Do you need an emotional rollercoaster of a show that will make you laugh and cry and then, upon further thought, inevitably question all of your actions as possibly neurodivergent?
Yeah, neither did I, and yet I find myself wanting to go back for more!
Upon entering the theatre (and having no previous knowledge of Colin Ebsworth, my assumptions were a comedy show with probable laughs and maybe some relatable content. Little did I know that I would be crying both from laughter and sadness by the end.
Ebsworth is (in short) an insanely talented comedian and wordsmith who managed to convey so many different emotions of relatability, anguish, confusion, satire, wittiness and much more as we are walked through his experience as a neurodivergent child. As someone who has Autism (of which there is a lot of cross-over with ADHD), I found it refreshing to find someone who had some of the same issues as me growing up and was able to articulate it accurately.
All whilst sitting on a stool on a stage in a spotlight with a remote and a few lagers.
I also genuinely enjoyed the creative use of both vocal effects and music to enhance the story. And so did the audience! I took my best friend (who is ADHD incarnate) with me and her reactions were vivid and similar to mine. As were the rest of the attendees. We all gasped together, laughed together and felt deeply together. It is no mean feat to be able to create an atmosphere where everyone is invested both individually and as a collective audience.
This show is so important not just for those that are neurodivergent, but also for those that have neurodivergent individuals in their life. It’s content of this show will only continue to become more and more valuable as time goes on.
So, even though this show for Melbourne Fringe is sold out, I would unquestionably recommend that you keep an eye out for Colin Ebsworth and any of his future shows. I cannot wait to see what he comes up with next and will be attending prepared to feel the full range of emotions next time!
Exuding colour, light, and all things sublime, Finucane & Smith’s ‘Global Smash Club’ celebrates its 20th anniversary exactly as it came into the world: with a glorious bang.
Opening night at Trades Hall saw the ETU Ballroom bursting with talent, as icons of Melbourne’s art and theatre scene took to the stage for an hour of cabaret, spectacle, and daring subversion. At the helm, Moira Finucane – Fringe legend and co-creator of the original ‘Burlesque Hour’ – isn’t one to shy away from making a mess. Her performances tore through the boundaries of convention with wild abandon and dubious liquids, stirring the pot in ways that left the crowd gasping for more (and more and more).
Performance art legend Maude Davey transformed the ballroom into a high-voltage dive bar with powerhouse vocals, off-the-charts energy, and a healthy side of rock and roll. Her cheeky acts blended classic burlesque with a contemporary edge, and were just so cool (seriously, Aussie-BBQ-meets-showgirl should be compulsory viewing).
Yumi Umiumare, the undisputed goddess of dark fever dreams, served up her signature whiplash concoction of surreal dance, twisted comedy, and Butoh, luring the crowd to the edge of reality with spellbinding intensity. The way her intricate costumes moved and flowed under her precise control was as hypnotic as it was impressive.
Sharing the stage with these powerful headliners was a dazzling ensemble of stars. Unforgettable performances from Mama Alto, Piera Dennerstein, Imogen Kelly, Zitao Deng, and Xiao Xiao suspended the crowd between moments of breathless awe and unbridled laughter. The evening’s magic was punctuated by a special appearance from Yorta Yorta Taungurung Wiradjuri elder and artist Glennys Briggs and country musician Ian Muir. With live music and art filling every corner, the show was an all-encompassing, neon-drenched seduction of the senses.
What makes ‘Global Smash Club’ truly irresistible, however, is the bold individuality of its performers. Each act overflows with personality, effortlessly balancing artistic expression and unhinged absurdity. If you’ve got a good sense of humour and don’t mind a bit of provocation, this will do you just fine. As for me, the odd fish that I am, I felt right at home in the chaos – though it still got a few dropped jaws out of me! By the end, I left no less than obsessed and hopelessly in love with the beautiful madness of it all.
‘Global Smash Club’ has everything you never knew you needed – cabaret, karaoke, the possessed demonic spirit of Hello Kitty. It’s a lucky dip of performance art that can’t be pinned down, and you either get with it or get left behind. Defying reason and transcending both genre and gender, this show asks: why be normal when you can be gloriously indecent instead? It’s cheeky, saucy, and it’ll leave you soaking wet (literally).
As a passionate farewell to this year’s Melbourne’s Fringe Festival, ‘Global Smash Club’ is more than just a show; it’s a sweaty, sexy homage to a powerful movement that refuses to simply survive – it thrives in all its naked glory. Catch it this weekend only at Trades Hall – satisfaction guaranteed.
For further information on Finucane & Smith, please check out: https://www.finucaneandsmith.com/
The opening of Comandante felt like a perfume ad for one of the big Italian fashion houses—a Dolce & Gabbana or Prada. A young woman in a 1940s dress looks longingly through a window. Her voiceover, while not saying much of consequence, gives the scene an elegance that got me interested to keep watching. The camera filter gives off the effect of that old Hollywood trick of Vaseline on the lens for that soft focus.
Comandante – translates to The Commander. There is nothing commanding about this film whatsoever. Okay, so we’re watching a war film. I got it. There is an Italian man now in the picture, in a singlet looking a little worse for wear. He looks troubled, and we see this is the case after some dialogue between the two characters. But then nothing happens. I was left waiting for nearly two hours. Can something happen?? The women farewell their men as they depart on a submarine to join the war effort. Okay, but nothing happens.
