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RizzieReviews, 2b Gordon Street, Rozelle, Newcastle (2026)

08/09/2026

Behind Their Closed Doors
Written and Produced by Anna Notley

Music and Musical Direction
Analise Wren

Lyrics
Anna Notley and Analise Wren

Directed by Tracey Okeby Lucan

There is a great deal of heart in this new Australian musical offering Behind Their Closed Doors. At its core, the musical explores the unexpected connections that can form between strangers, reminding us that behind our everyday lives, everyone carries their own story.

Through humour, grief, heartbreak and vulnerability, it reveals how moments of genuine connection, compassion and openness can transform even the most difficult of days.

It is also a poignant reminder that the battles we fight are not always those we face externally. Our own inner dialogue can colour the way we see the challenges that beset us, sometimes making them seem far greater than they are or trapping us inside that misery. And while we may not be able to change the circumstances themselves, changing our perspective—and the way we choose to think about them—can open the door to a more hopeful and positive way of seeing the world.

The cast brings a strong sense of humanity to the passengers who share this brief journey, with each performer revealing a distinct story through moments of warmth, humour and vulnerability. To make the ensemble feel even more cohesive, the cast could develop clearer shared reactions as each individual story is revealed.

Freya Moore’s Generation Z 1 is delightful and whimsical, combining strong vocals with a natural connection to the audience. She balances the character’s heartbreak with an appealing lightness, though allowing the emotional shifts beneath the humour to register more fully would add further depth.

Lizzie Tang brings bright energy to Generation Z 2 with a bubbly stage presence, confident movement and a strong contribution to the ensemble. She could develop the character’s individual perspective more clearly, ensuring that her energy remains specific to her unrequited love situation rather than becoming purely generalised enthusiasm. Tang moves beautifully around the stage and worked the choreography with great skill and rhythm.

Aleksandra Ford gives a convincing performance as the Mother, capturing both the practical demands of caring for a baby and the quiet loss of identity that can accompany it. Her expressive face and strong vocals communicate the character’s journey towards rediscovering herself with real sensitivity. Greater variation in physical tension and vocal colour particularly as we first meet her perhaps as a very tired and overworked mother - would help distinguish the different stages of that journey and make the transformation even more apparent.

Jemima Stratton is captivating as Adult 1, with a joyful presence, lyrical voice and excellent audience engagement. Her character would benefit from being more clearly defined, particularly in the quieter moments, so that the audience can understand what lies beneath her outward confidence.

Greg Thornton brings emotional depth to Adult 2, sensitively portraying a son confronting the gradual loss of his father to dementia. His resonant voice and developing emotional arc are particularly effective; more sustained eye contact with the audience when singing would strengthen his connection and give the emotional moments additional weight.

Steve Rowe is beautifully understated as the Older Parent, finding both tenderness and well-judged comedy in his portrayal of a man whose dementia has stripped away many of his social inhibitions. His restraint is compelling and it his bold conversations with complete strangers that transforms this train ride from one of isolation to one of connectedness. He endears himself to the audience and the passengers alike.

Hannah O’Donoghue delivers one of the evening’s most haunting performances as the Person Living with Illness. Her portrayal of emotional numbness and trauma builds towards a beautifully sung, deeply affecting solo that holds the audience completely mesmerised. We learn about her trauma as her solo unfolds and there is no one that doesn’t feel her quiet pain. A stunning performance accompanied by outstanding lighting choices and exemplary direction.

All the creatives including the Director have embraced simplicity to good effect. The stage business is uncluttered and purposeful. The set creates an instantly recognisable train carriage, while the carefully integrated sound effects, announcements and station stops add an engaging sense of authenticity and movement. The evocative lighting is particularly effective, subtly shifting to enhance the mood of individual solos and ensemble numbers and enhances the mood of the scene.

The choreography is similarly uncomplicated but effective, providing just enough movement to support the ensemble numbers without distracting from the storytelling. With further performances, there is every reason to expect the choreography and ensemble work to tighten and gain confidence.

At the heart of the production are music and lyrics that are both engaging and refreshingly unsentimental. We are initially invited into the private struggles and inner thoughts of these seemingly ordinary passengers, before gradually witnessing the connections, understanding and joy they discover in one another. It is this transition from isolation to connection that gives Behind Their Closed Doors its considerable heart and leads the characters to change their perspective- and an expedition to feed the ducks..

