Following its wildly successful Melbourne debut last year, opera’s greatest late-night party Opera Up Late will return to the Regent Theatre for one mischievous night only, on 15 November.
Outrageous, opera-loving host Reuben Kaye will once again shock and delight audiences with his riotous celebration of all things operatic, with added musical theatre classics and a few pop hits sprinkled in, this is a night at the opera like none other.
Joining the fun are some of Opera Australia’s finest singers, including Australia’s most highly awarded soprano Emma Matthews, with Ruth Strutt, Daniel Macey and Anthony Mackey, who all make a welcome return to the glittered Opera Up Late stage.
This year the operatic cabaret will borrow its set from Opera Australia’s new production of La Bohème and will feature an all-new repertoire of wicked jokes, fabulous costumes and a brand new take on some of opera’s most iconic arias, but in the queerest, campest way possible.
Award-winning director Shaun Rennie has praised the talented host and cast who make this concert an ongoing and joyful celebration of opera, queerness and camp.
“Opera Up Late began as a one-off concert in 2023 for World Pride and has grown into an ongoing celebration of all things opera, camp and naughty unapologetic joy!
“Built on the extraordinary talent, creativity and infectious energy of Reuben Kaye as host alongside so many gifted performers from Opera Australia, it is a total joy to create every year.
“I’d encourage everyone to join us at the Regent Theatre in November for a guaranteed night of belly laughs and divas!” Rennie said.
In all its sparkling glory Opera Up Late will be an unforgettable night out, the perfect opportunity for audiences to dress to impress, laugh out loud and celebrate everything fabulous about opera.
Performance information
Music Director/Pianist: Shanon D Whitelock
Director: Shaun Rennie
Host: Reuben Kaye
Cast: Emma Matthews, Ruth Strutt, Daniel Macey, Anthony Mackey
Featured Dancers and Choreographers: Nicholas Jachno, Tiggy Treloar
Time: 9:00pm
Date: 15 November
Running time: Approximately 75 minutes with no interval.
This production may contain adult themes, coarse language, drug references, nudity, and sexual content.
Bookings Adult tickets from $79 (fees may apply) Opera Australia Box Office (03) 9685 3700 www.opera.org.au
Here’s a genre you may not have heard of: ‘suburban gothic’. It’s considered an offshoot of American gothic horror but instead of taking place in creepy castles or Antebellum mansions, the stories are set in, well, suburbia. Rather than external threats, suburban gothic tends towards modern human horrors; small, insular communities far from main cities that encourage if not mandate conformity to a culturally imposed ideal of ‘the good life’. The worst and most absurd consequences of this lifestyle are shown off in Living The Dream: a hilarious, riveting and quintessentially Australian suburban horror play that deconstructs Victorian suburbia with scintillating nuance and insight.
James (Ryan McInerney) has just moved into Arcadia: a pristine Victorian suburb populated by colourful characters. ‘The Boys’ quickly take a shine to him, as Cluey (Ed Wallis) and Damo (Oliver Qubrusi) attempt to bond with him over cricket, drinking and complaining about their wives. James always keeps a little distance, though, especially from Rich (Julian Machin), the de facto, overly smiley leader of the posse. He also bonds with their wives, along with Alison (Dempsey Doyle), the only single woman in town and the most normal-seeming person around. They start a relationship but as the months go by, everything unravels. The neighbours cross more and more boundaries, Alison and James argue about their future, and it becomes clear that James’ past city life is more complicated than he lets on.
Every performance adds depth to stereotypes of Aussie life we’ve all seen. As the leads, McInerney and Doyle have great chemistry, and their cynical characters give much-needed grounding and perspective to a strange world. Cluey and Damo may be degenerate, alcoholic archetypes of toxic masculinity, but they’re also given moments of vulnerability. We don’t excuse their behaviour, but it’s clear that they’re extremely damaged people who, like James, are seeking to find their place in the world. Rich, on the other hand, is much more malevolent, and Machin’s portrayal of him is fantastic to watch. He reminded me a lot of Patrick Bateman, with a façade that falls into the uncanny valley between psychotic and charming.
The characters and performances of ‘the wives’ – Rachel (Bridgette Kucher) and Jill/Joyce (Crystal So) – are just as strong and important. While Kucher perfectly sells the delusion and denial of someone ensconced in a hostile environment, So’s character reaches a terrifying breaking point; even her physicality seems broken, like a marionette being jerked on its strings. It’s clear that the entire cast has given so much energy and thought to who their characters are and how they see the world, and it is an absolute delight to watch them all bounce frenetically off each other.
There are so many details in the show’s design that add to the eeriness of Arcadia, from obvious idiosyncrasies, like characters talking about a beautiful painting when all the audience sees is a blank canvas, to the subtly strange, like everyone changing clothes between scenes except for James. The music accompanying the blackout scene transitions is strange, synthy and becomes more corrupted over time, keeping the energy going and giving a real sense of how things deteriorate even when we aren’t watching. Arcadia feels like its own real yet liminal space between the authentic and the absurd.
