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The Butterfly that Flew into the Rave Summerhall The dancer-choreographer and New Zealander Oli Mathiesen, and dancers Lucy Lynch and Sharvon Mortimer are already dancing as the audience make their way to their seats. The room is darkened. There are coloured lights that occasionally throb with the music. The music is adrenaline-pumping hard techno at full blast – courtesy of Suburban Knight’s Nocturbulous Behaviour album. There is no story or theme – this is an experience! The work is described as an “ode to the past 3-year marathon of losing societal morals and political structure” during the pandemic, a “communal loss of work, time, love, sex, eating, fighting, cleaning, holidaying, sleeping, pashing, drinking, throwing up, everything, physicalised as an artefact of what we as a people have endured”. Essentially this production is three dancers performing detailed choreography to rave music.  For an hour. This is a breathtaking and incredible high intensity feat. It isn’t just moved on repeat but a varied palette of styles. The audience are transfixed, and the youthful energy is infectious.  Do they falter?  Well, that’s part of the point but these dancers just keep moving through the pain. There is something hypnotic about watching physical feats onstage – I guess that’s why we love the Olympics and professional sports that push the body.  It’s even better when we can see it in the theatre. This is a rave where everyone is welcome - While some of the big iconic clubs around the world have dress codes, such as all leather, all black or skimpy or kinky, anyone keen to dance themselves can wear what they like. Mathieson and dancers wear an amalgamation of all dress codes - including fur hats, athleisure, and bras. The music is loud.  They take a few moments to have a drink of water. Conceived during the pandemic, Oli Mathieson says “We were working through lots of emotions while making this work, but most prominently was a hunger and desire to create a work that encompassed a sense of epicenes and also humility. How do we make a work that is so beyond our capabilities that no human feat would be able to achieve it, while still injecting it with heart, camaraderie, passion, and fight? I think these were the emotions or sensations that were distilled from the pandemic. A force of nature that levelled the playing field globally and therefore unified us through our shared losses. We felt the emotional pressure to make a work that represented this sensation accurately.” This show is taking the world by storm – go see it! Reveiw by Kate Gaul

Thanks for Being Here Ontroerend Goed Zoo Southside Belgian theatre-performance-group Ontroerend Goed are a staple for the theatre go-er in Edinburgh every year the company present work. Always intelligent. Always provocative. Always moving. A sure sign is that punters don’t wait for these shows to “warm up”.  Heavily booked for the first performance I was super excited to be at Zoo Southside for this privilege.  As artists we are often/always asked about the audience experience.  What will the audience experience be with this work?  It’s a good focus.  How many times have we sat through artist pitches where the audience is barely mentioned. "Thanks for Being Here" is (almost) entirely about the audience experience and it is a unique, interactive (eek!) theatrical event. It fully embraces the idea that the audience's presence is crucial to the performance and goes on to blur the lines between performer and spectator.  So, what is it?  Once seated in the theatre we are confronted with a huge screen on which we see candid video of the exterior of the theatre. Bringing the outside in is a sort of frame and it is quite beautiful to observe the composition of “real” world from inside the theatre. Eventually the camera is turned on the seated audience. I won’t describe everything that happens because not every show will be the same. This is because audiences are invited to leave suggestions that will shape future. This means that "Thanks for Being Here" can never be the same twice. For example, early in the performance I saw a company member came onto the stage wearing a floor-length hooped skirt without explanation. Much later – when we hear the recorded suggestions of previous audiences – we learn that one audience member wanted to see actors in period costumes. And this is part of the productions power.  Having asked an audience to tell the company what they want to see onstage – and then see it rendered – points to a relationship that is both respectful and reflects an audience’s agency in shaping our theatrical events.  