MARVELous: A Risqué Parody delivers exactly what its title promises — a cheeky, adults-only romp through the superhero universe, wrapped in humour, spectacle, and more than a little irreverence. With Deadpool at the helm, reading the audience a decidedly grown-up bedtime story, the stage is set for a night that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
I’ll admit, I arrived expecting a stronger overarching storyline. Instead, the show leans into a series of standalone character acts. It felt less storyline and more a burlesque/boylesque show. While this structure sacrifices narrative cohesion, it does allow each performer their moment to shine — and shine they do.
One of the most inventive elements is the rolling cube set design. These clever structures act as mini studios for each act while doubling as elevated platforms, giving the staging a dynamic, ever-changing feel. Add in bursts of aerial work and impressive physicality, and the visual interest rarely dips. Yes, plenty of skin is bared, but it reads less as overt sexualisation and more as a celebration of strength, athleticism, and control.
The undisputed highlight of the evening was Captain America and Bucky attempting — somewhat unsuccessfully, thanks to a rogue shield — to preserve their modesty while dancing to (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life. It was chaotic, playful, and had the audience roaring.
I desperately wanted to love the Spider-Man song-and-dance number, but persistent audio issues and unreliable microphones dulled what should have been a standout moment. Unfortunately, sound proved to be a recurring villain throughout the night.
Still, with nearly every beloved Marvel hero making an appearance, the show remains accessible even for those without encyclopedic MCU knowledge. MARVELous is bold, creative, and packed with personality — a fun night out.
The Pavilion Players have a specialty. And that specialty, very proudly, is murder mysteries. Easy to produce, easy to sell, and easy to follow, they are the classic choice for smaller theatres. Steve Rowe, however, in his production of Joseph Kesselring’s Arsenic and Old Lace takes that tired structure and turns it completely on its head, as well as pulling some of the most interesting performances I’ve seen in recent memory out of Sydney’s community theatre scene.
The production value at The Pavilion tends to be completely off the charts. Clearly this theatre has the stock to use and cash to burn as they create a lush and busy World War Two Americana household. Chris Lundie, Belinda Rowe, Steve Rowe and Mia Rowe have worked as a concentrated team to take us firmly into the world of this play, all the while giving the actors plenty to play with. This is not the minimalist world of inner-city Sydney. Steve Rowe understands the stylistic necessity of Kesselring’s writing, and dutifully follows it. Lighting and sound (James Winters and George Cartledge) , though less glamorous than their on stage crew counterparts, give us an immersive experience that doesn’t distract us from the onstage happenings – although both had brief moments of jumping cues.
The play follows the Brewster family, a lineage of genuine nutjobs as they navigate the territorial struggles of every family, although with slightly higher stakes. It’s this fact, and the moral questions the play quite cleverly asks, that takes this production proudly out of the world of its predecessors. Instead of being a whodunnit, we follow a whohasn’tbloodydunnit, which allows the black comedic aspects and psychological performances the cast is clearly ready and rearing to produce to shine.
And shine they did. Brett Watkins takes the stage as Mortimer Brewster, the closest thing to a protagonist in this show; and yet, Watkins both investigates the comedy and charisma of Mortimer, whilst allowing him to be a quiet but ever present sleazeball in the way he often seems to rally against. Watkins is an excellent performer, a strong physical comedian and an excellent reactor, taking his time on stage to fully explore the thoughts and emotions he works through in every moment. A particular favourite moment in this regard was watching him deal with the mere knowledge of a dead body in the room, and the Uta Hagan-esque almost three minutes of silent panic and exploration of the space Mortimer goes through as he figures out what to do. I was looking for slightly more weight behind some of his lines, especially as the stakes began to rise, but with the comedic tone of the piece, I’m more than happy to forgive it.
Kate Mannix was an utter standout. Delivering a performance that reminded me starkly of Sophie Thompson’s Monica Reed in National Theatre’s Present Laughter, she struck a truly capital balance between understated and sophisticated comedic performance and genuine emotional intelligence on stage. She also perhaps was the most believable performer in her grief and anger, exploring subtler ways to perform them whilst still acknowledging the sheer size of the theatre she’s in. Her ending became wonderfully satisfying in the knowledge that someone so delightful was going to get away with something so horrible. Truly, no notes.
