Popcorn Popped Off!

Popcorn

Popcorn Rating

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Popcorn is a satirical black comedy by Ben Elton that proudly makes social commentary while generating many laughs. Directed by Aaron Evans, this production elevated the cynical lens through which we view Hollywood, with inclusions that maximised the laugh factor.

Set in the 90s, we follow the Mall murderers Wayne and Scout as they commit a home invasion of a famous director whose movies mirror their crimes. Tensions escalate and the debate is had, who is responsible for inciting violence, is it the movies that aggrandise it in the first place? With a 90s video rental store inspired set, and soundtrack to match we are easily transported back in time.

Masterful direction meant that the sexual content and violence was handled in a mature and modest way that did not compromise the meaning of the play, or cause extra discomfort for the audience. However, this was in no way an easy ride with tough questions being asked and moments of shock surprising all.

Brittany Bell played the leading role of Scout, the ditzy fun-loving killer girlfriend of the crime couple. Her performance shone through, bringing moments of vulnerability and heartbreak when Wayne (Her Boyfriend) manipulated and controlled her. She also displayed fantastic range, showing us her viciousness when taking control of the situation, and also often providing comedic relief. Bell’s performance was the stand out of the production and she should be highly commended.

Jack Barret brought much energy to the stage in the role of Wayne, commanding the room with intensity. Jack’s take on the character was more aloof and angry than menacing but had great commitment to the role. Michael Civitano played Bruce Delamitri, a Quentin Tarantino like director. Michael brought large amounts of enthusiasm to the stage, often conveying the incredible frustration felt by being the ‘man in the spotlight’. Jason Nash and Robin Vary played well off the cast and had fantastic characterisation in their supporting roles.

Vicki Dwyer breezed through her role as Farrah, the drug-addled soon ex-wife of Bruce. She was excellent, and had great energy which was all channeled into upholding the drunken and selfish personality of her character. The cast generally had a very energetic performance, and great characterisation.

The use of lighting was fantastic, allowing us to flow in and out of news reports, tv segments and drug fueled raves in the mansion with creative use of spots, RGB and blackout. The costume design should be commended for really individualizing each character with a unique style while remaining period accurate.

Overall the performance was well polished and the enthusiasm from the cast was palpable. In the future it would be lovely to see a push for character depth over archetypes in the staging of more black comedies at Ipswich Little Theatre, and the continuity of focus on comedy as this was done well. The entire cast and crew should be commended on a successful show.

This review also appears on It’s On The House. Check out more reviews at Whats The Show to see what else is on in your town.

Every Note Speaks What Words Can’t

No Love Songs

No Love Songs Rating

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What is it about a love song? It awakens something in us we can’t put into words. Love is the ultimate subject—it defines us, moves us, and makes us count. It comes in many forms, each as complex and transformative as the next.

Through bold storytelling and evocative melodies, No Love Songs swiftly shifts from the thrill of a new love to the profound, painful reality of losing yourself within it. Overflowing with enormous compassion and warmth, it delves into the raw intricacies of identity, relationships, and loss.

Inspired by the real-life experiences of co-writers Laura Wilde and her partner Kyle Falconer, the show draws from Falconer’s second solo album, No Love Songs for Laura (2021). Co-written by Johnny McKnight, delves into the relationship dynamics between Lana, a new mother, and Jessie, a songwriter at a crossroads. Beyond exploring career ambitions and new parenthood, it fearlessly addresses the often-unspoken challenges of postnatal depression. While this may seem like a confronting topic (and it is) the show’s heartfelt authenticity and humour make it both engaging and ultimately hopeful.

The success of this show hinges on the power and skill of its two actors, who bring a deeply personal journey to life through a duologue of contrasting perspectives that navigates the complexities of parenthood. Through soliloquies and inner monologues, the audience gains insight into their internal struggles, highlighting the deep yet often amusing gap between what they feel and what they express.

An undeniable spark lit up the stage whenever Keegan Joyce and Lucy Maunder performed together. Opposites truly attract—Joyce’s self-effacing, endearing charisma perfectly complemented Maunder’s bold, brassy power. Both hit every note effortlessly, their palpable chemistry making each moment feel relatable and electric, leaving me to wonder if they were a couple in real life.

The Foundry is the perfect new space for this inaugural musical – intimate enough to capture moments of stillness, yet expansive enough for the vocals to soar. The minimal yet impactful musical accompaniment—guitar, keyboard, and percussion—acts as the third character, subtly deepening the emotional layers of the story without overshadowing the intimate moments. The songs were catchy, not Top 40 hits, but expertly crafted to integrate and enhance the narrative. At times, the atmosphere strayed into rock opera territory, amplifying the intensity but there were also poignant, quieter moments that could have been pared down just a bit to sustain the overall momentum of the performance.

What stood out most was that Lana and Jessie felt like real people, pouring out their hearts, songs, and stories while stumbling through a world full of challenges beyond anyone’s full understanding or control. Their dynamic felt less like a performance and more like a confession.

As the audience shuffled out, an elderly gentleman turned to me—a complete stranger—his voice heavy with emotion, and said, “I now understand what my mother went through.” I paused, absorbing the weight of his words, and replied, “Me too.” At that moment, it became clear why Wilde and Falconer wrote this show.

Postpartum depression remained a taboo topic until the late 20th century, with stigma lingering despite growing awareness in the 2000s. This story has rarely been told publicly – let alone shared on stage- but it resonates powerfully across generations. By sharing these deeply personal experiences, we help others, and ourselves, to connect, heal, and feel less alone. When there is no villain, no antagonist, no clear balance – sometimes, that makes both life and theatre equally difficult and beautiful.

