Famous Last Words. Goodwood Theatre and Studios. 24 Apr 2026. Preview
Phoebe (Virginia Blackwell) is very, very nervous as she sniffs hard, pumping herself up, posting to Instagram photos of her fab house and food for a special housewarming. Stopping, starting again. So hilarious when she can’t pronounce charcuterie, opting for the easy ‘platter’ description. It’s all about the cheese. It’s clear she’s a hardcore influencer.
This is but a hint at an evening to come. Guests to her luxe home, shared with wealthy accountant boyfriend Nick (Daniel Fryar-Calabro), are oldest friend Steph (Emelia Williams), an aged care worker, and boyfriend Michael (Chris Gun), a PhD who works on a factory floor, and is Phoebe’s ex. Nick’s parents own the luxe home. Michael and Phoebe rent.
Director/writer James Watson offers 80 minutes of darkly funny attempts at reconnection, sharp disconnection, and confusion as four different people attempt bridging different lives over a span of changed times—this hell called the housing crisis.
There’s a not-much-used phrase to describe economic life in the 21st Century: “well heeled”. Yet it’s Phoebe and Nick who traverse their home barefoot. Steph and Nick are oldish shoe-shod. A poignant pointer to the underlying insecurity grounding this group, whatever is or isn’t in their wallet.
A nervy, defensive Phoebe attempts re-establishing her friendship with her bestie from the poorer side of town they grew up. Michael struggles valiantly to establish an across-the-social-divide rapport with Nick. None of the four manage this well at all. It’s so dark. So funny as they dance around each other. So sad and shocking as more differences than commonalities emerge.
Regrets. Anger. Entitlement. Opposing beliefs. Lost beliefs, dreams, and senses of identity.
They are broken. Phoebe by her guilts. Michael and Steph by the fact they may lose their rental in a month. Nick by stressed defensiveness of his place in life, hard working to keep Phoebe happy.
As the beer, wine, and whisky flow, political points are made, ideological demarcations established. It becomes clear there are no solutions they see—each yelling into the void of their fears.
This lack of solution is key to Watson’s script. The lack of awareness to seek them. Instead, it’s division upon division obscuring any hope of unity to solve a crisis. When you’re living in hell, it’s hard to find means of escape.
Watson moves the production across the traverse stage set with grand precision, accentuating a powerful, snappy ‘he said, she said’ neck-turning experience.
Oscar Sarre’s score brilliantly uses songs across time of pop culture eras to date the four’s varying relationships, adding extra dimensional depth to the production. Steven Dury’s lighting is sharp and basic, delineating space and powerfully leveraging onstage tension.
Watson’s cast are a magnificent ensemble of varying shades of temperament, vulnerability, regret, and loss, played with impeccable timing and depth of honest truth.
David O’Brien
When: 24 Apr to 2 May
Where: Goodwood Theatre and Studios
Bookings: humanitix.com
Pitchwhite Productions. The Studio, Holden Street Theatres. 15 Apr 2026
Pitchwhite Production’s presentation of Lochie Daniel’s “original, boundary pushing play” is an ambitious undertaking, particularly within a community theatre context, however the potential is glaringly obvious.
Daniel’s premise for thematic exploration is sound: “the causation of emotional… uncertainties.” Conflict of this kind is always rich material and the basis of many great dramatic pieces. The play draws its title from the interaction between people’s responses to the sudden and mysterious appearance of an otherworldly rock somewhere outside Alice Springs and how those responses shape their interactions with one another. As Daniel’s explains in the program notes, “the limbic system is a function of human intelligence that regulates our behavioural and emotional responses to stimulus,” and it is in the exploration of this utilising the rock that the work finds much of its intrigue. A device necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters yet ultimately insignificant in itself. Great work so far.
Gracie Greenrod, Holly Hasting and Isiah Macaspac, all versatile rising talents, were tasked with playing something in the vicinity of sixty characters between them. A mammoth task for any cast.
The set, with no design attribution, was simple but very effective: the monolithic centrepiece convincingly powerful, bordered by four staggered flats which ultimately proved to be highly effective AV screens. AV, sound, and lighting while capably designed were the production’s Achilles heel.
Unfortunately, opening night of A Rock in the Limbus was beset by a perfect storm of events that would have shaken even the most experienced cast. Holly Hasting was knocked out of the production on the day by a concussion, resulting in the marvellously talented Ariel Dzino being contacted en route to the show on the bus to read her roles. Challenging enough. However, the tech operator Ritwik Kalra was also called away to attend an emergency, leaving a very complex technical schedule to be managed by someone else. It was a perfect storm that would have crushed lesser beings.
But the show must go on. And it did.
The technical disaster that unfolded was dealt with admirably and with stoic professionalism by the cast. However, it soon became evident that the tech situation was not going to improve and Daniel wisely called a pause while matters were sorted out. After some time the show resumed and having regained momentum began to reveal the promise it clearly holds.
Greenrod was notable for her stage presence, versatility and intelligent interpretation of text, while Macaspac demonstrated a dazzling range of personas. Dzino was simply remarkable. Script in hand her first read of the play became a “moved read,” one approaching the standard of a polished performance.
