The joyous, life affirming comedy Shirley Valentine, starring leading lady of stage and screen Natalie Bassingthwaighte, opens in Sydney next week. Playing at Theatre Royal Sydney for one week only from 22-26 October, Natalie as Shirley Valentine has captivated audiences and critics alike, bringing Willy Russell’s iconic, heartwarming story to vibrant new life.
This beloved one-woman play tells the inspiring and hilarious story of Shirley, a middle-aged, working class Liverpool housewife stuck in a life of routine. Talking to her kitchen wall, she dreams of escape and wonders what happened to the adventurous girl she once was. When a friend invites her on a spontaneous holiday to Greece, Shirley takes a bold leap into the unknown. With humour, charm and grit, she rediscovers her passion for life and her sense of self. Will she return to her old ways, or will Shirley find a new life where she can finally be her true self?
Shirley Valentine is brought to life by acclaimed actress Natalie Bassingthwaighte. Known for her incredible versatility spanning film (Elvis), television (Neighbours, Underbelly, X-Factor) and stage (Chicago, Jagged Little Pill), Natalie’s portrayal promises to deliver a fresh, dynamic take on Shirley’s journey, capturing every laugh, tear and moment of courage.
Audiences and critics raved about the play and Bassingthwaighte’s performance in Melbourne and Adelaide: “An impressive and endearing performance that had the audience on its feet” – The Age “Deliciously funny, poignantly moving, inspiringly uplifting” – Simon Parris, Man in Chair “⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐Grab your girlfriends and make a night of it. You’ll leave the theatre laughing, inspired and maybe even planning your own adventure” – MelbourniseMe “⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ An exceptional play, performed by an exceptional actor” – Impulse Gamer “Absolute gold. Don’t miss this stunning production” – Thescoop.au “Bassingthwaighte truly captivated with her superb portrayal. A phenomenal one-woman performance” – Thescoop.au “Genuinely moving” – Limelight
SYDNEY SEASON Venue: Theatre Royal Sydney Season: 22-26 October (one week only) Performance Times: Wed & Thurs 2pm and 7pm, Fri & Sat 7:30pm, Sat 2pm, Sun 1pm Prices: From $59.00 (Transaction fees apply)
BRISBANE SEASON Venue: Twelfth Night Theatre, Bowen Hills Season: 29 October– 8 November Performance Times: Wed & Thurs 2pm and 7pm, Fri & Sat 7:30pm, Sat 2pm, Sunday 3pm Prices: From $59 (Transaction fees apply)
Theatre, generally, falls into one of two traps. Either it makes an interesting point, but makes you feel nothing, or it makes you cry and laugh and clap your hands, but it doesn’t actually mean anything. Lots of theatre does neither, and yet, Everything I Know About This Waterbottle is a rare case of finally nailing both. In a whip-smart fifty minute dissection of the absurdity of consumerism, writer Micheal Andrew Collins, director Violette Ayad and sole performer Ari Sgouros come together to produce something deeply thought-provoking whilst never letting up on the comedic reins. Indeed, the show is a masterclass in that old saying that comedy and tragedy are simply two sides of the same coin.
Old Fitz is already a miniscule theatre, and many of its productions peacock in this tiny space, forcing you to be a part of their world through sheer proximity. So I must admit I was initially rather perplexed at the show’s choice to literally cut the stage in half. Further, as a fan of diegetic light and sound, my eyes were drawn to the lighting controls and CD that both sat on stage, promising a further muddying of the lines between practitioner and character. Sound continued to impress through the ever-threatening build of rain in the background – Madeleine Picard blending the inner and outer world of the piece with flawless subtly. The canvas draped across the back wall gave the room a haphazard feeling, as if teetering on the edge of collapse. Needless to say, this feeling was replicated much beyond the set. The walls of the Old Fitz were decorated with fluffy clouds, and although this may not have been done specifically for the show on stage, it gave the room a rather avant garde feeling of the outdoors that I really enjoyed. Kudos in this aspect must go to lighting and set designer Morgan Moroney. As the lights dimmed, our sole performer joined us on stage, dropping off her raincoat (a lovely piece of foreshadowing) and leaning down to manually turn up the lights in the room. Sgouros then turned around with a direct address to the audience, setting the tone of the piece and introducing us to both our narrator, and our argument seamlessly.