Another stand-out of the night was Thomas Southwell as Jonathan Brewster. Meeting the very lanky, very shy actor in the foyer, and having watched him perform before, one wouldn’t expect Southwell to shine so brightly in such a strong and demanding character role. But Steve Rowe’s masterful direction and the magic of prosthetics utterly transformed Southwell into a grinning, violent, leering super-star of a character actor. Southwell’s vocal work was delicious, quite literally snarling and growling at the other actors on stage with him. His physical work was equally impressive, going from almost a Frankenstein’s Monster-esque lumber to an animalistic explosion of movement as he launched himself around the stage. Proudly embracing his jealous ambition and searing bloodlust, Southwell’s Jonathan created the stakes of the play almost singlehandedly. My advice to him in the foyer still stands here as I write, he should play parts like this for the rest of his life.
Jem Rowe was similarly enjoyable. With a history in character roles, Rowe leaned heavily into the stumbling, Germanic, comedic sidekick to Southwell’s brutality. However, one could easily see this role slipping into something slightly one note. To this, I commend Rowe. His work to keep the character sympathetic through his obvious discomfort in the level of violence being committed contrasting with his sycophantic loyalty to Jonathan combined into something addictively watchable. The two had excellent chemistry on stage, and his work improved in every scene he was in.
Margaret Olive as Martha Brewster was also very charming. Her comedic sensibilities and chemistry with her sister made her very entertaining to watch and root for. Both of the Brewster women were strong in their use of tempo, which made scenes between them very believable and interesting, although I was missing the vocal strength of her sister. Myles Burgin as Teddy Brewster showed an admirable commitment to the role, and had great instincts for slapstick – although his role didn’t allow him to explore much beyond this. Emma Lebeuf as Elaine Harper was very likeable, a strong female character in her own regard. Although I wanted a little more adult seduction from her, her chemistry with Watkins was very clear, and she leant into the style of the play successfully.
The ensemble gave entertaining performances across the board, and populated the room nicely. At times, this began to lean into caricature, but with the style and era, this must be blamed on the script rather than the actors themselves. The performances across the board may have been lifted by a stronger commitment to play to the objective rather than the comedy, and some actors struggled with comedic “traps” or the repetition of a bit to create laughter rather than strictly earn it. However, for what is admittedly a little bit of a weird play, the neuroticism of the family, the performances of the cast, the production value of the crew and the overall chemistry between the entire team makes this show infinitely likeable. The production sits at a strong intersection between inventive and nostalgic, and is a powerful start to the Pavilion Players’ 2026 season.
Amplified: The Exquisite Rock and Rage of Chrissy Amphlett Rating
★★★★★
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Amplified at Belvoir St is Sheridan Harbridge’s exhilarating homage to legendary Australian rock icon and Divinyls frontwoman, Chrissy Amphlett. Written and performed by Harbridge (Prima Facie), directed by the award-winning Sarah Goodes (The Weekend) with musical direction by Glenn Moorhouse (Hedwig and the Angry Inch), Amplified enters the annals of Australian music historiography.
Part biography, part autobiography, part cabaret, part live concert, part tribute, Amplified is electrifying from the moment the band takes their places and Harbridge enters from the audience wearing knee length boots, a black leather mini skirt and a black trench adorned with silver glitter. She immediately owns the stage.
The show opens with Harbridge asking the audience to tap into their own experiences of seeing school-tunic wearing Chrissy on stage. The band then comes in with ‘I’ll Make you Happy’ and the audience responds. Cheers and applause fill the theatre and the energy is palpable. It’s a terrific and uplifting rendition.
Harbridge doesn’t try to imitate the unique and sublimely defiant Chrissy Amphlett, rather she uses music and stories told by Amphlett herself, and those who knew her, to keep the memories alive and, in doing so, evokes a sense of immortality surrounding the singer.
Amplified tells of Amphlett’s childhood in Geelong and of the circumstances that moulded her into the fierce, feminist, rebellious frontwoman she became.