This fine cast explored the vagaries of human emotion capably through a series of well written, if somewhat loosely directed, vignettes focused around the mysterious monolith: a catalyst for fundraising barbecues, scientific investigation, relationship and friendship turmoil. Intermission left me curious and excited for what was to come.
However, Daniel made the tough call that given the technical complexity of Act Two it would be prudent to cancel. This was unfortunate and I can’t help but wonder with hope whether this capable cast might have pulled it off without all the technical bells and whistles.
But that remains as mysterious as the monolith at the centre of this potentially fine piece of theatre.
John Doherty
When: 15 to 18 Apr
Where: The Studio, Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: Closed
State Theatre Company South Australia presents a Sydney Theatre Company production. Dunstan Playhouse. 15 Apr 2026
The publicity is correct.
RBG is a masterwork performed by a consummate pro and presented with impeccable production values.
Heather Mitchell seals her reputation as one of the finest actresses in the land.
In the role of a celebrated/notorious USA Supreme Court judge she delivers a tour de force.
And, she has been doing it for years.
This Sydney Theatre Company work has been around for a very long time and has just made its way to Adelaide where, unsurprisingly with the city’s discerning audiences, it is drawing packed houses and standing ovations.
Ruth Bader Ginsberg merits our attention not only because of her achievements as the second women to make it to the US Supreme Court but also because, amid her landmark decisions on gender equality, she insisted on standing by the letter of the law, which defined a judge’s position on that elite bench as “for life”.
She refused to retire while she decreed her brain was still sharp. That was despite President Barack Obama’s clear message that it would be advisable for her to have retired while a Democrat president presided with the authority to appoint a Judge of Democrat sensibilities.
We must remember that America’s jurisprudence is, indeed, a partly political phenomenon. Her refusal to step down at that pivotal time resulted in a Trump appointee - and the Trump Republican movement having the numbers to attain supreme power over the justice system. Thus did she cement the MAGA dominance which represented the antithesis of everything she stood for - resulting in a warfaring, spite-fuelled administration which now is largely perceived as undermining the economic stability of the world. In other words, she knowingly put legal authority into the hands of a politician she openly despised. Her hubris helped to throw world peace under the bus.
If Suzie Miller has done a good job with the script, traversing RBG’s phases of age, experience and political heft, Heather Mitchell has pinned every aspect and every moment not only with a monumentally effective vocal delivery but with a moveable feast of physical age-shifting, so artful it would have the great Alec Guinness tipping his cap.
And Miller has added dimensions perchance new to many of us, levelling RBG’s adamant feminism with deep and appreciative love towards Marty, her husband and solid career support. Without him, there would be no RBG story to tell.
Priscilla Jackman’s perceptive direction underscores the classiness of this show which, albeit describing law cases and political stances, never palls for a moment. Rat-a-tat attention-grabbing. While also, the lighting, the deft stage magic, the presence of women helpers (acknowledged stage crew), the surtitles of timelines and case names draw the knot on the ribbon of excellence which surrounds this work.
Brava all round. Brava, Brava, Brava.
Samela Harris
When: 15 Apr to 2 May
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: statetheatrecomany.com.au
Jonathan Biggins. Therry Theatre. The Arts Theatre. 10 Apr 2026
Like Australia Day itself, even the premiere date of Jonathan Biggins’ Australia Day is a matter of mild contention. Some commentaries place its first staging with Sydney Theatre Company at the Drama Theatre on 11 August 2012; others record a co‑production between STC and Melbourne Theatre Company opening at the Arts Centre Melbourne earlier that year, on 21 April.
The discrepancy feels oddly appropriate.
This is, after all, a play about a national day that has not always been observed on 26 January, a date selected less for symbolism than for administrative convenience. The agreement to standardise the date across states and territories was reached in 1935, a bureaucratic solution to inconsistency. Three years later, on that same date, First Nations leaders marked the 150th anniversary of settlement with the first Day of Mourning protest, reframing celebration as grief and resistance.
It is precisely within these fractures between intention and consequence, administration and experience that Biggins’ satirical strength is found. Beneath the official language of agendas and procedures, grievances, loyalties, camaraderie, pride and shame bubble away, unresolved and largely undiscussed.
In the fictional town of Makaratta, six committee members gather in a Scout Hall on a winter night to plan the annual Australia Day celebrations.
Gary Anderson’s set design instantly takes us to this place somewhere in Australia’s vast oonawoopwoop, close enough to a major centre to feel connected, far enough away to believe it knows itself better than anyone else ever could. The Scout Hall, Queen Liz above the door, the movements founder Baden-Powell glaring from a portrait on the wall, and a pinboard replete with notices, is presented in tones of mustard and beige reflective of the committee as microcosm of this place.
Directed by the inimitable Jude Hines, a veritable theatre veteran, Therry Theatre’s choice to stage Australia Day for its Adelaide premier is a brave and bold choice. Hine’s deft direction guides the six characters along their journey well.