A one man play is a significant undertaking, especially vocally, and especially for a piece like this that moves so quickly, so I was only the more impressed at Sgouros’s brilliant vocal performance. Her voice filled the space, constantly playing with rhythm, pitch, and tone in a way that allowed her to consistently make the most interesting choice – a valiant effort in a political piece that offers the trap of vocal patterns again and again. Indeed, the humour of the piece felt at least in the beginning as more of a stand up special than a play, which only speaks to the believability of Sgouros’s character work. Never was I convinced it was someone playing something, and not her on stage with us. The comedic work was once again improved by the crew’s careful consideration of comedic timing. In a theatrical landscape that relies so often on speed to create comedy and interest, finding a work not afraid to take their time is a joy. Also – I am an absolute sucker for prop comedy, which was sprinkled throughout the piece delightfully.
Once again I must return to a cardinal rule that defined this piece, comedy and tragedy being two sides of the same coin. The coin, in this piece, was focus. Sgouros was utterly and completely in the zone for her entire performance, and we as the audience couldn’t help but be sucked in with her. It was then this focus that allowed her emotions to shift on a dime. Moment to moment the storytelling shaped her entire being, and not once did her bouts of stress or tragedy feel unearned, even as they were unearthed and satirized moments later. This was commendable again when she faced real-time technical problems, which she adapted to in the moment with seamless humour – and then solved! As a viewer, we felt her intensity in every moment, and we, with her, walked the knife edge between losing it (positively) and losing it (negatively).
Admittedly, I was a little cynical of the show’s premise. Much of climate change theatre boils down to “capitalism is bad and so are boomers and so are you”, leaving you with nothing but an unhelpful sense of guilt as you leave, and an odd, disjointed anger at “the man”. This, again, was batted away by this show team. Everything I Know About This Water Bottle reminds us that yes, we may recycle, and yes, we may reduce our plastic waste, but in matter of fact, the systems and companies around us are so large and so almost-untouchable, that no matter the moral high we may feel by thinking we’re helping, we never really are. In a truly horrifying way, the show reintroduced us to the nihilistic reality of modern day capitalism, and in doing so revealed its core thesis: “the real cost of things”. The real cost of things became a throughline that shaped everything in its path. The real human cost, the real environmental cost, the real emotional cost, the real financial cost. No matter where you looked, no one was telling you the truth about how much was not acknowledged, and then allowed to be ignored for the sake of consumerism. I particularly enjoyed the BP callout for their invention of the “carbon footprint”, and the unloading of climate responsibility onto the individual. This message of our lack of control was interwoven with tiny moments of overwhelm and discomfort, removing the carrot of comedy from us just long enough to recognise how bad it truly is, before giving it right back to keep us constantly, addictively hooked.
As the piece built to its final high, it was revealed to us that we are post-apocalyptic. The long-awaited, ever-warned-about climate disaster has finally stopped crushing people we pretend don’t exist, and it has come for us. In this moment, the piece had one final decision to make, to recognise consumerism being bad, and leaving us with the flat-soda taste of holier-than-thou in our mouths, or to once again reconnect with reality. We got our answer in a deeply touching moment of our main character with an infant child they were asked to take care of, and in doing so, the recognition of the human instinct to protect and provide no matter what. The emotional core of climate change began to unfurl, we want things to change, but we feel useless. We want to be better, but we feel good when we get to have things and give them to others whenever we feel the instinct to. And through this final thread of the argument, the play finished on a gorgeous moment of connection between our main character and their older brother, and the conclusion that we will ultimately save each other, no matter the state of the world around us.
Everything I Know About This Water Bottle shines in every aspect, creating both an intelligent and sympathetic argument, and simultaneously creating emotional highs and lows that feel earned and respectful. Ari Sgouros takes us through the piece with masterful comedic and emotional technique, and the script does everything it can to support her. Truly, my only note is that when she walked too close to us in the audience, we didn’t get quite as much light on her face as I would’ve liked. From production to the stage, this piece is an A Plus example of not just political theatre, but theatre itself.
How far would you go to achieve your ultimate goal? Would you lie? Cheat? Manipulate? Abuse?
In ‘The Edit’, a stellar new play by Gabrielle Scawthorn, these questions take center stage—and refuse to let go. Drawing from her own experiences as a teenage reality TV contestant, along with extensive interviews with past participants and producers, Scawthorn has crafted a gripping, 90-minute dive into the constructed chaos of reality television. The result is a sharply observed, emotionally charged two-hander that leaves its audience both breathless and deeply unsettled.