Comandante gave me Dunkirk vibes; that is to say, a picture featuring a lot of pretty boys, well men, and a few well-trodden older men stuck together under the sea. It is a film that tries to give us the real deal by showing lots of untidy chest hair and soft bodies. I was very aware that I was watching actors playing pretend, albeit non-glamorised, like Dunkirk.
I kept watching, waiting for something interesting to happen—a plot line, an intriguing character, anything! And then I realised something wasn’t going to happen.
The main protagonist, Captain Salvatore Todaro (Pier Francesco Favino), is a rugged-looking man with a steely presence and an incongruous penchant for lyrical turns of phrase. And yet, he is oh so dull.
The only different thing that woke me up was a funny sequence where the Belgians teach the Italians how to make chips. With that being my only memorable takeaway from this film, I think it’s clear to say I was not enamoured.
Comandante was made in collaboration with the Italian navy, who Comandante is for, a whimsical love letter to life on the sea perhaps? I felt guilty zoning out, but I can’t pretend to be interested in a film that may have good intentions and most probably has an audience somewhere. It felt like a film for my dad to watch on a quiet Sunday afternoon and probably fall asleep to.
I was very surprised when I read that Comandante opened the Venice Film Festival in 2023 after Challengers, starring Zendaya dropped out. It’s not surprising, I suppose, as Comandante could be sold as a story about Italian pride and their role in the Second World War, therefore making it ideal for the Venice Film Festival.
But there is nothing groundbreaking or emotionally charged about this film. It seriously falls short.
The phrase “cost of living” has been in the headlines for months, typically evoking the daily grind of bills and inflation. However, Cost of Living, staged by the Melbourne Theatre Company, takes this notion far beyond the material to explore what it truly costs to stay alive in emotional, psychological, and social terms. This profound play, directed by Anthea Williams, dives deeply into the human condition, unveiling our universal need for connection, love, and vulnerability.
The cast features Rachel Edmonds as Ani, Aaron Pedersen as Eddie, Mabel Li as Jess, and Oli Pizzey Stratford as John. Each character brings a unique perspective on life’s challenges, offering a rich tapestry of experiences woven together by a common thread: the need for connection. Despite their differences in race, class, and physical ability, each character is driven by an almost primal need not to be alone, and the play skillfully portrays how connection can develop from unexpected circumstances.
Powerful Performances: Characters Brought to Life The play revolves around two distinct relationships shaped by circumstances and necessity. The first is between Ani, who is quadriplegic after a traumatic accident, and her estranged ex-husband Eddie, a truck driver struggling with guilt and a broken heart. Rachel Edmonds delivers a raw, deeply moving performance as Ani, capturing her desperation to cling to independence despite her circumstances. Aaron Pedersen, as Eddie, is poetic and tender; his vulnerability and deep love for Ani are revealed as the play progresses. Initially, under the guise of a financial and historical connection, their interactions evolve into something much deeper and more human. The complexity of their relationship is palpable, and their reconnection, though tinged with sadness, is beautiful.
The second pairing is between Jess, a student and caregiver, and John, a wealthy man with cerebral palsy. Mabel Li plays Jess with a nuanced mix of warmth and steely resolve as she navigates the world alone and fights to be seen in a society that often overlooks her. Oli Pizzey Stratford, as John, also makes his debut on the MTC stage, offering a compelling portrayal of privilege and vulnerability. Their relationship begins as a simple financial transaction. Still, as layers of emotional need are peeled back, it becomes much more complex. Both actors deliver raw, honest performances that leave the audience contemplating the nature of human interaction.
These performances are compelling because they are given by actors with disabilities, portraying lived experiences that we seldom see authentically on stage. This casting choice adds to the stakes of the play.
Set Design as Another Character
Matilda Woodroofe’s set design plays a significant role in telling the story. The contrasting environments reflect the socio-economic disparities between the characters, with the set serving as almost another character in the play. The movement and shifts of the stage echo the tempo of the action, fluid and purposeful. At times, it feels as though the set is breathing with the actors, reinforcing the pace and emotion of the scenes.
One standout aspect of the production is the decision to present the show without an intermission. At two hours long, a show can feel tedious without a break, but not Cost of Living. The tension and pacing build seamlessly, keeping the audience engaged from start to finish. The absence of an intermission feels like a deliberate choice to maintain the intensity of the emotional journey. It allows the audience to fully immerse themselves in the characters’ raw emotions without breaking the spell.
The Heart of Humanity
What sets Cost of Living apart is its focus on the human condition—the need to love and be loved, to connect, and to survive, regardless of physical or emotional barriers. As Eddie poignantly states midway through the play, “Th” That’s how people work.” T” in line encapsulates the entire production. Regardless of ability or circumstance, no one is immune to the human need for connection.
A common refrain in the disability community is that everyone has access needs, and the Cost of Living lays this idea bare. Each character’s physical, emotional, or financial care is examined honestly. Eddie and Jess, who live without physical disabilities, are revealed to have just as much need for care and connection as those they look after. We are reminded that humanity evolved as a collective, and our attempts to imagine otherwise are little more than fantasy.
A Final Word
Ultimately, the Cost of Living is a powerful and authentic portrayal of vulnerability and loss. It strips back the layers of what it means to be alive, exposing the actual cost of living: love, empathy, and human connection. The performances are stellar, the script beautifully crafted, and the direction tight and focused. This play will leave you thinking long after the final bow, and it’s something you’ll replicate any time soon.
Anthea Williams, her creative team, and the exceptional cast have delivered a production that reminds us of the importance of community and compassion. As Williams says, “The only thing that keeps us whole in the end is our connection to and love for one another.”
Photography by Jo Duck Production photos by Pia Johnson