Without judgement we heard from a gentleman who explained the importance of the 16th Century theatre; someone’s need for emotional music; a suggestion that someone from the street is bought into the theatre for us to meet; and a theatre manager’s assurances that this is “his thing” and much more. Some in the audience left early.  It’s possible to feel uncomfortable with the non-consensual nature of the intrusion into our territory on the other side of the footlights, so to speak.  It could be an ethical nightmare if one was to think too deeply about all that.  But "Thanks for Being Here" honours its audience, our shared experience and its good humour is ultimately infectious. Theatre is forever dying in our age of over saturated stimulation – apparently – so this show is a wee thanks for turning up in person to re kindle the communal experience that remembers and reimagines who we are. Review by Kate Gaul

Dancehall Blues CoisCéim  Assembly Dance Base Ireland's dance theatre vanguards, CoisCéim present David Bolger's “Dancehall Blues” as part of Culture Ireland’s Edinburgh Showcase. Nominated for Best Production and Best Design, the show captivated audiences and critics when it premiered to sold-out houses at Dublin Fringe 2024. This “expertly ingenious” (Irish Times) duet unfolds in a surreal dancehall at dusk, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The blurb says, “Two performers dance with fearless abandon, their powerful movements cutting through chaos to ignite hope in a world where dreams and nightmares collide.” CoisCéim (pronounced “kush came”) takes its name from the Irish word for “footstep.” Recognised for its artistic excellence and emotional resonance, CoisCéim’s work embraces a variety of dance styles to “articulate stories and emotions relevant to the landscapes in which we live.” The production begins in a hazy theatre with the two performers (Emily Kilkenny Roddy and Alex O’Neil) dressed in white hazmat suits standing stock still against a slow-motion recording of happy guests at an early twentieth century dancehall.  It’s a dreamy and disturbing juxtaposition. We are launched into a world of Big Brother chaos. A mirror ball dead drops from the ceiling and becomes a pendulum which of course tells us this is something to do with the contemplation of time.  And “Dancehall Blues” does shift in time.   Inspired by the building in which the company make work in Dublin (a former postal sorting office) the scenario shifts to a projection of an interior wall and the work becomes instantly poetic (in a different way) and the dancers shed the white suits for muted casual clothing with a nod to the past. A slanted mirror provides an alternate perspective. The idea of a dancehall – a place where people can connect, can dream, and if only for a moment cast off the woes of the world – is potent. From the program: “With shifting time frames within this work, we examine key moments in the world’s history and try to find patterns of human resilience. The mirrorball that hangs over the floor unites us in this universe, with connection and unity to light, self-expression and spirituality.” Dystopic references are never far away.  Even in this sanctuary we hear offstage voices, distant unsettling noises of riots, perhaps? One is invited to write many stories on this work. “Dancehall Blues” has a strong dance theatre vibe. The performers are captivating.  The evolving “story” is gripping. It has all shades from nightmare to dream. It is the present, the future and a fallen Eden.  I left feeling hopeful. Do not miss this show.  Reveiw by Kate Gaul

Eat the Rich (but maybe not me mates x) Edinburgh Fringe 2023 Pleasance Jade Franks is quite the splash in Edinburgh this year.  Her solo show, “Eat the Rich” tells of her experiences as a working-class Liverpool gal thrust into the world of class privilege when she is accepted as a student onto Cambridge University. Playing in one of the 50 seat bunker venues at Pleasance this is an intimate and reasonably funny hour.  The baby pink desk and stool are an elegant setting with the desk doubling as a place to stash various props and costumes as the story unfolds. Directed by Tatenda Shamiso this is tight production that intelligently uses the space and the actor’s relationship with the audience. Before studying English Literature at Cambridge, Jade Franks worked at a call centre in her home city of Liverpool. Working is important to her, and she finds a position as a cleaner at the beginning of her undergraduate degree, which is – she soon learns – against college rules. Certainly, working and studying simultaneously is an alien concept for her classmates, since they have never wanted for a job or been inclined to earn their own money, but they also treat her as she were from a different planet, mimicking her Scouse accent like “aristocratic parrots” and carrying their MacBook computers without protection in their “flimsy tote bags” without any care or concern for their cost. A rollicking story unfolds around an incident involving a stolen watch. It reveals the inequity of those perceived to be of higher standing, blind to their privilege.  