The Birds: Gothic Horror At Belvoir

The Birds

The Birds Rating

★★★★★

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Feathers fly and beaks pierce in this contemporary take on Daphne du Maurier’s horror classic.

Gothic horror is officially having a revival. Nosferatu by Robert Eggers. Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein. Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights. STC’s production of Dracula, starring Cynthia Erivo, on London’s West End. Daphne du Maurier’s novel Rebecca is revered within the gothic horror canon, alongside her short story The Birds.

Du Maurier’s ‘The Birds’ is a tight, terrifying tale written and set in Cornwall, in the 1950s. This is post-war England. Men and women that fought against fascism and survived the blitz. The story focuses on Nat, his unnamed wife and their children, Johnny and Jill.

Without warning, the birds begin to flock, and attack. They gather, out to sea, in the winter fields. Driven by the east wind. Besieging the family. Drawing blood with stabbing beaks.

Nat is more prepared that his distant neighbours. He observes and acts. Others fall victim to the birds, their bodies left lying in and around their homes.

Alfred Hitchock’s classic chiller ‘The Birds’ followed in 1963, shifting the action to Bodega Bay, California. Hitchcock took the title and the concept and had Evan Hunter (better known by his pen name, Ed McBain) rewrite the story.

Hitchcock’s movie centres on socialite Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedron’s debut) and lawyer Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) as the birds attack and they struggle to survive and keep Brenner’s mother Lydia and young sister Cathy alive. (Interesting side note: Cathy is played by teen Veronica Cartwright, who went on to play Lambert in Ridley Scott’s classic sci-fi horror, Alien.)

In 2026, Belvoir presents Malthouse Theatre’s production of ‘The Birds,’ directed by Matthew Lutton (The Return, Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Bloody Chamber) and adapted Louise Fox (Glitch, Tartuffe, The Trial)

Lutton and Fox decided to transpose the story to Australia, to a small seaside town somewhere in Victoria, bringing the action up to date with mobile phones, pandemics and conspiracy theories.

Australia is the only country in the world to fight, and lose, a war against birds. In 1932, the military, armed with Lewis machine-guns, were sent to Western Australia to defend the wheatbelt in the Great Emu War. Australia is legendary for its deadly fauna from funnel web spiders and red-bellied black snakes to sharks and stonefish. Birds and quokkas are among the few things that aren’t trying to kill you.

Despite the Australian setting, the attacking birds are predominantly the gulls and gannet of Du Maurier’s short story. I’ve seen sulphur-crested cockatoos eat a trampoline and hack through wire screen doors with hooked beaks and talons. We never hear these natives in the soundscape. No screeching cockatoos or menacing kookaburra laughter. I’m afraid that if Australia’s birds suddenly turned murderous, we wouldn’t survive the 80-minute duration of the play.

 

 

Lutton and Fox’s decision to make this a one-woman show, casting Paula Arundell (The Master and Margarita, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child) was a masterstroke.

Arundell leads as Tessa. She is Nat’s unnamed wife from Du Maurier’s short story given the name of Melanie Daniel’s unseen aunt from Hitchcock’s movie. Arundell shifts roles and voices as Tessa talks to her husband, children and neighbours. This is a choice – and like Vegemite you may love or hate it. For me this jumping between roles was a misstep, dragging us out of the building tension, throwing the focus away from Tessa to other characters that will never be fully realised. In an 80-minute show, every moment away from that central character is a loss and the zig zagging was distracting.

The adaption introduces other issues. Australianisms and moment of humour pierce the rising tension, deflating the horror. We lose the gradual building terror of Du Maurier’s original story, where she deftly escalates from waves of small birds to gulls and gannet, and the grim finality of the birds of prey with their sharp beaks and deadly talons. There was no light comedy to dull that horror. Do 2026 audiences need respite or giggles?

Warnings in the programme include coarse language, and graphic descriptions of violence, harm and death. The coarse language is grating. Does a play really need the F-word and C-word thrown around to be contemporary or authentic? They added nothing but took a lot. Likewise, Fox’s graphic and gory descriptions of the dead and dying add little but shock value. The audience’s imaginations can conjure these horrors without a list of brutal injuries and mutilated body parts.

