The best shows to see on Sydney stages this week

The genre-defying, multi-award-winning, smash-hit Broadway sensation, Hadestown has finally made its way down to Sydneytown – and it’s unlike any musical you’ve ever seen or heard. With industrial steampunk aesthetics, a soulful jazz-folk fusion, and even a comment on our dying world, this is a brave new world for musical theatre. The Down Under debut of Hadestown opened at the Theatre Royal Sydney to a ready-made fanbase. There’s a lot of hype surrounding this show – the Broadway production picked up eight Tony Awards (including Best Musical for 2019) and still plays to packed houses today, and there’s also the highly successful West End production and the North American tour.  An incisive adaptation of the age-old myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, Hadestown is the brainchild of indie-folk musician Anaïs Mitchell (with very clear influences from Justin Vernon, aka Bon Iver, who appeared on the 2010 studio album). It started its life as a song cycle, and then a studio album, and now it’s a fully-formed stage musical with a dedicated international following. Hadestown is a spectacular challenge to what we think a musical is and can be Like many fans, I discovered Hadestown via the studio album and the Broadway recording. With such a strong, atmospheric tone, the music doesn’t even need visuals to shine – featuring everything from chugging vocal sounds, deep growling singing, floating falsettos, muted trombones, a train whistle, and heavy acoustic guitars. Hadestown is the...

If you’re of a certain age, you have history (HIStory, perhaps?) with Michael Jackson. I remember getting ‘Thriller’ on cassette as a kid. ‘Dangerous’ was one of the first CDs I ever owned. I remember seeing the extended music video for ‘Thriller’ on VHS, which came packaged with a behind-the-scenes documentary. One woman, cornered for a quick vox pop at one of the filming locations, asserted that she loved Jackson because he was “down to earth”, which is darkly hilarious in hindsight.  Down to earth? The press called him “wacko Jacko” – we all did. He slept in a hyperbaric chamber. He owned the Elephant Man’s skeleton. His skin kept getting paler, his nose thinner. What a weird guy! Was any of it true? Hard to say. Even today, when a careless tweet is like a drop of blood in a shark tank to fans and journos alike, the media furor around Michael Jackson stands as one of the most frenetic in living memory, eclipsing the likes of Beatlemania. Jackson wasn’t bigger than God, he was God to a lot of people – the King of Pop, the first Black artist to smash through the MTV colour barrier, an artist, an icon, a living legend. Then came the allegations of child sexual abuse, which first began in August 1993, and continue to this day. For those who were still on the fence, the documentary Leaving Neverland, released in 2019, saw many more fans abandon Jackson, who died in 2009 at the age of 50. And so, it makes sense that MJ the Musical would set Jackson’s relationship with the...

Call it “One Flew Over the Old Bird’s Nest”, if you like. Following its hugely successful debut with Melbourne Theatre Company in 2023, veteran comedian and Working Dog mainstay Tom Gleisner’s (The Castle, ABC television's Utopia) catchy new musical comedy set in a nursing home (and seasoned with a dash of tears, as expected) is now Sydney Theatre Company’s latest and very welcome offering. Directed by Dean Bryant (Dear Evan Hansen) with music by Katie Weston, Bloom is an across-the-board crowd-pleaser, the kind of popular four-quadrant gem that’s almost impossible to dislike. It even has a few pointed comments to make about the fraught state of aged care in Australia, but these never overwhelm the palpable sense of fun. What more could you want? We get two fish out of water (or Randle McMurphys, if you will) for the price of one here, both arriving at the understaffed, underfunded (and, as it eventuates, underestimated) Pine Grove Aged Care facility on the same day. One is new resident (or possibly inmate?) Rose (played by Evelyn Krape, reprising her role from the Melbourne run) – a feisty-to-the-point-of-prickly old dame, age has not wearied Rose, but it did lead to an accidental fire that made her an unwilling candidate for permanent care. The other is stoner/slacker/music student Finn (Sloan Sudiro), who was drawn here by the promise of a free room and board in exchange for some light duties. The duties turn out to be anything but light, as the frazzled staff –...

Friendship is at the heart of Big Girls Don’t Cry, a gorgeous slice-of-life drama that takes us back to 1960s Redfern, where three young Aboriginal women are gearing up for the biggest night of the year – the Deb Ball. Playwright and star Dalara Williams balances the bitter and the sweet in this engaging rom-com-inflected drama. As Cheryl (Williams), Queenie (Megan Wilding) and Lulu (Stephanie Somerville) navigate life’s ups and downs, audiences at Belvoir St Theatre are gifted with an all-too-rarely seen window into Blak sisterhood. While for these women, injustice may tarnish everything from going to work to walking the streets, where racist cops roam – nothing in the world can shake the sacred joy of a trio of girlfriends gathered in a bedroom and getting ready for a night out, tearing through outfit options and gossiping. Not even Cheryl’s concern for her beloved Michael (Mathew Cooper), who’s serving in Vietnam. However, could the distracting pull of the charming Milo (Nic English) be strong enough to tear her away from re-reading the same old love letters?  Inspired by her grandmothers’ stories and snapshots of history found in family photo albums, Williams has crafted an uplifting and entertaining drama that also doesn’t shy away from the violence and injustices of our all-too-recent history, and prompts us to question how much has really changed. Big Girls is not necessarily ground-breaking in its form, and it needn’t be, especially with a cast this good. Dalara...