These are folk who will go on to become politicians, even prime ministers making decisions about people of whom they know little and could care less. Around 40 minutes into it I was wondering if beyond the jokes and the well-worn “Educating Rita” vibe whether we were going to get any deeper analysis of social dysfunction, even just some reflection on the price of fitting in. “Eat the Rich” is another semi-confessional monologue that skims the really important stuff. Ultimately this is the story of a smart white woman with a terrible accent who overcomes her challenges to become part of the elite. I never really bought that she would be seen dead with a guy called Hermes wearing a cashmere sweater over his shoulders; that she’s buy a block of Sainsbury cheese to take to a party and that the order of cutlery was complete anathema to her. Jade Franks is a charming and skilled performer. As a writer, I wanted her to dig deeper. Review by Kate Gaul

Consumed – Edinburgh Fringe 2026 Paines Plough, Traverse Theatre   “Consumed” is quite the Edinburgh Fringe Festival darling.  Karis Kelly’s play for four women won the Women’s prize for playwrighting in 2022.  Set amid a family reunion in Northern Ireland it leads to a non-unexpected explosion of repressed emotion, truths and trauma. In a neat box set with a central kitchen table we get a clear idea of the territory before the play begins.   It opens with Eileen (Julia Dearden) a mighty matriarch with a foul mouth and a temper to match whose 90th birthday is celebrated today. Making her way carefully to the table she sits. Eileen is a hilarious larger than life character who is the centre of the drama – cartoonish at times but the intention is for the grotesque to plated at the beginning of this drama given that is ultimately takes us places we could never expect.  There is Gilly (Adrea Irvine) the long-suffering daughter and mother to Jenny (Caoimhe Farren) who returns from London with her daughter Muireann (Muireann Ní Fhaogáin).   Lots of obvious resonances abound, recalling “The Beauty Queen of Leenane” and any other play where mothers are blamed for the trauma inherited by daughters, absent and idolised fathers and personal and political pain. It is well worn territory. To be honest I found it all a bit obvious.  The youngest of the four characters is given text that explains the nature or inheritance – whether it be for the environment, personal eating disorder, relationships. This is a world where every character of a different generation is grappling with things unsaid and unexpressed and that this family represents a bigger history of violence. The production is shouty and shrill and I kept hoping this was going somewhere!   A side note on the design – deceptively straight to begin with but it wittily serves as support for the surface safety of the characters and initial situation (a harmless 90 th  birthday) and what haunts them underneath.  The clutter and realistic action it inspires – especially from Gilly – is powerful. In its detail of clutter, cooking and things past their use by date it throws a shadow over the action.   There is a shocking plot twist which borders on the grand guignol with audible gasps from the audience and the play quickly unravels and lands somewhere quite strange.  From a kitchen table drama, we are propelled into the obviously poetic and ambiguous. I guess this is called subverting our expectations, but it does rather feel we’ve ended up in the wrong play. For now. With more work this play could emerge with a new, fresh take on the family drama.  As it is, it has plenty of meat on its bones but needs more time to marinate!   Review by Kate Gaul

