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
John Frost Crossroads Live. Her Majesty’s Theatre. 22 Mar 2026
What a hoot!
Farce is perhaps the hardest genre in theatre. Timing, timing, timing. Escalating pace. Doors, doors, doors. Cross purposes. This John Frost Crossroads production has it all—brilliantly directed by Luke Joslin—with a mad, moveable feast of a mighty set designed by James Browne.
It is a set with has serious wow factor, rising to the rafters of the stage and abundantly adorned with luscious Old Master artworks. In sections, it slides seamlessly to and fro to reveal (and enable) the many rooms in which the old whodunnit game of Cluedo takes place.
The location is, of course, Boddy Manor. It is ever so posh, as is its staff: French maid, bustling cook, and professional butler.
’Tis he—the latter—who runs the manor and who carries the show. Oh, my. In the form of butler Wadsworth, Grant Piro delivers one of the most vigorously verbose and epically energetic performances in the memory of this very seasoned critic. One becomes exhausted simply watching him and also spellbound by his impeccable line delivery: rapid-fire, with athletic embellishments, and every word superbly enunciated into the bargain. That stylised diction is one of the show’s funniest elements. Move over Noël Coward. The i’s are dotted, every last consonant lands with aplomb. English precision to the proverbial “t”.
The play is based on the Jonathan Lynn screenplay, but the script by Sandy Rustin—with additional material by Hunter Foster and Eric Price—simply bounces along, packed with references for old and young. No corny vaudevillian gag is excluded; there’s plenty of contemporary wit and one-liners to furnish a big mixed audience with mirth to all tastes. And then there’s the physical shtick: fast, furious, and blissfully ludicrous. The cast works extraordinarily hard to execute it.
What a cast—dazzling, the lot of ’em. Where to begin, apart from the priceless Piro? Genevieve Lemon is pitch-perfect as the supercilious Mrs Peacock. Rachael Beck is pert and decidedly dodgy as Mrs White—outranked for dodginess only by David James as Professor Plum, or perhaps Adam Murphy as Colonel Mustard. Dastardly and sus, the lot of them, not excluding Olivia Deeble as the sublimely seductive Miss Scarlett. And Laurence Boxhall—never was there a more compelling portrayal of a retching wretch than his Reverend Green. Add the other players and the stage becomes very busy indeed, with terrific multiple performances throughout.
Cluedo is as classy as it is downright beaut: cheerful, deadly good fun.
And the frocks are utterly fabulous.
Samela Harris
When: 22 Mar to 4 Apr
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Bookings: cluedoplay.com.au
★★★1/2
Adelaide Fringe. Ukiyo at Gluttony. 22 Mar 2026
Serviced is energetic, cheeky, and gloriously committed to the art of the tease—queer male burlesque with a message… somewhere under the glitter. As shirts, kilts, and inhibitions are progressively discarded, the audience obligingly descends into a kind of joyful hysteria. At times, it feels less like “peel[ing] back the layers of masculinity” (quoting the show’s own publicity) and more like peeling off the clothes. It’s difficult to discern whether the show is just bawdy fun or whether there is in fact some point to it. It promises a “love letter to the masculine form,” and the letter is full of promise as almost everything is revealed.
Each routine toys with well-worn masculine archetypes: the blokey tradie, the kilted Scot (yes, we do find out what’s underneath), over-the-top nothing-can-hurt-me male-bravado, and refusal to show emotion. However, Serviced only toys with these issues and doesn’t really develop them into something meaningful. It’s almost a case of don’t blink because you may miss the subtext.
However, there is subtext, and there are two striking examples. One routine sees a performer shedding fem attire, downing a bottle of something, smashing it, and lying on the broken glass. It’s powerful (and very scary) imagery. It shows the transformation from the real to unreal, and the taking of extreme measures to feel truly authentic. The performer is then rescued by others. It’s touching. Society may be unreasonable, but one’s own tribe can be one’s saving grace.
Another highlight features an aerial straps routine set to I’m Just Ken from the Barbie movie, which gives it a special whimsy. Technically, the routine is ordinary—seasoned Fringe audiences will have seen much more ambitious routines—but that’s not the point. The act evokes the loneliness and frustration some men feel in simply being—like fish out of water.
The production ostensibly looks at the pressures of queer identity in a heteronormative world, but itrarely gets out of first gear before driving in a different direction to give another performer the opportunity to get his gear off. (But hey, give the audience what it wants!)
The real highlight of the show is the MC, whose razor-sharp repartee and smoky vocals provide the show’s spine. The MC commands the room with ease, revs the audience up and keeps the show hurtling down a dizzying but largely familiar path.
The audience just loved Serviced . The performers are all high energy entertainers who leave little to the imagination, and they interact with the audience in the most disarming way. You almost want to be engaged by them!
Kym Clayton
When: 10 to 22 Mar
Where: Ukiyo at Gluttony
Bookings: Closed