There is also an opportunity here for the musical to grow. More dialogue would allow the issues raised and the connections between the passengers to be explored more deeply, while giving the characters greater opportunity to develop beyond the confines of their songs. There is clearly a strong foundation for something very special, and the considerable effort of the creative team is evident throughout. The cast has embraced that work wholeheartedly and done justice to this promising new musical.

Behind Their Closed Doors is playing at The Loading Dock Theatre, Qtopia, Darlinghurst, from 8–12 September as part of Sydney Fringe. So grab your Sydney Fringe tickets, climb aboard- don’t miss this train- it will change your perspective.

Liz Munro

04/09/2026

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
Presented by The Genesian Theatre, Rozelle

Co Directors: Rose Frasca & Roger Gimblett

Set against the stunning backdrop of the Greek island of Cephallonia during World War II, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin is an ambitious story of love, occupation, friendship, betrayal and the enduring resilience of the human spirit. Adapted from Louis de Bernières’ much-loved novel, it is a play that moves between intimate personal relationships and the enormous human cost of war.

At its heart is Pelagia, the strong-willed daughter of Dr Iannis, whose life is turned upside down when Italian forces occupy the island. Her fiancé Mandras leaves to fight, while Italian Captain Antonio Corelli is billeted with the family. What begins with suspicion gradually develops into an unexpected connection between Pelagia and Corelli, complicated by war, divided loyalties and the arrival of the Germans.

This is not an easy story to stage. There are numerous locations, rapid transitions, large-scale battle sequences, multiple characters and a story that moves between tenderness, humour, romance and devastating brutality. This production handles those demands impressively.

The direction is exceptionally good, with entrances and exits carefully executed and individual characters anchored to specific areas of the stage. The staging makes excellent use of a relatively simple set, allowing the story rather than elaborate scenery to dominate. The battle and war sequences are particularly impressive, combining brilliant lighting and sound design to create an atmosphere of genuine danger and chaos. And yes, I noticed that Flipper made yet another appearance at the Genesian — Michael Schell, you devil!

The costumes are another strength. They are evocative and feel authentic, particularly the contrasting Italian and German uniforms, which help establish the shifting political landscape and would undoubtedly have presented their own challenges.

The Performances

David Stewart-Hunter as Dr Iannis gives a grounded and believable performance, bringing a gentle humour and a genuine respect for those around him. There is a lovely understanding of the realities of both life and war, as well as a clear and affectionate relationship with his daughter. His Act 2 monologue is nicely delivered, although his death would benefit from greater dramatic impact.

Isabelle Serafim as Pelagia takes on a significant role that would test any actor, and she rises impressively to the challenge. Feisty, endearing and beautifully clear in her dialogue, Serafim gives Pelagia a wonderful authenticity — including the enviable task of kissing all the boys, which she manages with considerable conviction!

There are moments when her physicality could be smoother and her performance more calmly centred. The letter-writing scenes, in particular, would benefit from greater emotional depth. Yet her final scenes with Corelli are magnificent.

Serafim largely carries Act 1 on her shoulders and, when Act 2 arrives, it is as though she has found her feet completely. Her connection with Corelli is beautifully realised, and the two actors work exceptionally well together. It is a wonderful performance overall, and one that is likely to become even richer as the season progresses.

Maximillian Choma as Mandras, Pelagia’s island love interest, moves confidently around the stage and communicates his emotions effectively through his face. In quieter scenes, however, his voice needs considerably more projection. It is as a war-weary and deeply traumatised soldier that Choma does his best work, revealing the devastating psychological impact of what Mandras has experienced.

Phillipa Coleman as Drosoula effectively captures the overbearing Greek Mama. Her performance is spot-on, displaying a good range of emotions and a strong understanding of the character. There is scope to push that persona even further, adding yet more colour and comic texture to her scenes.

David Newton as Francesco, accompanied by his pet mouse Mario, portrays a soldier completely out of his depth in war. There is something beautifully gentle and caring in his understated relationship with Carlo, and Newton conveys the character’s deep empathy as he comes to the realisation of his love too late. It is a quietly affecting performance.

Gabriel Ja’bar as Velisarios is fantastic. Watching the island street performer transform into the island protector is one of the production’s pleasures. Ja’bar balances Velisarios’s fierce persona with a begrudging affection for his island friends, while his serious demeanour and commanding stage presence make an impression. It may be a relatively small role, but it receives some very big acting.

Matthew Cavagnino as Gunter, the German soldier, offers an interesting portrayal of an occupying force member who has developed friendships with the Greek inhabitants despite his stiff and formal manner. His final scene, when he betrays those very friends, is stunningly played and demonstrates considerable dramatic skill.