The Bush – Edinburgh Fringe 2025 Alice Mary Cooper Pleasance Courtyard   “The Bush” is an affectionate, informative and funny solo show about the “Battlers of Kelly’s Bush”, a small group of Australian women in the 1970s whose fight to save a patch of bush ground in their Sydney suburb inspired much of the modern environmental movement, including ‘green bans’ where workers refused to work on environmentally unfriendly projects, and the founding of the German Green Party by Peta Kelly. Yeah, and it all started on Sydney! The focus is Kelly’s Bush, an area of land by Sydney’s Parramatta River, that was saved from development by a ‘group of housewives’ (as they were referred to at the time).   Alice Mary Cooper is a skilled clown and performs a multitude of characters – memorably, Margaret Finch a home maker who comes into her own power, Betty James a journalist who inspires her team over cocktails, pineapple hedgehogs, and tennis mornings. In fact, Betty galvanises a dozen or so of her friends into getting the community on side before lobbying politicians, property developers and trades unions.  The social detail is delightful, and we are lovingly transported to an imagined 1970s Australia. The local Battlers are acutely aware that protest is seen as a subversive, left-wing thing done by communists and ‘hairy lesbians’, and for them to be associated with trade unionists is social suicide. What they learn, of course, is that “stronger together” they must join forces with local community no matter what their stripes. The social history is set in the context of the political. In 1970, no one considered heritage or conservation. The idea that things and places had cultural value inside and outside of the country was very new. At first developers threaten the women with unsavoury press, by the end the women threaten the developers.   “The Bush” is gorgeously designed with just enough period elements to support the world of pavlovas, and Tupperware. Cooper’s story telling is all light touch and elegance which underscores her disciplined theatre making.  I particularly liked the transmission of information through jazzercise – humour, facts and an insight into the world of the characters all wrapped up in one smart gesture.   “The Bush” is ultimately a David and Goliath story. These weren’t showy women beating drums but concerned citizens who had a vision for a future and gathered momentum through their passion, strategy and inspiration.  I loved the story, and I loved the integrity of Alice Mary Cooper’s performance.    Review by Kate Gaul

Coriolanus Bell Shakepspeare   Roman general Coriolanus makes his name defeating an enemy army and defending Rome. The Senate nominates him as consul, but he cannot win the people's vote, so he is banished from Rome and allies with his old enemy. He comes to attack Rome, his mother persuades him not to, and his new-found ally kills him for the betrayal. Bell Shakespeare tackle this less well-known play last produced by the company in 1996 with Stephen Berkhoff directing.  Peter Evans – the director of this 2025 version was then the assistant director; outgoing General Manager, Gill Perkins was then ASM. In1996 the production was set in the context of 1930s Fascism. Steven Berkoff’s reimagining of William Shakespeare’s final tragedy brings power to the masses as they turn against their ambitious leader, Coriolanus. This highly physical and meticulously choreographed production was captured in a version live at the Globe in Tokyo and can be watched here.  With a minimalist set design and distinctive use of colour and costume, Berkoff utilises the ensemble to create special effects, props and environments using movement and sounds in this politically charged adaptation. It was a long time ago, but I recall it not being a well-received production. Perhaps it was because Berkhoff was really having a summer holiday or was it because Australian artists and audiences were not familiar with his hybrid style of work. I am a bit of a physical theatre junkie and had loved Berkhoff’s “Coriolanus in Deutschland” – a journal of directing the play in Germany.  Recommended. But I digress. Bell Shakespeare in 2025:  Evans has loosely set this production in Europe in the mid-1990s, following the fall of the Berlin Wall, but it is never explicit.   Parallels are drawn between the political structures of ancient Rome and contemporary global politics. Evans also designs the production with traverse seating with a moving stage. It rolls the length of the room and is striking and effective (if a little overused and usually separate from the scenes which makes this already long play a chunky evening!). The wooden walls of the Neilson Nutshell have the text resonating around us. The occasional white floaty curtains at either end of the traverse soften the scenario. It has a few period details – rotary telephones for example – and the costumes sort of feel 80s/90s but overall, the production never really stakes a claim for its setting and therefore drifts aimlessly in an unfocussed vague past. Ah, that happens a lot with Shakespeare…. It is the stellar cast who carry the evening.  Lead by an outstanding Hazem Shammas as Coriolanus who physically and vocally crafts a performance of the highest order. Coriolanus is a Roman general of aristocratic birth, a deeply proud man of deep integrity and an astounding lack of social skills.   