This is a production with no actual birds. No animatronics, no puppets, no projections. The bird attacks are conjured with stabbing sound and fierce white light. The effect is visceral and nothing short of brilliant. Lighting Designer, Niklas Pajanti, and Composer and Sound Designer, J. David Franzke’s collaboration is breathtaking.

Kat Chan’s set appears minimalist at first glance. Three white windows and pitch-black staging. The outline of Tessa’s house as a raised platform. The inclusion of a treadmill felt like a gimmick. When Arundell is running for her life, it sadly looks more like she’s jogging at a 24-hour gym. (Useless fact: Hitchcock used a treadmill on a soundstage for the scene where the schoolchildren flee the crows. They ran on a treadmill, in a cage, while handlers threw live birds at their heads!) Chan’s set extends above Arundell’s head as the roof threatens to cave in on Tessa. I may have imagined it but there seem to be black bird boxes hiding among the stage lights. Black roofs, holes cut in their sides, like little gothic haunted bird houses.

Paula Arundell is a force to be reckoned with. Horror is often looked down on as a genre. But Australian actors have taken horror roles as an opportunity to shine. Nicole Kidman in The Others. Toni Collette in Hereditary. Samara Weaving in Ready or Not. Naomi Watts in The Ring. Essie Davis in The Babadook. Paula Arundell appeared in Late Night with the Devil. She plays Tessa as the final girl, initially confused and afraid but gradually adapting and finding her power, fighting back to protect the ones she loves.

Arundell’s barnstorming performance, and the lighting, sound and set design lift this production, creating a gothic horror for the post-pandemic, post-truth age.

To book tickets to The Birds, please visit https://belvoir.com.au/productions/the-birds/.

Photographer: Brett Boardman

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Neighbourhood Watch

Neighbourhood Watch

Neighbourhood Watch Rating

★★★★★

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4

This was my first visit to Lane Cove Theatre Company, I was met by warm greeters at the door. The intimate space then added to that cosy sense of community-mindedness. The warmth and passion of director Kathryn Thomas, delivering the acknowledgment of country and welcoming us, was a great start. I was excited for what lay ahead.

The Wednesday 11am session is, I can now confirm, a genuinely civilised way to experience theatre. It is also, the perfect hour for this attention-challenged reviewer to see Lally Katz's Neighbourhood Watch; a hefty play dealing with some big issues centring the question of when and why we stopped knocking on each other’s doors.

The set divides the stage into two distinct domestic worlds. To one side, Ana's home; layered with the sentimental clutter of a long life, ornaments and keepsakes crowding a shelf beside antique chairs upholstered in faded pink. To the other, the sparse, slightly chaotic territory of youth; a cream sofa with an ironing board for a companion. That ironing board is doing a lot of thematic work, as it turns out.

Directors Kathryn Thomas and Christopher O'Shea, use a creative light and sound design to split stage with real intelligence; symbolic darkness pooling around characters who are unheard or unreachable, light carving out the emotional temperature of each scene with quiet precision.

The play opens on Isobel Rabbidge as Catherine, standing alone in the dark. When the lights rise, what we see is a young person held together by very little; their melancholy is in their posture and anguish across their face. It's a bold, wordless opening statement, and Rabbidge earns it. Christopher O'Shea's Ken arrives to break the spell, and together they establish the housemate dynamic with warmth and comic ease, celebrating Kevin '07, negotiating the competing distractions of World of Warcraft and compulsive ironing, gently circling each other's wounds.

The neighbourhood assembles around them: the polished, self-contained Christina; the relentless Nancy with her Neighbourhood Watch clipboard; and Milova, whose dogged pursuit of friendship Ana meets with hostility. We see the collective loneliness, and we are frustrated by the missed connections.

 

 

Then Ana arrives in full. I found out later that Miriam Fagueret's authentic and powerful performance is a stage debut! Her Ana is genuine, funny, heartbreaking and fierce, an eighty-year-old woman who has survived prisoner of war camps across three countries and is absolutely not about to be managed by anyone. Fagueret finds the dark comedy in Ana's mistrust without ever softening what lies beneath it, and when the play shifts into its magical realist register; reaching back into wartime Hungary through gorgeous ensemble work, she anchors those sequences with a lived-in gravity that is quietly extraordinary.