Then comes the titular character.

Dimitri Armatas as Captain Corelli does not appear until Act 2, but his arrival immediately lifts the pace and raises the stakes. Armatas brings a subtle, musical and caring quality to Corelli that sits intriguingly at odds with his position as a member of the occupying force.

His physicality as Corelli gradually develops feelings for Pelagia is beautifully nuanced and completely engaging. His pacing is excellent, while his use of eye contact — both with the other performers and occasionally with the audience — creates an intimacy that draws us into the developing relationship. Armatas gives the character warmth without making him sentimental, and his partnership with Serafim becomes one of the production’s greatest strengths.

Brodie Chong as Carlo has the difficult task of bringing the show together as narrator. It is a role that demands considerably more pathos and gravitas, and at times Chong’s dialogue delivery feels somewhat surface-level, with the emotional depth not yet matching the significance of the narration.

However, his death scene is spectacular and reveals exactly what Chong is capable of. It is a powerful performance that suggests the skills are absolutely there; the challenge is to bring that same emotional intensity and depth into the quieter moments of the role.

Hope Selim as the goat, along with her other minor characters, is quite simply a brilliant goat! Her facial expressions and physical movement are wonderfully observed and provide a delightful moment of comic relief.

Annette Calliga as Lemoni brings a joyful characterisation that at times makes you want to quieten her down and at others makes you want to laugh out loud. A slightly less consistently vibrant approach, reserving that energy for specific moments, might create even greater audience engagement. Nevertheless, Lemoni lands well, particularly as we become increasingly fond of her wartime entrepreneurial endeavours.

Alexander Chu and Alain Barseg round out the ensemble with strong supporting performances across a variety of roles, including the numerous death scenes required during the battle sequences. Their contribution helps give the production the scale and momentum necessary for such a demanding story.

A Production of Two Acts

Perhaps the most noticeable aspect of this production is the difference between the two acts.

Act 1 needs the ensemble to lift. With Pelagia carrying much of the dramatic weight, the supporting performances need to provide greater energy, emotional texture and engagement around her. Serafim is doing a considerable amount of the heavy lifting, and the production would benefit from the other characters matching her commitment and intensity.

Act 2, however, is sensational.

The arrival of Corelli changes the dynamic almost immediately, and the production finds a richer emotional rhythm. Relationships deepen, the consequences of war become increasingly devastating and the performances gain greater emotional weight. By the final scenes, the combination of storytelling, acting, sound and lighting is genuinely affecting — and there were certainly moments that brought a tear to the eye.

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin is an ambitious undertaking, and this production demonstrates just how effectively a relatively simple stage can be transformed into an island caught in the crossfire of war. Its greatest achievement is the way it balances the intimate with the epic: personal relationships played out against the machinery of war.

There is still room for some performances to deepen and for Act 1 to find the same emotional confidence that arrives in Act 2. But with strong direction, impressive technical work and a number of genuinely memorable performances, this is a production that builds considerably as it progresses — culminating in an emotionally powerful second act that stays with you long after the final curtain.

Take a trip to the Greek islands and see Captain Corelli’s Mandolin now showing at The Genesian Theatre, Rozelle 4 September to 10 October

Liz Munro

03/09/2026

“Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons” written by Sam Steiner

Presented by Rational Animals at The Dungeon, Newcastle.

Directed by Maddie Baillie

An attempt was made to review this play in 140 words. It was, quite simply, mission impossible.

From the moment we walked into the intimate performance space, there was tension in the air. Two actors were already on stage, engaged in silent tableaux as the audience took their seats. We were early, yet Samantha Lambert as Bernadette and Aoife Gregory as Oliver were already inviting us into their world—without saying a word. Everything was playing out through their faces, their body language and their interaction. It was intriguing, engaging and a very clever way to draw an audience in before the play had even begun.

Sam Steiner’s Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons is built around a deliciously absurd premise: what if the government decided that 140 spoken words a day was enough for each of us? Not 140 words in a text message or email, but 140 words actually spoken aloud.

Suddenly, every “I love you”, every argument, every apology and every seemingly insignificant comment becomes a precious commodity.

At the centre of the play are Bernadette and Oliver, a couple whose relationship is developing just as a new law—the Hush Law—comes into effect. The play moves backwards and forwards through time, showing us their relationship both before and after the legislation. It is not simply the law that changes their circumstances; it exposes and reshapes the relationship itself.