This is not your usual escapist musical filled with hearts and roses. It’s an aching, engrossing love letter to the messy, wonderful, awful chaos of being human. Great stories unravel hearts and open minds. Raw, cathartic, and unflinchingly authentic, No Love Songs delivers just that.

No Love Songs is on tour around the country. For date/time sessions for your local area and to book tickets to No Love Songs, please visit https://www.nolovesongs.com.au/.

This review also appears on It’s On The House. Check out more reviews at Whats The Show to see what else is on in your town.

Maori Mini Film Festival: Marahoro

Marahoro

Marahoro Rating

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On the island of Rapa-Nui, teenager Marahoro is not only in the midst of his transition from boy to man, but embarking on an exploration of his relationship with his heritage and culture. This 2024 short-film, directed and written by Sofia Rodriguez Pizero, explores generational tensions, the conflict of duty and desire, and what it means to embrace oneself completely.

Poike Tuki Mejia stars as the film’s lead and does so much justice to the position Marahoro is in. He’s young, but craving freedom and adventure. This places him in opposition to his father Tu’umaheke, played by Aka-hanga Rapu Tuki, a cultural leader who directs the Mana Ma’ohi Ensemble (which is a real cultural performance group, for those interested in travelling to Rapa Nui to visit!).

Tu’umaheke strives for excellence. His passion and appreciation for their heritage manifest in his high demands of the ensemble. Young men exert their energy, but do not move in their dance properly. Women perfect their dances, but then fail to sing loudly enough. Even the drummers, some of them Tu’umaheke’s seniors in age, face his wrath. For all the ferocity Tu’umeheke musters, there is no doubt that he motivates his group.

 

But this does not come without a cost. Marahoro, a member of the ensemble, struggles with his father’s methods of cultural preservation. Whether it’s through placing stress on his dance group, demanding Marahoro spend more time practicing cultural movements, or by limiting his opportunities to see his friends, Mejia beautifully conveys the strained relationship many young men experience as they begin to question trusted, but disciplined, authority guiding them verse the ever-growing desire for autonomy, freedom and sensory pleasure.

The audience can be grateful that Marahoro offers a form of sensory pleasure as well. Pizero’s direction leads to commendable, deeply emotional acting. The working partnership between Pizero and cinematographer Fred Renata ensures that each frame of the film highlights either the intimacy of emotions in the characters, the richness and depth of cultural traditions, or the raw wonders of nature on the island. The film is clear and crisp in its camerawork, with a delightful vibrancy of colour throughout. With Mana Ma’ohi musicians and dancers taking part in the film, it’s beautiful and inspiring to witness several performances of song and dance.

Throughout the film, Marahoro yearns to spend time with his friends. A skilled surfer, Marahoro must compromise his time with his friends and in the water to sing and dance about swimming with turtles with the cultural group under the strict supervision of his father. Marahoro’s cautious attempts to question further the conflict between him and his father. While they both have the same love for their ancestors and, deep down, are driven to preserve and share their legacy, their alternative means of doing so threaten to drive them apart.

Marahoro must learn to be a leader. But is the only way to do so by following his father, or can he find a way to balance his youthful spirit with his own admiration of the land and its people?

To book tickets to the Maori Land Mini Film Festival, please visit https://www.bunjilplace.com.au/events/maoriland-film-festival

This review also appears on It’s On The House. Check out more reviews at Whats The Show to see what else is on in your town.

Playthings: by Sun and Wine Arts Company

Playthings

Playthings Rating

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“Ah, high school—the land of hovering hormones, questionable life choices, and the endless pursuit of social status”.

Brisbane-based Sun and Wine Arts Company recently showcased “Playthings” by Perth-based writer and director Scott McArdle. Raw and unapologetic, Playthings is the story of young teens Lucy and Arnold as they navigate the turbulent reckoning of adolescence. Director and producer Hamish Chappell ensures the heavy subject matter is handled with sensitivity and authenticity.

Rose Swanepoel as Lucy and Dylan Komoff as Arnold play starkly different personalities, yet their vulnerabilities forge an unlikely friendship as they navigate high school and home life.

Rose’s Lucy was endearingly abrasive—her irreverent outbursts morphing seamlessly into moments of unexpected comic relief. She swaggered around the stage with such boldness, you could almost feel her inner turmoil stifling her.

In contrast, Dylan fully inhabits Arnold’s awkward, nerdy persona. His hunched posture, fidgety mannerisms and shuffling stance captured the essence of a teen desperate to have his moment to break loose and hold his ground.

The undeniable connection between the two was very evident to the audience as their shared vulnerabilities brought them together in moments of brutal honesty.

Supporting actors Laura Renee, as teacher Miss Richards and Ben Kasper as Stepfather Rhys, gave context to the story, anchoring it in the structure of school and home life. Yet they each carried their own struggles and past experiences, which added depth to the narrative and complemented the main cast beautifully.

Laura brought a grounded energy to her role as Miss Richards, grappling with her past while showing compassion and kindness towards Arnold, guiding him through an emotional experience. Ben’s Rhys was exceptional as the stepdad eager to connect and trying his utmost to alleviate his strained relationship with Lucy.

Visually, the production used simple sets and subtle lighting switches. This kept the focus on Lucy and Arnold’s stories while also adding a sense of intimacy to the play.

A standout moment for me and a line that loops back to a theme expressed earlier in the play: “Life sucks, Arnold, and people are f#@ked, but you don’t suck!” Resonating with the audience, this statement served to pare back the connection and unspoken understanding between Lucy and Arnold.

Playthings unapologetically peels back the layers of adolescence, the chaos, struggles and the unlikely friendships that make it all bearable.

To learn more about Sun And Wine Arts please visit https://sunwinearts.wixsite.com/sun-and-wine-arts-co

This review also appears on It’s On The House. Check out more reviews at Whats The Show to see what else is on in your town.