At the heart of the story is Nia, a fresh-faced contestant on the dating reality show ‘Match and Snatch’, played with heartbreaking nuance by Iolanthe. Entering the world of fame-hungry hopefuls in search of love, Nia quickly finds herself under the guidance—and control—of Jess, the show’s cunning producer, portrayed with chilling precision by Matilda Ridgeway.
Jess sees more than just a contestant in Nia; she sees an opportunity. If she can engineer Nia’s victory, it could be her ticket to a coveted Executive Producer role. What follows is a masterclass in manipulation. Jess positions herself as mentor, confidante, even surrogate big sister. But as the pair become increasingly entangled, the cost of “winning” starts to become devastatingly clear.
Scawthorn’s script is razor-sharp and unflinching, laying bare the industry’s underbelly—where edits shape reality, consent becomes murky, and ethics are easily sacrificed for spectacle. The pacing never falters, with each scene escalating in tension until a breaking point is reached: an unforgivable act that shatters the fragile trust between Jess and Nia. What unfolds is not just a takedown of reality TV, but a haunting exploration of ambition, trauma, and complicity.
The performances are exceptional. Iolanthe captures Nia’s transformation from wide-eyed hopeful to hollowed-out winner with heartbreaking clarity, while Ridgeway’s Jess is terrifyingly believable—a woman whose own battles with mental health and eating disorder are buried beneath a facade of control and charisma. Together, the pair deliver a powerhouse performance that earns every second of the final ovation.
‘The Edit’ is not just a play—it’s a challenge to its audience. It asks: where is your line, and under the right pressure, could it shift? It’s a provocative, unforgettable work that forces us to question not only what we watch, but what we’re willing to do—and accept—for success.
The Bogong’s Song: A Call To Country at Bangarra Dance Theatre is an ingenious new production developed by Yolande Brown and Chenoa Deemal. It is sure to be another award-winning success following their previous highly acclaimed work Waru – Journey Of The Small Turtle which engaged thousands of children last year. The Bogong’s Song presents a truly unique, culturally significant and entertaining performance.
The inclusion of puppets and shadow puppets was captivating and worked seamlessly with Justin Harrison’s fabulous video designs and projected images. Vanessa Ellis excelled as the puppet master and maker; her expertise elevated and transformed the performance into something unique and magical.
The music by Brendon Boney and Yolande Brown, who was also the songwriter and composer, was atmospheric and illuminating. It perfectly complemented the dance choreography with First Nations cultural influences interwoven beautifully throughout. I immensely appreciated the inclusion of Australian bush sounds and animals and First Nations instruments such as tapping sticks and the didgeridoo. These intricate details highlighted and celebrated the cultural significance of the performance.
The lighting by Ben Hughes and Eben Love allowed the audience to transcend into the dreaming experience with mystical effects and timely poignant moments. Particularly impressive was the green lighting for the grass and the beautiful starry scattered lighting.
The performers Benjin Maza and Tjilala Brown-Roberts delivered a majestic performance. They both showcased exquisite artistry in their dancing, acting and singing. They showcased the artistic choreography by Yolande Brown which was an eclectic fusion of First Nations influence combined with hip hop and contemporary dance. Benjin wowed the audience with fabulous strength in his acrobatic tricks and tight, clean movements throughout. Tjilala likewise delivered a flawless performance with soft smooth elegance. Benjin and Tijala both excelled in engaging audience participation and in delivering meaningful heartfelt messages and raising awareness to pressing community issues.
The story highlights environmental concerns of Australia’s endangered Bogong Moth. It interweaves fascinating information which will hopefully inspire discussions and awareness to save this admirable insect. The content also delves into unsettling concerns of juvenile detainment and spreads awareness that children as young as ten years old are being imprisoned. This is heartbreaking and our nation can and should do better by our children. There are infinitely superior ways to help children grow and learn to be respectful and responsible future adults.
The performance also highlights our younger generation’s phone addiction and how they are sadly spending less time being at one with the outdoors and nature. They discuss how essential it is to one’s health and well-being to feel grounded to the earth and mother nature.
The Bogong’s Song at Bangarra Dance Theatre is a thoroughly entertaining cultural experience to be enjoyed by all ages. They beautifully capture First Nations culture in the past, present and future and take the audience on a remarkable dreaming experience. The Bogong’s Song is a meaningful and rewarding performance not to be missed.
