A one-man biography of an adventure that went sour. Eoin Ryan presents this version of survival on the high seas.
This is his story as a backpacker in Australia wanting to embark on an amazing adventure, by a little white lie about his skills on a fishing boat. The adventure turns into a nightmare as Eoin realizes how hard the fishermen are. He regrets his decision in the end.
It is a fascinating tale but marred by a voice that disappears into the dark reaches of the venue, making it difficult to hear some of the quieter dialogue. Also, some of the technical elements were a bit rough. This could be attributed to first night jitters.
I am sure that it will improve as the season settles into the venue. The only other issue is mainly a venue problem, that is if the performer steps down to the same level as the seating, the audience do have a struggle to see the performer.
Eoin used the stylised set to good use. The narrative flows smoothly and you get a sense of the emotions he felt on the fishing trip. Which included drinking, fighting and the occasional storm. The toxic surroundings he has found himself in, has become violent. He needs to survive the sea and the crew.
The story is good, and Eoin knows it well as he lived it. Just a bit more volume and energy would make it really sail. Overall the audience seemed to enjoy it.
All sessions are followed by a Q and A, so you get the chance to ask questions. It is worth going along to see, I am sure the kinks have been sorted.
If you turn the corner in Malvern’s Central Park in the late morning, you’re greeted by winding ropes cordoning off islands to seat picnic blankets or chairs. You’ll also see set pieces straight from a primary school play: a tiny wooden island and cajón drum, green and brown paint-spattered cloths tied to trees, and details like fake rocks and a shelf of plastic food with the sign SHERIFFS PANTRY.
The team behind Melbourne Shakespeare Company’s Robin Hood uses this sequestered woody space to its fullest to craft a whimsical, ramshackle and original take on a classic story.
Robin (Billy Thomas), Dame Tuck (Jackson Cross) and Little Joan (Lucy May Knight) are going about their usual business of robbing the rich to feed the poor. But when they are caught stealing from the Sheriff of Nottingham (Kaia Reyes), he devises a new punishment: shipping them off to Australia.
There, the merry men, with the help of Bushranger Bruce (Daniel Hillman), must acclimatize to a strange new world and find their way back home. The beginning feels slow and the different scenes are somewhat disconnected and potentially difficult for a child audience to follow, but it was a pleasant surprise to see a slightly different narrative in a panto show.
The ensemble is charming and navigates their stage perfectly. Every line is audible, every slapstick gag is visible and tight, and every spectator gets close-up moments with the characters. Lucy May Knight as Little Joan stands out with a bubbly yet sharp physicality that’s perfect for panto.
The world-building was also fantastic at blending a familiar and fun Aussie context into a classic story. The adorable Australian animal puppets were a highlight, while all the pop culture references and self-referential jokes landed well with the adult audience.
Maxwell Simon’s (Muriel’s Wedding) original score is fun and full of laugh-out-loud lines, but there was only one song where the children were directly encouraged to play along. It felt like the whole show missed out on many opportunities for audience participation, and this led to some clear confusion and lost attention among the kids at some points.
While Robin Hood has its moments of missed potential, it’s definitely a worthwhile and unique experience for the theatre-loving family. It’s a scrappy, feel-good show that keeps the much-loved traditions of panto alive in a timeless yet modern story for an audience of all ages.
‘Breaking: The Musical – a completely legal parody musical’, shares the colourful and comedic story of how ‘Spray-gun’ and her breakdancing reached the Paris Olympics and subsequently broke the internet. Such was the anticipation for this show; there were some audience members dressed in appropriate tracksuits or were watching videos of Olympic footage in the queue to prepare them. A small live band to the side, a white picket fence, and a projector on a completely blacked-out stage awaited the eager hordes. Filled with visual gags and presumably somewhat accurate research of ‘Spray-gun’s’ journey, comedian Stephanie Broadbridge has created something oddly endearing.
Songs were cleverly incorporated, with references to popular musicals such as Rent (‘525,600 dollars’), Wicked (flying on the Olympic torch), and a well-worded encore performance parodying ‘Rain on My Parade’, directly addressing their success in finding a legal loophole. Standout songs included ‘I Think I Pulled a Muscle’, involving ‘Spray-gun’s’ husband forfeiting a spot at competing, and ‘I’m Breaking Down’, a heartfelt ballad on her internet image which is then interspersed with half-hearted breakdancing. An unexpected delight was a song dedicated to her time on ‘I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here’, featuring the other contestants making fun of their own presence on the show, and Julia Morris with a suspiciously Robert Irwin-shaped hand-puppet encouraging ‘Spray-gun’ to embrace her newfound celebrity status.