To those who saw Divinyls on stage in their ‘80s and ‘90s heyday, the experience was unforgettable. Amphlett was unapologetically brash, raucous, overtly sexual and subversive, upending the then Australian music industry dominance of male lead singers. Harbridge showcases Amphlett’s bold stage persona, explores her vulnerabilities, and delves into her long and complicated relationship with Mark McEntee, the band’s co-founder.
This reviewer went to many Divinyls gigs and remembers one in particular at Caringbah Inn in the early 1980s where Amphlett spat on her, which felt like a badge of honour at the time. One never knew what Chrissy might do next!
Like Chrissy, Harbridge teases the audience, but, unlike Chrissy, does so in an unthreatening manner. She takes an unwitting patron’s handbag and empties it on stage; she interacts with the audience, bringing to life the icon’s bad girl persona in all its hilarious brilliance. This is definitely not a production for children.
The stage is backlit by blue lighting with several spotlights centred on Harbridge. The floor seems to be etched in silver swirls and circles emanating around the mic stand like a galaxy of stars, which evokes, in this viewer, the chaos and frenetic energy of Amphlett standing at the centre of her universe.
The four-piece band comprises accomplished musicians Glenn Moorhouse, Ben Cripps, Dave Hatch, and Clarabell Limonta. Their polished execution of songs and divine back-up vocals elevate Harbridge’s storytelling. Harbridge’s vocal range is impressive: from the guttural to falsetto, she doesn’t miss a beat. She uses a recurring motif to tease the audience, which I won’t reveal, have them wanting more and it works to great effect. The background music to Harbridge’s narration is low-key but performative to the story. The tempo walks with each particular narrative then explodes into song.
Sheridan Harbridge is an actor and writer of extraordinary talent. Her comedic timing and ad-libbed moments are things to behold. With Goodes and Moorhouse as collaborators, she has created a wonderful production that surely tugs the nostalgic heartstrings of theatre-goers across Australia.
Murder Incorporated is a rib-tickling revival from Mayhem Theatre Australia, following the exploits of two newly minted assassins who lied about their criminal credentials to pocket a paycheck, and the hijinks ensuing when their deceit is detected and they are forced to accept an ultimatum.
This fast-paced farce is written and directed by Amanda Harrison, an award-winning comedic playwright, who employs clever wordplay and frequently breaks the fourth wall with meta commentary and intentional production ‘mistakes’, in a true comedy of errors. While light-hearted, this comedy is carefully crafted; I especially enjoy how the show’s pacing and audience’s perspectives are manipulated in creative ways for a heightened, dizzying, almost drunken effect – which is enhanced on my account due to mild oxygen deprivation from laughing so much.
The engaging ensemble cast each make their own colourful contribution; Sean Wilson struts his stuff as Sacha Von Stabbington, a role he reprises from the original production. Wilson has excellent comedic instincts, and posture for parody. Stephanie Collins is a delight as Chad Der Villian, showing fine characterisation and range, as a performer also known for playing ingénue roles in musical theatre. As an aside to the main narrative, Collins gives us a couple of bars of Schubert, which are sensational. Wilson and Collins show nice connection and synchronicity together, with sharply timed delivery and natural interplay.
Sam Hoepner brings commanding voice, bearing, and some brut as Markus Murder Jr, which lend well to his characters slightly inept villainy, nicely embodying both the sinister and slapstick. In the Swing Role, Dylan Clevens is hilarious, assuming multiple personas with fierce physicality and deft adaptability, while Ridley Paulsen is well utilised as the Stagehand, self-deprecating and wryly humorous, while taking on the very practical role of keeping the ‘splatter zone’ protected for cast and audience alike.
Mention is also due to Gaige Harrison, for his creditable work in stage and tech management.
In conclusion, Murder Incorporated is a successful spoof that comically creates an unpretentious and intoxicating theatre experience. The play’s sensibility is silliness, but it is done in the absolute best way; I do not remember the last time I laughed so much, a response reflected by the audience members around me. While the Pip Theatre Studio’s columns cause minor sightline obstructions, the compact venue was an otherwise effective space that added immediacy and helped to highlight the madcap and chaotic tenor of the tale, which is itself an unfailingly entertaining and giddy good time. Highly Recommended.
