re not steering the narrative.

Golden Blood review | Melbourne Theatre Company | Arts Centre Melbourne

In Golden Blood, a 14-year-old girl is left under the care of her 21-year-old brother, whom she hasn't seen for seven years, after the death of her mother. Through him, she is introduced to the world of gangs, drugs and violence, and it isn't long until this begins to enter the sanctuary of her home and changes the way she remembers her life before she became an orphan.

Merlynn Tong's performance as Girl is quite impressive given that we first see the character at 14 and watch as she grows into a 21-year-old woman. Her physicality, facial expressions and language is authentic and she perfectly captures the innocence of a child and the gradual erosion of that as she faces the harsh realities of life. Charles Wu as Boy delivers an equally remarkable turn as he presents himself with youthful bravado while allowing flashes of vulnerability to emerge as the trauma of his childhood becomes impossible to hide. The two make an exceptional pair and the brother-sister bond (or lack off) is easily established and deepened during the show.

The Bisexual's Lament review | Lou Wall | Melbourne International Comedy Festival | ACMI

The Queen of the PowerPoint Presentations returns to Melbourne for their new show, The Bisexual's Lament, where Lou Wall covers the hectic last twelve months they have experienced. Some of it is horrific and traumatic but to get through it, Wall has made a list - they love lists! - of all the things that made them happy in the last 12 months. It's over 800 items so fortunately Wall has whittled it down to a reasonable 69.

Wall's traumatic year includes breaking up with their partner, which happened to also be their first break up, and sleeping with straight men, and that's not even the worst of it. The focus of the show is with Wall struggling to speed up the process of "comedy equals tragedy plus time" and while there is plenty of comedy for the audience, Wall allows for a more vulnerable and intimate side of themselves to be on display.

Every Lovely Terrible Thing review | Theatre Works

We all love a bit of family drama and conflict don't we? Well the Coleman household certainly do. In Adam Fawcett's Every Lovely Terrible Thing, we are introduced to six members of the one family across three generations. Over the course of several months, tensions escalate and secrets are revealed that will shatter the fragile domestic unit that they are all living under.

The ensemble confidently find their footing with their characters and deliver some very natural performances. Wil King is fascinating as Cooper, the youngest of the Colemans. Struggling with their own identity while also having to constantly deal with their father's constant beratement, a chance encounter with local tradie Lachie, sets them on a path that they may not be ready to face. Lyall Brooks and Sharon Davis are a formidable pairing that are required to do most of the heavy lifting as bickering twins Charles and Britta where each harbours their own pain, shame and regrets. Its testament to the skills the cast have that they can make us care for these people despite the fact they are not easily likeable figures.

Jupiter Orbiting - Next Wave Festival review

As you enter Jupiter Orbiting, creator and performer Joshua Pether is nervously decorating a table with Lego blocks, coloured paper and animal figurines. It feels like we are watching the preparation of a child's party, however with the rest of the stage empty and dark, there is trepidation in the air.

Using a science fiction narrative, this performative piece explores childhood trauma and grief, which Pether juxtaposes with scenes that are equally representative of innocence and naivety. From a distance, the coloured pieces of paper used at the beginning of the show resemble crushed origami cranes, a symbol of hope.  There's even contradiction in its title, alluding to the 12 years it takes for Jupiter to complete its orbital period. This could easily be the age that Pether is portraying, one that is full of liveliness and zest, yet the planet itself is desolate and void of any life.