The occasional twee gesture or hand-in-trouser-pocket feel disingenuous and self-conscious in an otherwise inhabited role of intentional thoughts, action and deed.  Peter Carroll is mesmerising as Menenius.  Menenius is an older patrician who serves as counsel to Coriolanus and actively champions his political advancement. Whereas Coriolanus lacks all political finesse, Menenius is a gifted mediator between social classes. Not a movement - whether swift or slow - denies Carroll’s 80 years.  His text is as clear as a cut diamond which perhaps only comes from a lifetime on the stage. Just to witness the technical ease of his entrances and exits is worth the (almost) 3 hrs of the production. Other memorable work comes from the very elegant Marco Chiappi, a robust Anthony Taufa, and a seasoned Suzannah McDonald. Gareth Reeves work resonated strongly in this world of ego-driven politics. Brigid Zengeni creates a sharp and visceral Volumnia in her Bell Shakespeare debut. Matilda Ridgway is a delight as one of the three women on the stage.  Jules Billington opens the play with such robust clarity that I thought – just for a moment – that perhaps we would see Shakespeare presented without the usual binary of male/female and/or the usual gender swapped casting to “even up the numbers”.  But alas no.  More time needs to pass before we can experience a contemporary Shakespeare where our accepted and enlightened understanding of gender, power and the politics of human interaction transcend the binary. The struggle for power, both personal and political, is at the heart of “Coriolanus”. The play explores the dynamics between different political systems and the conflicts that arise when individuals seek power in ways that clash with societal expectations. Shakespeare, as usual, is on the money when it comes to humanity’s struggle with itself.    Review by Kate Gaul Image: Brett Boardman

Tom at the Farm Cena Brazil International at Edinburgh Fringe 2025 In Portuguese with English surtitles   “Tom at the Farm” travels to Edinburgh Fringe from Brazil.  It is an adaptation of a work that has appeared a play “Tom à la Ferme” by French Canadian Michel Marc Bouchard.   In a world unravelling under the weight of macho strongmen and repressive systems, “Tom at the Farm” is a raw, gripping confrontation with the violence of patriarchy and the crisis of masculinity. A grieving lover arrives at the remote farm of his dead lover’s family and discovers silence, denial and a brutal demand to lie. In the mud and blood of the farm – a symbol of family, Church and land – truth becomes dangerous. This is theatre as reckoning. Seductive, volatile, fiercely political, a howl from the margins in a world desperate to silence them. Unforgettable. Sublime theatre.   Brazilian actor Armando Babaioff, deeply affected by the line "homosexuals learn to lie before they learn to love" from Bouchard’s original work, initiated this adaptation. In a country tragically marked by high rates of LGBTQ+ violence, Babaioff compellingly brings the story to a wider audience, stripping away regional specificities to create a universally resonant narrative.   Director Rodrigo Portella’s stripped-back, mud-laden stage (designed by Aurora dos Campos) amplifies the raw emotion, creating a haunting and urgent production. Bouchard himself praised it as "one of the most beautiful and powerful productions of my play." As the audience settle a woman and man unfold a large dark plastic floor cover.  It is marked with dry clay, and dust.  Around the edge of the stage sit black buckets of what we learn are full of water or wet clay. A single light bulb illuminates an opening monologue.   This is Tom. Tom (Armando Babaioff), an urban advertising executive, confronts a brutal reality: his lover’s mother is unaware of her son’s identity, and his savage brother is determined to keep it that secret buried. The simplicity of the elements onstage are complimented by the elegance of the lighting (Tomás Ribas).  When the stage is finally illuminated, we see even rows of the humble par cans bathing the stage in a golden light. Floor lamps change our perspective from time to time and graves; rooms and beds are given shape by shuttered stage lights.   What unfolds is a tense psychological thriller where patriarchy, sensuality, desire, and the dangerous pursuit of truth collide. The utter simplicity of four actors on a large stage with a powerful story and the refined aesthetic create a frightening portrait of humanity.  This is an extraordinary 130 minutes in the theatre and a privileged to have witnessed such grace.   From the company blurb:“More than just a drama about homophobia, “Tom at the Farm” explores themes of systemic control and repression, with the farm serving as a potent symbol of intolerance. Amidst a global rise in populism and political instability, its themes resonate more powerfully than ever. Backed by Brazil’s Ministry of Culture, this production also stands as a significant cultural and political statement, marking a clear departure from the previous administration’s rhetoric and reaffirming Brazil's return to the global cultural stage.”   Review by Kate Gaul