As the audience enters the downstairs space at Belvoir St Theatre for the premiere of Snakeface, our eyes are immediately drawn to a large, pale rectangular object in the centre of the stage – whispers are exchanged, questioning what exactly it is. There is a black screen at the back of the stage, thin web-like material hangs from the lighting rigs, and a person (who we assume to be the titular Snakeface) is crouched to the right of the screen, shifting every few seconds from left to right.  This new one-person show presented by Fruit Box Theatre (Back to Birdy, Cruise) draws on the legend of Medusa, the famous snake-haired monster figure from Greek mythology, to tell a modern story of self discovery that grapples with overcoming sexual trauma, and the beauty and brutality of moving through white Australia in a queer Black body. Despite the heavy themes, writer/performer Aliyah Knight and director Bernadette Fam are able to balance elements light and dark well. The audience goes on a journey with Snakeface, a freshly dumped 23-year-old, as she rampages through the queer clubs and art studios of a slightly surreal Sydney, recounting relatably awkward high school experiences, and falling in love with her teenage bestie (an experience that’s all too relatable for those of us who grew up questioning our sexuality).  ...beautifully poetic, dancing steadily through the heavy moments as well as the lighter parts of the story Knight gives an incredibly powerful and emotive...

Just over a decade since it was last seen in Australia, Annie is back – bursting onto the Capitol Theatre stage filled with optimism, joy, and hope. Director Karen Mortimer revives this quintessential piece of musical theatre with a sentimental production that preserves the charm and flair found in Thomas Meehan’s book. For those living under a rock (mainly me), this Tony Award-winning musical follows the story of 11-year-old Annie, who is growing up in an orphanage in 1930s New York, under the cruel eye of Miss Hannigan. In the midst of the Great Depression, pessimism is all around, but chipper young Annie has the antidote: hope. Encouraging others to believe that “the sun will come out tomorrow”, Annie’s enduringly positive spirit seems to finally pay off, when billionaire Oliver Warbucks chooses to take her in for two weeks over Christmas. Four spirited young performers share the titular role in this production, alongside an alternating cast of child actors. On opening night, Dakota Chanel’s Annie is a ray of sunshine, fully embodying the doe-eyed optimism of the character, balancing warmth and comedy with the more tender and emotional segments. The whole ensemble of “orphans” share an incredible chemistry, which is strongly on display in their performance of ‘It’s The Hard Knock Life’. The stakes are high when it comes to such a well-known and well-loved song, but this ensemble more than meets the challenge with a passionate and committed performance.  Annie is the...

Ah, the Titanic. An unsinkable cultural icon, the “Ship of Dreams” has appeared in almost as many movies and stage productions as the songs of Canada’s queen of the power ballad, Céline Dion. It’s even got a two-and-a-half-hour (surprisingly serious) movie musical adaptation based on Maury Yeston’s Titanic: the Musical. Although, none can hold a candle to the cultural impact of James Cameron’s 1997 blockbuster – you know, the one with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. So, with nostalgia being such hot property right now, it was only a matter of time before we got the camp-as-hell musical fantasia made-for-and-by-the-gays that is Titanique. Created by Marla Mindelle (who originated the role of Céline Dion – well, as imagined in this show), Constantine Rousouli (who originated the role of Jack) and director Tye Blue (whose countless industry credits include working on the casting team of RuPaul’s Drag Race), Titanique is revisionist history at its best. Loaded with Céline Dion’s greatest bangers, it casts Queen Dion herself (played so wonderfully by cabaret legend Marney McQueen here in Aus) as the narrator of the tragic tale, who continuously places herself at the center of the action – quite literally – much to Jack and Rose’s repeated dismay. It brings the campness of the film to the front, with Stephen Anderson (Mary Poppins) playing Rose’s awful mother Ruth (complete with a bird’s nest headpiece), and Abu Kebe (Choirboy) playing a brilliant, tear-jerking drag parody...

Arguably, Ensemble Theatre’s production of Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie deserves a better audience than it got on opening night.  At a key point in the play, well-meaning faded golden boy Jim O’Connor (Tom Rodgers) accidentally breaks a tiny glass unicorn, part of the titular collection of knick-knacks that shy, anxious Laura Wingfield (Bridie McKim) is obsessed with.  It’s a moment laden with meaning and pathos. Laura – who was left with a limp by a childhood illness, and is so shy and awkward that she dropped out of secretary school rather than face day after day of simply sitting in class with other people – is finally, tentatively, making a connection with Jim, her high school crush. Unbeknownst to her, the future of her family depends on this connection. The meeting has been engineered by her younger brother, Tom (Danny Ball), and mother, Amanda (Blazey Best). Marrying off Laura will free Tom, who works in a shoe warehouse to support the family, to run off and find the adventure he craves in the merchant marines. It will also elevate Amanda from the crushing poverty she’s endured since her estranged husband, whose faded photo dominates the stark set, ran off years ago.  But Laura is far too fragile for such a burden – she’s as delicate as the glass unicorn that Jim so carelessly crushes. And the quiet, crystal moment in the aftermath of that tiny, terrible accident was itself shattered when some halfwit in the first few rows stage-whispered, clear as a bell...