While the performances are incredible, they have an amazing story and script to work with. Not a word is wasted, every joke hits with an undercurrent of dread and every scene ends in the most perfectly awkward spot. There’s also a clear understanding of how abuse functions in relationships and communities. While James tries to stay afloat and get Alison out of Arcadia with him, we understand exactly how the community manages to draw them back in with gaslighting, blackmail and boundary crossing. The ending epitomizes all this and leaves so many questions unanswered, but in a way that feels only appropriate. We feel just as confused and trapped as the characters are in the Hell they created.
As a horror comedy, Living The Dream knows exactly what tone it wants to strike and hits it out of the park in every respect. There is so much that it does right that it’s hard to single out any particular aspect of it – it’s a production that just…works. It’s polished, fun, thoughtful, heartbreaking and chilling, and I certainly hope it has a life beyond the Fringe festival. I’d certainly be happy to see it again.
Up the stairs of the multi-story landmark Clocktower building in Moonee Ponds, I come upon a theatre studio lit up in bright primary colours, complete with a giant matted floor, and two rows of seats at the back. With prams parked downstairs in the entrance hall, hoards of parents gladly seat themselves criss-crossed in these roomy surroundings, with their babies and toddlers in tow, eagerly awaiting ‘Coach Mon’s Baby Wonderland’, a musical adventure for infant and tots, to begin.
Among the ohhhs and ahhhs, I am enamoured by a set decorated in pure Australiana. Encompassing a journey over land and sea, a tree is bedecked in thick foliage, representing the Australian bush. An underwater vista set piece is sitting upright, representing the Great Barrier Reef. And finally, a mountain-shaped cutout is brimming with sparkly perfection, representing the Snowy Mountains. A resounding set design, simple yet effective; not unlike ABC’s Playschool, or the imaginary magical kingdom set in Mr. Rogers Neighbourhood.
The show begins naturally, gaining the children’s attention with singer and musician Jackson Peele kneeling on the floor with a guitar in hand, dressed in a tracksuit in purple, green and blue hues. Beside him is the show’s star and co-creator, Coach Mon, played by Monique Warren, similarly dressed in a sports hat and uniform wearing green, red and purple. Together, they begin the show in an intuitive fashion, milling around and interacting with the mums, caregivers and toddlers as everyone is still walking in. Feeling as if we will be playing an active role in this upcoming adventure.
Once the door closes, Coach Mon and Jackson start singing a welcome song, pleasantly and gently, warming up the audience and harmonising well. They teach the children to wiggle their fingers and touch their toes. Coach Mon has a beautiful light and poppy voice, drawing the toddlers in with her animated facial expressions and fun, sharp choreography.
The story begins as Coach Mon and Jackson talk about the galaxy, and the stars that light up the night sky. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ begins, and everyone joins in. Suddenly, a shooting star crash lands on the stage. They pick it up and a rendition of ‘Little Star’ is then sung, asking where she’s come from, and if she is lost. With a tinkling noise, we discover the star’s name is Stella, and in her fall, she has lost three missing pieces. Coach Mon decides to help Stella find them, so she can fly back out and shine once again in the universal skies.
So ‘off on an adventure’ we go, by singing ‘Walking in the bush’ to find her missing pieces. Where lovely bird sounds are heard, along with ‘Leaves blowing in the wind’, as Coach Mon grabs some bushes off the tree and bounds through the pathways of children – to rustle the bushes on the ground as she walks around.
Creating an exciting sensory experience, the children look up enthralled, as the Old MacDonald nursery rhyme begins to play, with the words updated to reflect the animals seen in the Australian bush: like Kangaroos, Wombats and Koalas. As ‘Ei-ei-oh’ is sung out, a little girl starts hopping up and down out front, as a toddler claps her little hands. As Coach Mon mimics each animal, the children are having an absolute ball. It is so heartwarming to see.
Suddenly? Behind the bush tree – they find a piece of the star. As they shake it, a sound tinkles. They put it back on Stella. But two more pieces are still missing.
And so we venture underwater, with Coach Mon cleverly adding swimming lesson movements. Suddenly, a large sheet of lightweight blue fabric is held by both Coach Mon and Jackson, who manage to float it above the children all around the room, as if the children are sitting under the waves of the ocean. Singing a classic underwater song, we are in the ‘Great Barrier Reef’. But that’s not all. For a surprise ensues, enlightening our morning audience with a huge sparkly jellyfish, who floats ever so gently around the room to an amazing effect. Then lastly? A fish is held blowing bubbles out, to great delight, encouraging the tots to pop the bubbles with their hands for further sensory joy, all under the guise of blue oceanic lights.
After another piece is found? We head up on a steep walk, to the Snowy Mountains, delightfully displayed by Coach Mon and Jackson, who pretend to climb up either side of the mountain cutout, two-by-two, with their fingers.