Slugs – Edinburgh Fringe 2025 Red Lecture Theatre Summerhall   “Slugs” created by Canadians Sam Kruger and S E Grummett is billed as a “techno colour acid trip where you’ll meet puppet Joni Mitchell, a two-person horse and all body parts we have. A techno-punk concert, a play, a clown show, a basement puppet nightmare all rolled into one, “Slugs” is about trying to have a good time while the world burns.”   Readers will recall my love of the previous “Creepy Boys”,  so late-night “Slugs” was a no brainer as an early  in the season late-night Ed Fringe treat. You will only see this show at Fringe and it’s easy to understand the cult-like following these artists have. “Slugs” is existentialism and absurdity. Imagine Sartre masticating his essay, spitting it out and then rearranging what has become indecipherable amongst his chews and spit – that’s “Slugs”.  This is sharp edged, smart, challenging.   This, the slugs insist, is a play about nothing.  Dressed in sleeping bags (as slugs) with gaps for heads and arms they wriggle onto the stage. The audience interaction is hilarious especially as they keep insisting that this is a show about noting.  No serious topics. No gender politics, no climate catastrophe, not guns.  Dance to techno music or watch a puppet show, let’s be slugs – lumps of soft squidgy stuff without sentience. When in doubt place big round stick-one eyes on everything to make it cute.   But doing and being nothing is challenging. Misdirection’s of attention abound, and panic ensues – Joni Mitchell enters the mix (she’s Canadian after all!), live inanimation and the aforementioned two headed horse.  As things break down and safety is up for grabs the team use body parts, guns and words and – yes – the situation becomes pointedly political.   “Slugs” deliberately pulls apart the culture of distraction; not always clear what the point is but there is a point. Subject matter ventures into dissection of a society whose fixation on trans ness and that societies propensity for mass shootings.   This is Bursting with ideas, “Slugs” is glorious madness.  It’s ambitious too.  And I loved the DIY aesthetic.  Everything moves so fast it is impossible not to be in awe of the technical feat these two consummate performers attempt.   The team admit this in a niche show. But you will laugh and probably scream (I did), you will reel from comedy to dark darkness.  You will be pleased you stayed up way too late to see this one!   Review by Kate Gaul

The Spare Room Belvoir “The Spare Room’ by Australian novelist Helen Garner is given a stage adaptation by Belvoir Artistic Director Eamon Flack who also directs.  Blessed with an amazing cast headed by Judy Davis this one is sure to draw the crowds – even though its bleak content isn’t particularly fun. Cancer.  Death. And those who care for us at the end. After going through multiple rounds of chemotherapy and radiation, Nicola (Elizabeth Alexander) decides to stay with her old friend Helen (Judy Davis) in Melbourne for three weeks while she undertakes an alternative cancer treatment. From Vitamin C-infused IV drips to sitting naked in “ozone saunas”, these alternative therapies make some unfounded claims about killing the cancer. The three weeks force both Nicola and Helen to go beyond the platitudes and formalities, to confront imminent, untimely death and what it takes to support someone through this final journey.  As one would expect, Judy Davis lights the stage playing Helen Garner’s seemingly unsympathetic narrator, friend, career and confidante. It is abrasive and if you’re looking for poetry this is not the production for you. Life and death are ugly, and we get it in full force here. Elizabeth Alexander plays a surprisingly doddery patient who is all sugar coating – this is part of her defence mechanism as she has become the bed wetting patient of an old and trusted friend. A beaut ensemble fills out the minor roles with Emma Diaz, Alan Dukes and Helen Waterman – their work is clear, crisp and a foil to the more complex portrayals in our main characters here.  