Sprinkled throughout the performance were references to the legal battle that nearly prohibited them from sharing this World Premiere. Interjections from characters in barrister’s robes or the censoring and changing of words from the narrator were often incorporated into the humour of the show. Standout performances from the ensemble include Jake Howie, particularly with his role as ‘Spray-gun’s’ charmingly Sassy Inner Voice, and Freddie, as her exceptionally over-confident husband and partner in crime.
A purely mimed segment encompassing the journey from Australia to Paris was one of the strongest moments in the show. The exaggerated impatience of moving through airports and new places as a tourist was both highly relatable and amusing. Unfortunately, this actor cannot be named yet as there was neither a program detailing this, nor were their names visible during the bows with the projected writing blocked by the actors on stage.
With no allocated or raised seating, it often meant that those who were not in the front two rows were not able to see anything that happened when actors sat on the stage as views were blocked. While many of the lyrics and niche references may have been entertaining, it was difficult to hear what many of them were as the live band was much louder than most of the performers. In addition to a lack of sound-checking, there were moments in the beginning where the music was not in time with the singers. Thankfully, this dissipated as the show progressed and the performers grew in confidence.
There were even some elements of audience participation, one of which included the narrator encouraging everyone to join in a breakdown of the infamous break-dance. While there was a moment of confusion as to whether we should follow their verbal directions or just mirror them, the chaotic atmosphere certainly suited the performance overall. The chaotic energy certainly followed over into their costumes, from bejewelled Olympic tracksuits, internet trolls in hooded capes, to the narrator suddenly wearing fishnets and underwear instead of pants.
Despite the shoestring budget they were operating on and waiting almost 20 minutes for the show to start after the allocated show time, it was undeniably an entertaining night out.
One man. Hundreds of sound cues. A time-traveling plot. That’s all you really need to know before stepping into Con 2077. That, and that Con Coutis is easily one of the funniest performers you’ll see this Fringe season.
The premise? Delightfully ridiculous. In 2027, a meteor strikes Earth, wiping out every comedian—except one. Fast forward to 2077, when an Arctic researcher stumbles upon the lost art of comedy and resurrects the world’s last comedian from cryosleep: Con Coutis. Now, humanity’s fate rests on one man’s ability to rediscover the joke. No pressure.
From the moment Con springs out from behind the red curtain, he commands the stage with an infectious energy that never lets up. Armed with a few props and an impossible number of sound cues, he masterfully blends stand-up, sketch comedy, and physical performance into a high-octane, laugh-out-loud spectacle. His physicality is next-level—flinging himself across the tent, weaving through the audience, dodging invisible ninja spikes, and racing against time to answer a phantom phone call. Very impressive, and the ease at which he moves in and out is a true skill.
Coutis’s ability to balance the absurd with razor-sharp comedic timing is born from natural talent, creativity and dedication to his craft. His deadpan delivery of high-concept sci-fi lunacy—interwoven with spot-on stand-up about everyday life—creates a perfect contrast. One moment, he’s breaking down the price of safes at Bunnings; the next, he’s deciphering cryptic voice recordings left by past Con for future Con. It’s chaotic, it’s clever, and it’s utterly hilarious.
The show’s technical elements are equally as impressive. The precision of its lighting, sound design, and audio effects make Con 2077 feel like a full-blown theatrical production disguised as stand-up. And when the occasional technical hiccup occurs, Coutis rolls with it so smoothly that the audience is left wondering whether it was planned all along.
The real magic, though, is how effortlessly he connects with his audience. The playful participation feels like goofing around with a friend rather than a spotlight interrogation. It’s a testament to Coutis’ warmth and natural charisma—he makes the ridiculous feel relatable and the surreal feel strangely familiar.
So, can Con save the world with comedy? No spoilers here. But one thing’s for sure: Con 2077 is a wildly original, utterly bonkers, and unmissable ride that will have you laughing out loud and leave you in awe. Coutis delivers innovative, fresh, and thoroughly entertaining content. It needs to be seen to be believed, and I encourage you to get yourself to the BankSA Theatre this week.