Suddenly, the temperature drops, and Coach Mon throws out netted white cloths to be used as snowflakes, encouraging parents and kids to wave these cloths up and down. Icy winds are blowing as they sing ‘I’m a little snowflake’ – asking toddlers to touch their face, nose and toes with the freezing snowflake. Then to count to 3, and ‘throw your snowflake back to me‘.
To the children and parent’s delight, the final piece is found, a child yells out, ‘great job’ – and the whole audience laughs uproariously.
As we wave goodbye, Stella is sent back up to the sky. A sweet and heartwarming finale to a great Australian adventure. Ending with a beautiful line, ‘Our friend Stella is now shining down on us.’
All in all, I would highly recommend any parent to bring their child along and be bedazzled by this sweet and delightful show. Hats-off to director and co-creator Laura Aldous for making this children’s production polished and professional, as it contained all the enchanting elements of toddlerdom combined. The children all bopped and danced in dreamy landscapes with smooth transitions, a classic warm up and goodbye song; sensory surprises; kids encouraged to sing and dance, and movement coached clearly throughout. What was especially lovely was the music and singing being so natural and gentle, with an acoustic guitar and no backing tracks. I also loved the Australian landmarks, animals, bush songs and references used across the show, making this production unique for parents, carers and children of all ages.
Deep within the depths of the Motley Wherehaus I enter Vault 2 – a tiny rectangular 25-seat theatre encased in wall-to-walk black draping, already creating a dramatic, moody, and immersive chasm of theatrical bravery for me to embody.
Against a black minimalist stage dimmed against green and crimson lighting, and flanked by white candles on either side of the stage, a black scenic cube remains static, along with a black lonesome notebook.
Overhead? Ominous sound waves are heard, of violin and guitar music rippling through the room. And at last, the shadow of a lonesome figure is cast behind the stage curtain, singing a traditional Catholic hymn. As the lights brighten, we meet Sydney-raised Lana Filies, writer and creator of ‘Saltwater Girls’, a confessional show about a woman’s journey of self-discovery – back to her own true identity.
As we meet our heroine, prayers are sung, and knees are on the floor, and Filies begins her sinful tale at aged 12, by strapping us in and encasing us in a patriarchal nightmare – in a no-holds-barred cell of an all-girls Catholic school. Or a ‘Catholic Utopia’, as Filies would have liked to have believed.
But as with most teenagers, curiosity often kills rigid order. Social norms fall by the wayside. Leading us by the tail – into the scene of a sin-worthy crime – a church broken-into by Filies, and her Catholic school cohort: her three other girlfriends and her male cousin. Where they come face-to-face with a bottle of wine and proceed to get drunk – a wicked start to some primal adventures. A first kiss with a girlfriend ensues, unleashing a sexual urge so strong, that a lesbian yearning is awakened.
This accelerates to a lingering bathroom kiss at a school party. Full of Catholic guilt, her Sappho secret is kept under wraps. Trying to cure what she believes to be a slight malady, she tries to ogle Zac Efron or Harry Styles, only to dream of Gillian Anderson instead. And as the drips of perspiration blare out of the theatre’s speakers, threatening to overpower her desires, they somehow remain stuck and suppressed: within an establishment built on shame.
By year 11? A revolutionary occurrence develops, when a crush on a lesbian teacher uncovers a host of virtues revered: self-respect, self-worth, and validation. For defying one’s social norms. For sticking to one’s values and principles and fighting society’s rules. When she discovers this teacher has a partner – she is sad but ever more curious. The pièce de résistance? The overwhelming discovery of a book of ancient Sappho poetry, written around 600 BCE, featuring verses of intimate human emotions, romantic longing and unapologetic female-led desire. As she looks up the teacher’s photo with her female partner? Something clicks. It is her own true identity beginning to bud, towards an exciting future: to finally be free to be herself.
But all is not rosy on the outside. This teacher gets stood down for discrimination. Liberation turns to rage. In Filies’ mind, it’s time to act out, as she is disciplined within a cluster of defiant boys as punishment. Where instead of fighting, she meditates and shrinks. A whole identity further squashed, sending her into a depressive state, unable to break free once more.
But in a timely fashion, a relationship breakdown (with a male) leads her to finally live a life she can only dream of, as she moves to Kings Cross. Eventually, she talks of finally accepting who she truly is, and how she grows to finally feel free- to fall in love with a woman of her choosing.
That to heal from one’s past? One must fight for one’s identity. That to move forward? One must give themselves the permission to become unstoppable – as a true Saltwater Girl. In purifying one spirit. In rising in one’s identity: all within the cleansing of the sea’s salty currents.
This is a beautiful coming-of-age story by Lana Filies combining storytelling, poetry, and song. It is masterfully directed by Amelia Gilday, and lovingly produced by Moon Bureau. It is a lovely piece of theatre promoting the magic mystery of self-discovery.