The production's best moments arrive when the cast moves as a collective. The ensemble, including Caitlin Clancy, Penny Day, Gabriel Jab'bar, Jack Stout and Luca Savini, create the bridge between past and present with a physical attentiveness that gives the magic realism its legitimacy. Being an opening session, there were a few stumbles; entirely forgivable, and in truth, the trust and responsiveness between Rabbidge and Fagueret in navigating those moments only deepened the sense of a tight-knit ensemble at work.

The second act darkens considerably. Catherine's truth and Ana's collide, and Rabbidge meets the challenge with a raw, heart-wrenching honesty. The chemistry between the two leads is the engine of the whole piece; you feel the unlikely love of this odd couple friendship, which makes its ruptures genuinely painful.

Neighbourhood Watch is a long piece, and it carries weighty themes: grief, isolation, trauma, the peculiar modern loneliness of living wall-to-wall with strangers. But it is lifted throughout by the warmth of its central relationship and by a company that clearly believes in what they're making.

For the HSC students who will study this text, seeing it live is an extraordinary gift. For everyone else: this is exactly the kind of story that reminds you what theatre, and neighbourhoods, are actually for.

To book tickets to Neighbourhood Watch, please visit http://www.lanecovetheatrecompany.com.au.

Photographer: Paul Frontczak

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Duruflé's Requiem And Poulenc's Gloria

Duruflé's Requiem And Poulenc's Gloria

Duruflé's Requiem And Poulenc's Gloria Rating

★★★★★

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27

Today, on a glorious Saturday, the audience at the Sydney Opera House was treated to a magnificent concert featuring Maurice Duruflé’s 'Requiem' — first performed in Paris in 1947 — alongside Francis Poulenc’s 'Gloria'. Representing a bridge across time, the concert offered extraordinary choral performances filled with beauty, spirituality, and emotional depth.

Completing the program was the world premiere of 'Time’s Fell Hand' by Carl Vine choral piece, which injected a distinctly Australian flavour into the French compositions of Duruflé and Poulenc. Together, the works took the audience on a remarkable journey of colour and harmony, calm reflection, and contemplation.

We were dazzled by the unexpectedly large choir — close to 500 performers — whose extraordinary vocal blend created an astonishing combination of tones and textures. The sheer scale of the ensemble was breathtaking, yet its sound remained balanced, nuanced, and deeply moving.

The opening carried an elegant stillness, overlaid with worshipful and spiritual sounds. It evoked a beautiful mix of church-like hymns and reverent chants, immediately creating an atmosphere of reflection. Duruflé’s Requiem, supported by orchestral textures within the sound design, felt both intimate and expansive. The entry of the Opera House organ added further depth, creating a rich soundscape of extraordinary resonance.

 

 

The five vocal sections — bass, baritone, alto, mezzo-soprano, and soprano — worked collaboratively, creating a beautifully unified and layered performance. A particular delight was the harp, played exquisitely, its sound like delicate stitches woven into an intricate musical tapestry.

The soloists, each brought distinctive voices, perfectly matched to the score. Samuel Dale Johnson opened a new door to musical expression with his beautifully delivered performance. Already recognized as one of today’s leading young baritones, with extensive performances across Europe, he brought depth and refinement to the role.

Award-winning mezzo-soprano Helen Sherman infused the music with richly textured mid-range warmth, delivering a performance of rare beauty and sensitivity.

Puerto Rican-born, Sydney-based soprano Meechot Marrero dazzled the audience with finely controlled tonality, never overpowering the composition but always enhancing both choir and orchestra. Her international career has taken her across Europe, the United States, the United Kingdom, and South America, performing in productions including 'The Magic Flute', 'Turandot', and 'Candide'. Her final delivery of “Amen” was utterly mesmerizing.

Conductor Elizabeth Scott demonstrated remarkable skill in leading the orchestra, organ, choir, and soloists with precision, grace, and sensitivity.