What initially sounds like a quirky romantic comedy becomes a much more insightful exploration of communication, freedom, intimacy and the human need to connect.

And what a job Lambert and Gregory do with it.

From the moment they spoke, both actors were completely engaging. Their connection was palpable and their comfort with each other extraordinary. In such an intimate space, their focus was absorbing, and there was an obvious level of trust between them that allowed the relationship to feel completely authentic.

At times, it genuinely felt as though we were sitting in someone’s lounge room, peeking through a window and witnessing a relationship unfold. That suspension of disbelief is testament to the skill of both performers.

The emotional range was particularly impressive. Anger, love, frustration, confusion, tenderness and humour were all there, with the light and shade beautifully judged. Dialogue could be rapid-fire one moment and deliberately measured the next. Yet the emotional storytelling wasn’t dependent on words. Facial expressions, pauses, physicality and purposeful movement frequently communicated as much as the dialogue.

Indeed, silence becomes one of the most powerful characters in the play.

As the 140-word restriction begins to take hold, we watch Bernadette and Oliver move from relying heavily on verbal communication to discovering other ways of understanding each other. Their relationship is thwarted by the new law, yet somehow they adapt. They negotiate, compromise and find ways to continue developing their connection with their words rationed.

There is something wonderfully poignant in the idea that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

The script could easily have become confusing in the hands of a less assured production. Instead, director Maddie Baillie has created remarkable clarity from an inherently complicated structure. The movement backwards and forwards through time is always easy to follow, with each vignette clearly defined.

The transitions are particularly impressive. Beautifully choreographed and synchronised between the two actors, they allow us to move seamlessly from one moment to another, often without any conventional theatrical signposting. We simply understand that time, place or circumstance has changed.

That takes considerable skill.

Baillie deserves enormous credit for bringing such a sophisticated and complicated script to the stage while allowing Lambert and Gregory to genuinely inhabit their characters. The direction never overwhelms the actors or the writing; instead, it creates the framework in which both can shine.

And then there is the use of space.

The performance area is small, but every inch is utilised. There is no elaborate set competing for our attention and no unnecessary production element. Everything is used sparingly—and it works beautifully.

The lighting is a perfect example. Simple, clever and highly effective, it helps establish the mood and distinguish the various vignettes without ever becoming a distraction. The production understands that sometimes less really is more.

The restraint extends throughout the production. Nothing is superfluous. With the focus firmly on the actors and the words—or lack of them—the audience is left to engage directly with the story and the relationship at its centre.

And what a story.

Steiner’s script is ridiculously clever. Beneath the humour and the absurdity are social metaphors about censorship, free expression and our reliance on language. It makes us consider the extraordinary richness of verbal communication while simultaneously demonstrating that words are not always necessary to communicate.

A look can say everything.

A silence can say even more.

The play is also quietly disturbing. Watching two people attempt to sustain a relationship while their ability to communicate is restricted forces us to consider how we would cope in the same circumstances. How do you express love when you can’t say it? How do you resolve an argument when you have to count every word? And what happens when something as fundamental as conversation suddenly becomes a limited resource?

Yet Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons never loses its humour or its warmth. The emotional highs and lows are beautifully balanced, making the production poignant, entertaining, funny and disturbing—sometimes all at once.

The combination of Samantha Lambert and Aoife Gregory’s nuanced performances, Maddie Baillie’s sophisticated direction, the beautifully intimate space and Steiner’s extraordinarily inventive script is a match made in heaven.

And perhaps the greatest achievement is that, despite all the restrictions placed on its characters, the production itself never feels restricted. Instead, it feels inventive, energetic and alive.

It is also worth acknowledging the achievement of Rational Animals, now only in its third production. To produce theatre of this quality with what appears to be minimal production expenditure is impressive. This is beautifully edgy drama that trusts its actors, its director, its script—and its audience.

Lemons @ 5 (What? Im tired!) A great title for an absolutely bitter and biting performance.

Talk about making lemonade out of lemons.

And as for that 140-word review?

Absolutely impossible.

You have to see this production. It is mesmerizing. On from 3- 6 September 2026

Liz Munro & Ruth Crawley
RizzieReviews

29/08/2026

Shoptalk the Musical
A new Australian Musical

Libretto and Director: Jack Madden
Composer: Imogen Bilinsky
Additional music and arrangements: Page Maitland

It’s not often that one gets the opportunity to review a new Australian musical in development as it takes to the stage for the first time. In this instance, this is perhaps less a traditional review and more a piece of critical feedback—one that considers not only the performances and staging, but the storyline, dialogue, music and lyrics, and how successfully these elements come together theatrically. There is value in doing a little of both, particularly when a new work is still finding its feet.

