I’m not a sports fan, and I certainly don’t follow any of the Australian football codes, so I wasn’t sure if W, the new play by Madelaine Nunn, would be for me. Starting with the background noise of a packed stadium, with all the chanting, drums, and noise, we’re introduced to four key players of an AFLW football team and their coach as a talented new player, Casey (Celeste Cortes-Davis) joins the ranks. It’s the start of the season, and each player is individually set up to what their story is going to be. The returning new mum, the talented athlete playing in her brother’s shadow, the veteran captain along with her partner planning a baby.
The story tracks the women through the season as they aim to make the finals. As the drama and conflict begin the escalate, characters are faced with moral dilemmas, sacrifice, and professional expectations. Director Rachel Chant did a fantastic job creating an immersive and enthralling performance, with engaging transitions between scenes mixing mime with dance to bring the game alive. The whole technical team did a great job, and the locker-room set was fully immersive.
While some of the early jokes seemed unnaturally crude and didn’t feel right, most of the dialogue was snappy and well balanced. It took a little while for the story to warm up, but when it did, I found myself thoroughly engaged. The characters were deep and human, led by the veteran captain, Rosie (Shannon Ryan) whose personal struggles between desire, injury, and legacy, threaten to derail the team and their season.
Cortes-Davis as Casey, was also great as the talented newcomer who wants to prove herself and become a star like Rosie, but doesn’t yet understand how to navigate the media in professional sport. To be fair, the cast were all really good and gave it their all. For me the highlight was Danielle Cormack as the head coach, Sue. She was funny, charming, and ferocious. Sometimes all at once. I felt like I had to lift my game and play better. I’m Sorry Sue. I’ll follow the system.
It may have been a slow start as I learned about ach character’s journey, by the end of the season I was thoroughly entertained. W a funny and dramatic story about the struggles of professional sport and how every choice has a consequence. A play that can be enjoyed by everyone, not just fans of the game.
W is playing At the Old Fitz theatre in Darlinghurst until the 14th of June.
To step into the Genesian Theatre for their production of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ is to be quietly unmoored from the present and drawn into the humid, moral gravity of the 1930s American South. Harper Lee’s Pulitzer Prize-winning classic has long stood as a pillar of American literature—a piercing examination of the human conscience—and under the masterful stewardship of director Theo Hatzistergos, the weight of that legacy is handled with both reverence and raw, visceral power.
The staging is an act of immersive alchemy. By allowing actors to drift through the auditorium, Hatzistergos dissolves the barrier between stage and spectator. We are no longer mere observers; we are neighbors on the porch, witnesses to a small town’s slow decay into prejudice. The set, a skeletal Alabama street, breathes with the heat of a bygone era, creating a landscape where innocence is constantly besieged by the shadows of social caste.
At the heart of this storm is Barry Nielsen’s Atticus Finch, a performance defined by a quiet, towering dignity. He is the anchor in a sea of intolerance, teaching his children that character is the only true currency of a soul. Beside him, Brigid Jeffries gives a performance as Scout that is nothing short of transcendent; she captures the sharp edges of childhood curiosity and the dawning, painful awareness of an adult world’s cruelty with breathtaking authenticity.
The narrative pivots on the trial of Tom Robinson, rendered with shattering vulnerability by Ibrahim Conteh. When the verdict falls, it is not just a scene from a play; it is a profound wound inflicted upon the audience’s sense of justice. It reminds us that courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to stand in the path of an oncoming storm when no one else will.
Yet, it is the title that lingers most poignantly in the air long after the final curtain. The mockingbird—that most fragile emblem of pure, selfless spirit—asks nothing of us but to listen to its song. It symbolizes the innocent, those who exist only to bring beauty into the world, and whose destruction is the ultimate mark of human failing. As the play unfolds, we are reminded that these “mockingbirds” are the keepers of our collective grace. To witness their harm is to lose a piece of our own humanity; to protect them is the only path toward redemption.
The Genesian Theatre has not merely produced a play; they have conjured a haunting, necessary mirror. We departed the theatre with a heavy heart, bruised by the injustice we witnessed, yet galvanized by the flicker of courage that remains. This is a production that does not let you look away, and in that gaze, we find the urgent reminder that kindness is a fragile, precious thing—one that must be guarded, defended, and cherished above all else.
Chapter One of your life – if you are lucky, you may date, find your ‘person’, your one true love and live happily ever after. But what happens if that person isn’t there anymore? Do you find another True Love? Do you deserve a second chance at love? “chapter two”, written by Neil Simon and directed by Moja Band, is a fast-paced play exploring the human depth of emotional self-introspection.
Neil Simon is widely regarded as one of the most successful playwrights by his audience and peers. Over his career, he wrote more than 30 stage plays, many of which were adapted into major motion pictures – a rare achievement that highlights his influence on both theatre and film. Simon’s work earned him significant critical respect, reflected in his record for the highest combined number of Oscar and Tony nominations received by any writer in show business history. Having written comedies such as the well-known plays The Odd Couple and Biloxi Blues, I was looking forward to seeing the Hunter’s Hill Theatre’s production of “chapter two”.
When grieving widower George (Daniel Ferris) returns from an overseas trip that was meant to be healing following the loss of his beloved wife Barbara, his brother Leo (Simon Pearce) sets him up with Jennie (Laura Stead) who had gone through and come out the other side of a divorce. Though at first reluctant to return to dating, George relents and picks up the phone to call Jennie. What follows is a surprisingly strong connection between the two characters and they agree to meet that day in George’s apartment. A whirlwind romance blossoms during the first act leading to an unexpected (from the audience’s point of view) engagement after only knowing each other two weeks. Treated to the witty dialogue with the trademark one liner sharp comedic lines of Neil Simon, carried off with just the right amount of nuance and confidence by the two lead characters, I was hooked and asking myself, “where does it go from here?”.
