Ray and Syliva meet across a crowded room and instantly fall in love. Within a year, they are married and heading off on the honeymoon of a lifetime, three weeks on a distant beach, twelve hours away.
But somewhere between take-off and landing, everything changes.
Soon after we strap in for Pip Theatre’s latest theatrical journey, we are taken by turbulence; Brace Brace follows the trials and transformation of trauma, avoiding didacticism, but with plenty of lighter moments to lift the mood. This is a story of survival that counts the cost, asking the most compelling of questions: what would I do?
Written by playwright Oli Forsyth, Brace Brace is a tricky script to perform, traversing time and space, boasting clipped, rapid-fire dialogue, full of interjections – handled here with aplomb. The story is thematically balanced, tight and well-paced – the truth and precision of delivery a testament to the production’s thorough preparation. I enjoy the immersive presentation, complete with inflight announcement, airline safety instructions for the program, and nice pictures of the newlyweds in the theatre foyer.
The cast are Henry Solomon as Ray, Amelia Slatter as Sylvia and Matthew Filkins in multiple roles. Each actor shows nice emotional range, giving light and shade amidst distress and resilience; The portrayals are contemplative, sharing shifting perspectives on morality, accountability and moving on. Solomon and Slatter show spontaneous, fluid movement, with nice connection – and at times anguished disconnection – as the honeymooners. The story relays how they met, and the incident that changed their lives on the way to their honeymoon, the initial exhilaration turning to examination as the couple trade places in their reactions; She is initially philosophical but ultimately finds it hard to forget, he is initially more uncomfortable – with the framing of the event, and perceptions around his role in both that and perhaps his role in their relationship more broadly – but then is better able to check his emotional baggage.
Solomon and Slatter beautifully highlight the tension between honouring your own experience and freeing yourself from it – a challenge Ray and Syliva struggle to overcome. Filkins shows good versatility in his roles; His multiple casting works especially well here, where the presence of one character he portrays looms large throughout, despite only a brief physical appearance on stage.
Overall, Brace Brace is thought provoking and rendered with honest emotional weight, seasoned with levity. The fight scenes are well handled in the intimate space, the simple set all that is required to bring the story to life. Poignant, rapid-fire and darkly comedic, Brace Brace is a triumph for director Deidre Grace and the entire Pip Theatre team. A must see.
The magic of Hills Musical Theatre Company’s Cinderella began as our complimentary programme arrived with a gift voucher for the canteen (and if that isn’t community theatre done right, I don’t know what is).
The set up is cabaret style. You can bring your own snacks and/or purchase from the canteen. We were then shown to our table. I loved the idea of this cabaret style, but in execution it’s a bit tricky. We were seated with others, which is a lovely way to promote the community, but it means you need to be aware of each other and visibility. I recommend you get there early enough to negotiate comfort. I had to move away from the table to properly enjoy act 2.
That small logistical wrinkle aside, this show was fantastic.
The stage itself announces its ambitions immediately. Set design by Hannah Aouchan and Keith Macbeth glitters with fairy-tale intention, and as the ensemble assembles to open the show, lighting design by Max Tibbles and Jeremy Cardew at Latarka bathes the whole scene in something genuinely enchanted. Musical director Gemma Rolph’s orchestra; live, warm, and present, does what only a live pit can do.
Into all of this steps Claire Polczynski as Ella, and she has the voice of an angel. Polczynski grounds this Cinderella in something more than sweetness; there’s a steeliness beneath the warmth, a Cinderella who knows her own worth even when the world around her doesn’t. It sets up the show’s quietly progressive take on the classic.
This version leans into political satire that lands with a particular sting of relevance; a royal wedding deployed to distract from poverty and stifle revolution, an advisor with his own nefarious agenda, a prince naive to the divide between haves and have-nots. Deniz Dogan plays Prince Topher with a commanding presence that makes his ignorance sympathetic rather than infuriating, and Sebastian Barons is a convincing, credible puppet-master pulling the strings behind him. Theo Cuelho’s cameos as Lord Pinkleton are enjoyable, and Lachlan Hopkins brings charisma and genuine earnestness to Jean-Michel, a revolutionary whose eye only strays from the cause long enough to find Stepsister Gabrielle’s. The show’s comedic MVP, however, is Josephine Pinto as Crazy Marie; and then, as the Fairy Godmother, Pinto delivers a solo to rival Disney.
Kortana Blissett as the Stepmother deserves her own paragraph. Impressively terrifying and clearly relishing every moment, Blissett finds the comedy in the menace without ever letting you feel entirely safe. Blissett and Annie Beardsley, playing Charlotte (the other Stepsister) are a fun comedic duo.
And the costuming, by Angela East and Emma Stanton, that surrounds all of this is extraordinary. The magical transformation sequences are achieved with such clever ingenuity that they serve as a reminder that community theatre, with the right hands on deck, can eclipse a big budget entirely.