Let’s not underestimate this offering- putting one’s heart and soul into an original piece, exposing it to an audience for the first time and then actively inviting scrutiny and feedback takes considerable courage. That willingness to take the risk, and to embrace the process of developing new Australian musical theatre, is something to be admired, and we thank Thesperanto Theatre for inviting RizzieReviews to their closing night of this new musical.

Shoptalk the Musical follows a group of retail workers navigating the pressures, absurdities and unexpected camaraderie of life on the shop floor, as they contend with demanding customers, workplace frustrations and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. Along the way, the musical explores themes of friendship, identity, ambition, resilience and the often-overlooked humanity behind everyday service work.

There is much to like about this musical: defined characters, terrific musical numbers and plenty of humour and absurdity. The production moves at a fantastic pace, supported by slick scene changes that keep the action flowing and maintain the energy from one moment to the next. The staging makes great use of the space, including very effective visuals and good lighting and sound that enhances the mood of each scene.

There are also some amazing solo performances, with individual cast members bringing impressive vocal strength, emotional depth and personality to their moments in the spotlight. Equally, the ensemble numbers are strong, harmonious and joyful, creating some of the production’s most infectious and celebratory moments.

This is an ensemble piece, with all characters sharing the spotlight. It is therefore important that their “critical moments” are fully realised. Some of the musical numbers might benefit from greater choreographed movement, especially the “ValueCorps” piece, which had the potential to be a showstopper. Giving each character’s key moments greater emphasis would help ensure that the ensemble feels equally valued and that the production’s strongest dramatic and comic beats land with maximum impact.

The dialogue is witty and engaging, and unashamedly Australian in its humour, rhythm and observations. That distinctive local voice is one of the musical’s greatest strengths, giving the work an appealing sense of authenticity and allowing its characters to feel recognisable. The singing vocals however need to echo the Australian voice as well and the usual American or Transatlantic tones need to go!

At times it was difficult to fully grasp the storylines of each character as a number of actors did not project their dialogue clearly enough and much of what was being said was missed. Stronger vocal projection would help the audience follow the narrative and ensure that the humour and character development land as intended.

The storylines may also benefit from further development. Reuben, played by Jack Madden, has a believable and relatable story arc, providing a strong emotional thread through the piece. Madden also has a great sense of comic timing, which brings additional warmth and humour to Reuben’s moments on stage.

Jacob, played by Jaidyn Arthur, needed to be far more arrogant and charismatic in order to fully realise the humour inherent in his character. Molly, played by Maeve Collins, is similarly engaging as the new girl, although her apparent love story with colleague Natalie (?) played by Chandler Sweet, needs to be brought much further to the front if that is the intention. It was not always clear who Molly was in love with, or how that relationship was meant to develop, and greater clarity would strengthen both characters’ journeys, even if Natalie is oblivious. If this relationship was the intention.. how many same s*x unrequited love stories does one musical need? Perhaps Molly is in love with Jacob and one of the triumphs could be they find each other.

Judith, the difficult customer, is played by Phoebe Moon and needed to be far more overbearing to fully realise the comic potential of the character. Wesley, played by Seb Smee, could, by contrast, be toned down; this feels primarily like a directorial note rather than a criticism of the character itself. Natalie is well drawn, and her storyline is particularly humorous. Sweet’s performance and singing is strong even if the dialogue was at times too low to be heard. Stella from HR, played by Imogen Bilinsky, is another excellent character, portrayed with confidence and clarity. Ingrid, played by Melody Doyle, has a lovely singing voice and beautiful facial expressions, although her performance lacked dynamics and stage presence. Developing greater variation in energy, expression and physical engagement would help all the characters make a stronger impression within the ensemble.

The standout performance belongs to Ashleigh Thresh as Anneleise. She has a strong stage presence, excellent vocal projection, beautifully nuanced dialogue delivery and a killer singing voice. Thresh brings both confidence and detail to the role, making Anneleise immediately compelling whenever she is on stage.

Shoptalk the Musical is an ambitious and spirited new work with a great deal of promise. Its strong ensemble, lively score, distinctly Australian humour and engaging characters provide an excellent foundation. With further development of the storylines, greater clarity in the relationships, fuller realisation of each character’s critical moments, and some attention to choreography, vocal projection and character balance, the musical has the potential to become an even more polished, cohesive and thoroughly entertaining piece of Australian theatre.