The finale of Poulenc’s 'Gloria' left the audience with a profound sense of spiritual inspiration and emotional uplift.
An unforgettable performance indeed.

To book tickets to Duruflé's Requiem And Poulenc's Gloria, please visit https://www.sydneyphilharmonia.com.au/events/durufles-requiem-poulencs-gloria/.

Photographer: Keith Saunders

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Sweet Charity

Sweet Charity

Sweet Charity Rating

★★★★★

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1

Hornsby Musical Society’s production of Sweet Charity succeeds because it understands the difficult balance at the heart of the musical. Beneath the colour, comedy, energetic choreography, and sharp stylisation sits a story about loneliness, resilience, and the exhausting act of continuing to hope. This production never loses sight of that emotional core.

At the centre of everything is Victoria Alfieris as Charity Hope Valentine, and it is her performance that anchors the entire production. Alfieris brings charm, vulnerability, spark, and sincerity to the role without ever reducing Charity to caricature or sentimentality. Her performance captures the essential contradiction of the character: a woman repeatedly bruised by disappointment who continues moving through life with irrepressible optimism. That emotional openness carried through her singing and dancing, creating a Charity who always felt emotionally alive and in motion.

Several musical numbers particularly showcased her strengths. “You Should See Yourself” was tender and sincere, while “If My Friends Could See Me Now” balanced comic exuberance with emotional honesty beneath the fantasy. “I’m A Brass Band” became one of the evening’s emotional high points, with Alfieris capturing Charity’s overwhelming rush of hope and possibility with infectious warmth.

James Denton’s Oscar Lindquist provided an effective counterpoint to Charity’s energy. Denton wisely leaned into Oscar’s physical awkwardness, using nervous movement, hesitant posture, and restrained reactions to make the character endearing rather than merely eccentric. This physicality gradually softened during the Ferris wheel scene, allowing genuine warmth and connection to emerge naturally between the two leads. Denton’s understated comic work during “I Love to Cry at Weddings” was particularly effective, with small physical reactions and visible discomfort generating both humour and sympathy.

 

 

Among the supporting cast, Max Waterson stood out as Vittorio Vidal. Rather than pushing the role into parody, Waterson gave Vittorio genuine charm and sweetness, especially during “Too Many Tomorrows,” which landed with surprising sincerity. Alfieris and Waterson also played beautifully off one another during the apartment sequence, balancing comedy, fantasy, and genuine warmth in a way that made Charity’s excitement feel completely believable.

The ensemble work throughout the production was consistently strong. “Big Spender,” “Rich Man’s Frug,” and “Rhythm of Life” each possessed distinct physical identities and strong collective energy. Director and choreographer Lauren Oxenham, who also choreographed Hornsby Musical Society’s Grease last year, again demonstrated a strong instinct for ensemble movement and theatrical rhythm. Where Grease required buoyant nostalgia, Sweet Charity demanded sharper stylisation and emotional edge, and Oxenham’s choreography rose confidently to that challenge.

The production’s visual design also deserves praise. The abstract, block-like set design, at times reminiscent of Rothko paintings, created flexible playing spaces that transformed smoothly into locations such as the elevator, closet, and Ferris wheel. Costumes brought generous colour to the production while still allowing larger numbers like “Rich Man’s Frug” and “Rhythm of Life” to develop distinct visual identities. Lighting was also used effectively to shape mood and transitions, though from some audience positions several lighting cues projected directly into sightlines and briefly became distracting.

Musically, the production maintained strong momentum throughout the evening, with the orchestra supporting the show’s shifting emotional rhythms without overwhelming the performers. Just as importantly, the production trusted the emotional honesty of the material. Rather than treating the ending as cynical, the final moments suggested something more hopeful: that despite repeated disappointments, Charity retains the capacity to keep moving forward.

That sense of resilience lingered after the curtain call. In the end, Hornsby Musical Society delivered a production of Sweet Charity that was not only entertaining and visually confident, but emotionally sincere, anchored by a warm and compelling central performance from Victoria Alfieris.

To book tickets to Sweet Charity, please visit https://www.pioneertheatre.com.au/whats-on/sweetcharity.

Photographer: Stefanie Roche Dobb

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