There’s Brian Harrigan, the mayor and chair, played by Stephen Bills, impeccably suited and already rehearsing for pre‑selection as a Liberal candidate. Brian speaks in the tone of consensus while maneuvering relentlessly toward his goal. There’s a familiar blend of geniality and ambition. Harrigan is the sort of local politician who insists he’s ‘just being practical’ while quietly sharpening the knives. Bills plays him well but does occasionally fall into a vocal rhythm not in keeping with situation.
Adam Schultz’s Robert Wilson, deputy mayor and lifelong mate, offers loyalty where judgment might otherwise intrude. He’s the sort of man who goes along not because he agrees, but because disagreement would be uncomfortable. Schulz plays him with a weary affability which, particularly during Act 1, needs to adjust to observe pace.
Then there are the old hands. Wally Stewart, a builder and developer, fifteen years on the committee, played by Steve Kidd OAM with brutal conviction. In singlet, shorts and thongs, Wally is blunt, combative, and nostalgic for a version of Australia that conveniently excludes anyone who arrived later than he did. Kidd doesn’t soften Wally, nor does he caricature him. The racism, misogyny and bile emerge not as theatrical shocks but as things Wally has always believed and merely speaks aloud now. He’s a bloke many of us know!
Kristina Kidd’s Maree Bucknell, president of the local CWA, operates in the middle ground of goodwill without authority. Maree brings the reassurance that it will all somehow work out. She wants harmony without confronting the reason harmony no longer comes easily. Kidds’ is a quietly tragic performance. Again, many of us know this woman.
Into this ecosystem arrive the newcomers. Michele Kelsey’s Helen McInnes, a Greens councilor “newly” arrived from Melbourne, asks the questions no one wants asked. Who is this celebration actually for? Who feels welcome? Kelsey plays Helen with restraint which offsets Biggin’s capture of the seemingly righteous tone of many Greens, which makes the resistance she encounters all the more revealing.
Ollie Xu’s Chester Lee, a primary school teacher liaising between the committee and local school, is outwardly cheerful, quick with humour, and acutely aware of how precarious his position is. Xu finds the balance between levity and calculation perfectly. Chester jokes not because he doesn’t understand what’s happening, but because he understands it all too well.
The first act unfolds with each exchange revealing another fracture in the committee’s sense of shared purpose. By the second act, on Australia Day itself, the sausage sizzle becomes a kind of frontline where the conflicts have nowhere to hide.
What Biggins does so well is resist the temptation to provide answers. There are no tidy resolutions here. No enlightened consensus. Simply people, beliefs, histories and silences colliding in broad daylight.
The laughter comes easily, and, with recognition of ourselves and those we know, often comes uncomfortably. Biggins understands that the real danger of Australia Day isn’t that it provokes argument, it’s that we continue to have the same arguments every year, convinced they’re somehow new or closer to resolution.
Therry Theatre’s bold decision to stage Australia Day is not just timely at this time when international interests influence domestic narratives around events that challenge our tenuous identity; it’s telling. This is not a play about changing the date. It’s a play about who gets to decide what the date means, who has been excluded from that decision all along, and who controls the larger narrative. And like Australia Day itself, the play leaves us with no certainty only the uncomfortable knowledge that the administration of unity has never been the same thing as unity itself. Exploring such things is what good theatre is about!
Go! See it!
John Doherty
When: 8 to 18 Apr
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
★★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. David Salter & Matthew Liersch. The Yurt at The Courtyard of Curiosities. 22 Mar 2026
The Yurt at The Courtyard of Curiosities at the Migration Museum was the stage for a curious act indeed. With a straight face on his beard-bedecked visage of kindness and caring, children’s theatre entertainer David Salter convinces us he’s about to conduct an interview with a Dame Granny Smith. The reputation of this show precedes it—it won the Frank Ford Award in 2024 and Adelaide Fringe Best Overall Variety Award in 2025. So it’s no secret – well, maybe this is a spoiler alert, I don’t know—that Dame Granny Smith is actually a bright green Granny Smith. It was as if Dame Edna Everage came back as an apple.
To say that this is simply a ventriloquist act would be as unkind as a Texan reviewer I heard report that Dame Edna was a transvestite act. Salter and his palm or pomme puppet are an incredible pear. They will have you in peals of laughter. Unlike her fruit namesake, which is crisp and tart, this Dame is crusty yet ripe. Salter gets her to recount her showbiz career from the orchard to the stage. Salter’s warmth and empathy gets the best of his guest. With the assistance of some clever stagecraft, the interview evolves in a magical way towards a reveal of what’s really going on ‘cause apples ain’t apples in the end.
Salter is the most easy-going unrushed and accomplished ventriloquist I’ve seen, and I’m no-one’s dummy. Don’t waste your time trying to see his lips move. Concentrate on the story and enjoy. It’s as sweet as apple pie.
I believe he’s returning next year. I wouldn’t miss it.
Bravo!
David Grybowski
When: 20 Feb to 22 Mar
Where: The Yurt at The Courtyard of Curiosities
Bookings: Closed