Meanwhile, Jennie’s best friend Faye (Margareta Moir), a brassy actress unhappy in her loveless marriage, longs for attention and affection. Moir highlights Faye’s dramatic lunge into what she hopes will be a cloak and dagger affair with George’s brother Leo, a busy press agent. Pearce leans fully into the role of Leo, a smooth-talking philanderer (and proud of it!) and both he and Moir together deliver the lighter comedic scenes in contrast to some of the more complex themes his younger brother and Jennie are experiencing.
The second act sets out to explore some of these emotionally conflicting themes as George deals with his unresolved immense guilt about moving forward with his life with Jennie. I felt the weight of these heavy scenes as the actors encompass their characters.
Only two months ago, Ferris co-directed The Heartbreak Choir with Pymble Players, which I saw and loved. He quickly switched hats from director to actor onstage, with an outstanding performance playing all the complicated highs and lows of George. “chapter two” was semi-autobiographical, echoing similarities of Neil Simon’s life. Like his character, Simon was already a successful writer when his wife of twenty years passed away from cancer. He met and married his second wife just three months after she died. Drawing from his own guilt and subsequent pulling away from his second wife in the months shortly after their marriage, it is no wonder the dialogue felt so real and raw.
Jennie is left with the emotional fallout of George’s unhappiness during their honeymoon and on the return to their apartment. Stead’s performance led me to be cheering for her character to have a happy life as when we first met Jennie, she was bright, a real sweetheart and full of life. There were plants all around her apartment and from the first telephone conversation, Jennie’s optimism and sweetness was apparent. In the second act, Jennie stood up to George when he was saying some hurtful things to her, and the strength in these scenes showed us that she would fight for George because she loved him, and that she had the confidence to not be a replacement wife but be loved for who she is.
Stead delivers a commanding performance as Jennie, capturing her fierce independence, yet also her raw vulnerability. I had seen Stead some time ago performing the lead role in Hunters Hill Theatre’s “The Ballad of Maria Marten” and I remember that I was impressed by her acting then. It is to her credit that I didn’t recognise she was the same actress until I read her bio in the program, as that character was so different from the current character she was portraying; a testament to Stead’s acting.
The stage was divided into half, with each representing George and Jennie’s apartments. The lighting design by Antony Read worked well, using different types of light and strengths to highlight each. The sound design by Peter Tucker brought out the emotional moments in the play, with songs from the 1950’s lyrics delivering subtle messages to the audience. Well done to the lighting and sound operators Wayne Chee and Oliver Davies on the night I attended the play.
“chapter two” is a witty and emotionally raw masterpiece. Book your tickets to see Hunters Hill Theatre’s performance of this deeply moving play, which invites audiences to witness a story of self-reflection after tragedy and the courageous pursuit of true happiness, the second time around.
Season: 29 May 2026 – 21 June 2026 Running Time: Approx 2 hours with a 15 minute intermission Club Ryde Ex. 728 Victoria Road, Ryde. Tickets: www.huntershilltheatre.com.au
A compelling blend of historical fact and supernatural mystery, Rona Munro’s The Last Witch is a fictionalised account of the last woman to be officially burned for witchcraft in Scotland. Through the fiery clashes between Janet Horne (Paula Searle) and Dornoch’s spiteful new sheriff Captain Ross (Toby Rowe), The Castle Hill Players’ rendition of The Last Witch explores the dynamics of social power between men and women in the 18th century and presents a cautionary tale of what happens when two equally intemperate people with the power to cause harm refuse to back down.
Paula Searle is an electric presence onstage, capturing Janet as both woman and myth through stunning monologues and sometimes shocking interactions with other characters. She has two brilliant moments in Act I that I believe summarise her character; when Captain Ross first visits her cottage to investigate, she easily gains the upper hand in their conversation and evades his questions, acting as though she is about to deny the accusations. She then offers to read his palm and divine his past, a blatant act of witchcraft and a ridiculous escalation of the situation. Later on, in a lovely but misguided moment of emotional connection, Janet comforts Helen and her friend/neighbour Elspeth Begg (Penny Johnson) in their hunger by drugging them with a hallucinogenic herb to make them believe they have access to food. I loved this little show of Janet’s strange ways of caring, and I also loved the (perhaps accidental) nod to a popular Salem witch trials theory. Janet’s constant contradictions make it almost impossible for the audience to form a solid opinion on her. Is she really a witch? Is she even really all that much smarter than the daughter she derides? Perhaps only Janet could give a definitive answer.
The play’s opening night brought a stunning set design of sprawling grass and weathered stone structures, polishing off the scenes with a perfect use of lighting and sound alongside an admirable commitment to Scottish accents. I particularly enjoyed the slow shifting of an aurora borealis as Janet cast her opening spells, the orange glow of the stones underneath Janet’s stake, and the simplicity of spotlights becoming a full moon for Janet’s daughter Helen (Chloe Overeem) to take her own first steps into magic.
Hidden beneath the sordid tales of seduction, ego, and the haunting presence of what could be the Devil himself, The Last Witch is a simple story of the enduring strength of everyday women. The male characters pop in and out of scenes, delivering powerful sweeping statements that completely change the lives of Janet, Helen, and Elspeth, but the relationships forged from powerlessness between these three women ultimately become powerful enough to stop Captain Ross’ path for vengeance and end the cycle of violence before it sweeps beyond Janet.
