Donna Portland

Two spotlights. One long wooden bench. That’s all that occupies the simple stage. Yet from this minimal set emerges a richly layered, emotionally textured piece of theatre. Heaven is a quietly compelling two-hander that rests entirely on the shoulders of its actors, and both carry it with grace, depth, and humour.

In alternating monologues, Mairead (Lucy Miller) and Mal (Noel Hodda) each tell their side of a shared story. They never speak directly to one another, yet the interplay of their perspectives – tender, funny, and heartbreaking – creates a powerful sense of connection. The chemistry is in the contrast: Mairead is fiery, frustrated, and yearning for affection; Mal is warm, wry, and wrestling with a long-buried truth.

Set in a rural Irish town on the night of a mutual friend’s wedding, Heaven captures a pivotal moment in two lives quietly unravelling. Mairead, long disconnected from both her husband and daughter, finds herself tempted by an old flame. Mal, equally starved for intimacy, reveals his lifelong but unacknowledged attraction to young men – something he has kept hidden behind the veil of domesticity. His quip about fantasising over “Jesus” as a young altar boy is one of several unexpected, laugh-out-loud themes that punctuate the play’s poignant revelations.

Director Kate Gaul describes the couple as “great friends, warm to each other,” but with “huge parts of themselves they haven’t revealed.” That observation anchors the emotional core of Heaven. Each character has settled into a life that looks fine from the outside but feels hollow within. On this one night, their reflections hint at the fragile possibility of change – of choosing not comfort, but truth.

O’Brien’s writing is lyrical and intimate. There’s an authenticity in both characters that feels deeply human – flawed, funny, searching. If the title Heaven seems elusive at first, it may be because both characters are chasing their own vision of it, hoping to escape the quiet despair of lives not fully lived.

Performed in the intimate amphitheatre-style space of The Loading Dock Theatre at Qtopia Sydney, the production’s closeness intensifies its impact. Every line lands clearly, every expression matters. With only subtle musical cues, the emotional texture is carried entirely by the strength of the performances – and both Miller and Hodda deliver. Both are Australian yet their Irish accents sound authentic!

The venue itself is worth a visit. Located in the heritage-listed former Darlinghurst Police Station, Qtopia is the largest museum and cultural centre dedicated to queer history and culture in the world. With four buildings on site, it’s worth arriving early or staying after the show to explore. A bar onsite offers refreshments, and the audience – an even mix of ages and genders – added to the warm, community feel.

Presented by Bitchin Wolf, a theatre and film company devoted to bold, magical storytelling, Heaven runs until 31 May. The performance lasts 90 minutes without interval. Tickets are $45 general admission and $35 concession.

A moving, quietly radical meditation on love, regret, and identity, Heaven proves that even the simplest staging can hold a world of complexity.

Written by Eugene O’Brien | Directed by Kate Gaul | Presented by Bitchin Wolf at The Loading Dock Theatre, Qtopia Sydney

To book tickets to Heaven, please visit https://events.humanitix.com/heaven-at-the-loading-dock.

Photographer: Alex Vaughan

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