Emily Taylor’s choreography leans into the classic musical theatre register while giving the ensemble room to be genuinely joyful together. This is a large cast spanning a wide age range, and every performer seems to know exactly why they’re there. The show’s youngest scene-stealer, Mackenzie Taylor, is all kinds of adorable and already very much at home on the stage (watch this space).
In the interval, the company president spoke about what Hills Musical Theatre Company means to its community, and it wasn’t hard to believe. The values the show celebrates; kindness, generosity, charity, are clearly embodied by the powers that be. That spirit is woven into every corner of the evening, from the canteen voucher to the curtain call.
Cinderella is a whimsical, joyful, surprisingly current night of musical theatre. We’d have happily risked turning into a pumpkin if it had kept going.
Romeo and Juliet. Two starry-eyed lovers whose story ends in tragedy. This iconic and universally known play has been performed globally for centuries. The Shakespearean theatre group Come you Spirits’ performance of Romeo and Juliet onstage at the Darling Quarter Theatre, directed by Charles Mayer and Jo Mayer, was immersive.
Through the very first inclusion of the gentle tapping of a suspended gong by Charles Mayer, and the deep, beautiful sustained vibrational tones that Jo Mayer produced on the crystal singing bowl, the audience was introduced into the world of Shakespeare in a truly magical and harmonious way.
Romeo, played by Ciarán O’Riordan and Charlotte Edwards as Juliet performed the title roles. Both actors conveyed their characters’ young love with an earnestness and innocence, and in the second act, with the desperation and anguish that the characters needed. Who wouldn’t swoon with Romeo’s line, “Heaven is here, where Juliet lives.” O’Riordan aptly portrays Romeo’s intensity of his emotions, aligning Juliet with celestial skies, and taken alone without context of the whole quote, it is one romantic quote!
Edward’s delivery of one of my favourite lines was perfection – “My only love sprung from my only hate, Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love is it to me That I must love a loathed enemy.”
In one scene, Edwards was riveting as she faced the heartbreaking choice of following her father’s wishes of Juliet marrying a man he had chosen that she did not love, or face an uncertain future. Lord Capulet, played with a fierceness by Charles Mayer, had a cold stage presence which demanded obedience, or Juliet would be disowned and thrown out onto the street to survive on her own. This scene was particularly strong, and clearly conveyed as the turning point for Juliet’s future plans.
Mayer also played The Friar, the gentle well-meaning clergyman who secretly marries Romeo and Juliet in the hopes of bringing the two feuding families together, as well as being pivotal in providing the potion to Juliet. The two characters’ different personalities showcased Mayer’s acting talent.
Jo Mayer took on dual roles as Juliet’s Nurse and Tybalt. Her depiction of The Nurse was warm and nurturing, serving as a trusted confidante to Juliet. In stark contrast, Mayer brought great energy and passion to her portrayal of Tybalt, capturing their fiery temperament.
David Halgren accurately portrayed Mercutio as the lovable rogue that his character is. He captured the boisterous charm and brought a fiery zest to Mercutio, clearly shining and delivering the bawdy humour directly to the audience. His untimely demise, with the famous lines – “A plague o’ both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me.” was hard hitting and led to a chain of events that shaped Romeo’s future.
All actors’ accents and, in my opinion, difficult cadence of the Shakespearean language was performed with flawless professionalism throughout the play.
Another original touch to Come you Spirits Romeo and Juliet was the setting. Verona was set in the barren post-apocalyptic land. The characters wore bandanas and gaitors to cover the lower parts of their faces, in part to disguise who they were and to protect themselves from the tumbling dust from sandstorms and brown leaves strewn around the stage. Lighting and sound played a large part in this play, with spotlights, sirens and announcements from the unseen higher hierarchy that alluded to a chaotic environment.
Lighting Design was by Adam Applebaum and the mood he created set the play’s authenticity to bringing our attention to where he wanted us to be.
Kudos to Brandon Read, who composed and performed original music for Romeo and Juliet. Together with his sound design, it completed this magical play. The audience heard Gregorian Chanting, and Read composed the tracks to Solfreggio frequencies, which throughout the show, aligned with our seven chakras.
This was a truly original experience, different to any Romeo and Juliet play I had previously seen. The characters’ movement around the theatre, into the area where we were, and talking to the audience gathered us all together. Shakespeare would have been impressed seeing this interpretation of Romeo and Juliet through Come you Spirits eyes. And he would have left feeling peaceful and fulfilled, at a night witnessing a tale of comedy and tragedy, ending with a grounding and beautiful meditation of gratitude to people and nature. This is a gorgeous production of Romeo and Juliet, do not miss seeing this and being taken away into the world of Shakespeare.
Romeo and Juliet is showing at Darling Quarter Theatre 20 – 22 May 2026 and at the Concourse Theatre Chatswood 28-30 May 2026 Tickets: www.comeyouspirits.com/in-sydney Running time: 2 hours with a 15 minute interval
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.
