Dean, Don't Dance - Old Fitz Theatre

Dean, Don’t Dance

Old Fitz Theatre

At Old Fitz Theatre, Dean, Don’t Dance! presents itself as a hybrid of solo musical, autobiographical monologue, and access-led performance experiment. Written and performed by Dean Nash, the work centres on Nash’s experience as an actor with cerebral palsy navigating an industry - and a form - structured around physical conformity. The result is a show that is personable and articulate, if not always theatrically economical.

The premise is stated plainly: there are only two kinds of people in the world - disabled people and pre-disabled people. Nash positions himself as simply “ahead of the f#ckin curve,” and frames disability not as anomaly but inevitability. From there, he turns to musical theatre, a form he clearly loves, as the site of an ongoing conflict. Audition rooms, and particularly dance calls, become emblematic of an industry that quietly but consistently reinforces ideas about which bodies belong.

Nash’s performance style is conversational and direct. He moves between anecdote, commentary, and song with ease, drawing on stories from auditions, theatre training, and nightlife. Humour does much of the work, often deployed to disarm before more pointed observations about internalised ableism and social expectation emerge. The jokes are generally effective, though the rhythm of the piece can feel predictable, with ideas returning before they have shifted or deepened.

The show’s aesthetic is deliberately rough-edged. Original songs are paired with intentionally crude video projected material that underscore the work’s refusal of polish. At times, this serves the material well, aligning form with content. At others, it risks flattening nuance, particularly when visual and musical elements operate primarily as reinforcement rather than expansion of the central argument.

Where Dean, Don’t Dance! is most distinct is in its integration of access into the dramaturgy. Audio description and Auslan interpretation are embedded into the performance rather than appended as separate services. This approach reframes accessibility as a compositional choice, altering how the audience experience and who the work assumes is present in the room. The descriptions are occasionally playful, occasionally literal, but consistently foregrounded as part of the theatrical language.

Thematically, Dean, Don’t Dance! returns repeatedly to the distinction between self-perception and social choreography: how identity is shaped not only by internal desire but by the roles bodies are permitted to play. Musical theatre functions less as satire than as case study, a familiar form used to expose structural assumptions about ability, virtuosity, and visibility.

While the piece clearly aims to provoke conversation around ableism, microaggressions, and attitudinal barriers, it is most effective when it resists overt instruction. The show is strongest when it trusts the specificity of Nash’s experience to carry its implications, rather than framing that experience as representative or exemplary.

Dean, Don’t Dance! does not fully resolve the tension between performance, explanation, and advocacy, but it is thoughtful about the questions it raises. At the Old Fitz, it reads as a work still negotiating its form, but one with a clear point of view and a willingness to examine how theatre itself participates in exclusion. It is a show that insists on being seen, not as inspiration or exception, but as part of the broader ecology of contemporary performance.

I attended the preview performance.

Review by Kate Gaul