Liz Munro & Ruth Crawley

Photography
Talahiva Crofts

20/08/2026

Ride the Cyclone
Presented by Rising Arts

Jarrod Reisinger - Director/Producer
Emma Snellgrove - Musical Director
Ebony Austin - Choreographer

The modern musical is rarely simply “boy meets girl”, nor is it necessarily a case of people suddenly bursting into song for no apparent reason. Ride the Cyclone turns many of those conventions on their head.

This darkly comic and wonderfully quirky musical by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell follows a group of high-school choir students on a day out to an amusement park, where disaster strikes and they perish on the Cyclone roller-coaster. This is no spoiler—the tragedy is revealed at the outset by Karnak, a sideshow mechanical fortune teller, who then presents the teenagers with the chance for one of them to return to the mortal world.

What follows is an entertainingly bizarre competition ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous, as each teenager reveals their story through torch songs, laments, ballads and kitschy pop numbers. There is even a playful musical-theatre nod to Cats, adding another layer to this deliciously unconventional show.

Kay Mae White gives Karnak an uncanny presence, with wonderfully precise mechanical movements and excellent deadpan comic timing. Eva Homola is terrific as the intensely ambitious Ocean, capturing her arrogance and insecurity with equal measure. Louie Cuff is hilarious as the lovelorn Mischa, combining physical comedy, Ukrainian accent and excellent comic timing with a surprisingly moving solo.

Kane McCarthy embraces Noel’s theatricality and bitchy diva persona with great comic flair as the only gay in the school, while Pita Lolohea is a delightful surprise as Ricky, moving from monosyllabic nerd to interplanetary feline bachelor with hilarious commitment. Sophia Laurantus brings warmth and empathy to the overlooked Constance, her expressive face revealing the character’s emotional journey. Xia Lian Wilson is haunting as Jane Doe, her ethereal movement and superb operatic voice creating one of the production’s most memorable performances.

The singing is impressive throughout, particularly the beautiful ensemble harmonies. The live band plays the challenging score with energy and passion, with the drums providing terrific drive and the haunting piano adding emotional depth. The score itself is a wonderfully eclectic mash-up, moving through Mexican mariachi, Russian folk music and balalaika, Parisian cabaret, operetta, with more than a hint of Elvis and Glee Club.

The book and lyrics are wry, topical and suitably smutty, with clever gags and plenty of campery balanced by genuine pathos. It is this ability to shift effortlessly from hilarious to heartfelt that gives the musical its distinctive appeal and this talented cast rides that rollercoaster (oops! Too soon?) with great skill and theatrical instinct.

The direction of this fast-paced, chaotic show is impressive, making excellent use of the entire stage and creating clever movement and transitions. The choreography brings each number to life while reflecting the individual character. Its slightly unpolished quality is actually charming—it feels appropriate for high-school students desperately trying to impress and win the coveted prize.

The set transports us back to a 1970s Luna Park vibe, with broken-down signs, a robotic fortune teller’s booth and a small stage where characters emerge and the backup singers appear. For a Sydney audience, the imagery inevitably evokes the tragic 1979 Ghost Train fire, an association that is difficult to shake and adds an unexpected poignancy to the story. Props and costumes are equally effective, creating an impressively elaborate look for an independent theatre production.

The technical side of opening night is less successful. Lighting needs greater focus and variation, and performers need to find their light more consistently. More seriously, the repeated failure of body microphones makes some dialogue and lyrics difficult to hear. In a musical where the lyrics contain both plot points and some of the best jokes, this matters. When the microphones work, however, the sound is excellent and the band never overwhelms the performers. These are issues that can be addressed, and performers should also be encouraged to rely on the strength of their voices when technology lets them down— speak up and sing out, Louise! (Gypsy). Hopefully this issue is rectified for the remaining performances.

At its heart, Ride the Cyclone asks a difficult question - what makes a life worth saving? Beneath its outrageous humour and theatrical eccentricity is a surprisingly touching exploration of identity, memory, unrealised potential and the desire to be remembered.

There isn’t a cliché in sight in this very effective and quirky production. It is joyous, endearing, hilarious and thoroughly engaging. Get along and discover what is served up in this wonderfully moreish musical menu.

Get to Flightpath Theatre and Ride the Cyclone (don’t bring your cat though)- on for a limited season this weekend!

Liz Munro & Max Frombeau

RizzieReviews

08/09/2026

04/09/2026

03/09/2026

29/08/2026

20/08/2026

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