The welcome addition of a live musician – cellist Anthea Cotee playing music composed by Steve Francis – adds to the essential live-ness of the event. Although I couldn’t see her from my seat. She is sometimes conducted by Davis to commence an underscore or moment of relief, grief or failure.  This adds to Davis role of friend, narrator, writer and guide. Death of course is a perennial theme of art, particularly theatre as theatre itself becomes a metaphor for life. A perfect antithesis. For some, the theme of death is more important than life itself.  Unlike the poets, Helen Garner doesn’t let the “big themes” do her work. The story and its rendering are deceptively straight forward, and it matters what happens to these “characters”.  Flack and his collaborators have remained true to this eloquent simplicity to provide us with a sobering contemplation of how death enters the life of these women. Preparing a space for one’s own death is different from preparing a space wherein someone else’s death unfolds. Medieval “The Art of Dying” - Ars Moriendi tracts - instructed people on how to “die well”. They also instructed the family and friends of dying people on how to treat them, and in a way, “The Spare Room” is an explication of this idea: how to prepare a space for someone else to spend time dying, not only as a spare room in a house, but also as a mental space in one’s head and life, to accommodate the rage, fear and sadness of a dying person. A middling adaptation from novel to stage and take a stiff drink in with you! Review by Kate Gaul Image: Brett Boardman

Law and Life: Transgender Stories Rebel Theatre Presented as part of the Vivid Ideas program by the community enterprise, Inner City Legal Centre (ICLC), “Law and Life” is a group of five trans storytellers and one ally share their lived experiences navigating gender, identity, legality, and survival. This is community theatre at its best – in all senses of that description.  Katie Green, CEO of the ICLC has lent her heft to the project and it has grown out of the offering of last year – a walking tour which took audiences through iconic areas of the old Kings Cross.  In that event, “Sex Work: A Legal and Social History” each stop on the tour was an invitation for sex workers from the industry both past and present to share their experiences with a curious audience. Inspired by the work of the ICLC, theatre maker Charley Allanah proposed this year’s event.  “Law and Life: Transgender Stories” is a personal storytelling event.  It is neatly crafted with each individual story interspersed with a song or two. As we are told in the blurb “For a lot of trans people, the core of survival in a system stacked against them is creativity—so expect pageantry, song and outside-the-box-and-binary expression. Beyond the camp and colour though, this evening lays bare an important and necessary conversation. We must face up to the discrimination embedded in our culture and law, its human impact and what can be done to create a better, more inclusive world.” So, who do we hear from?  The big draw card for me was Kings Cross legend Vonni of “Les Girls” fame. Vonni’s journey began on Adelaide’s vibrant stages in 1975, where she quickly became a beloved figure in the cabaret and burlesque scenes. By 1978, her talents were captivating audiences with the Melbourne touring show of “Les Girls All Male Revue”. In 1983, Vonni received an invitation to join Sammy Lee's “Les Girls” in Kings Cross, Sydney. She tells her extraordinary story here. Tonight we hear stories of unsolved murders, police corruption, black mail, paddy waggons and assault; of financial and emotional survival. This is Sydney in the 70s and 80s. Looking back its not pretty – and we ask ourselves, what courage did it take to survive?  Weaving in and out of Vonni’s stories we learn from the inimitable activist norrie mAy welby who became the first Australian to be formally recognized as being gender non-specific. She was granted gender neutrality from the Registry for Births Deaths and Marriages in 2010. The litany of court struggles endured, and societal change witnessed makes for compelling testimony. These two community elders remind us of how much has changed from the language they use, the landscape they describe of the last decades of the 20th Century in Australia. And what is not said.  But no struggle is ever over and three younger trans and gender diverse speakers - Kavitha Sivasamy, a founding lawyer and director of Justice Q, a specialist legal service run for and by LGBTQIA+ people out of Melbourne and Jeremy Moineau, actress, advocate and DEI policy maker join Charley Allanah – share their lived experiences. “Law and Life: Transgender Stories” is the door into new conversations, of support and kindness. Theatre doesn’t have to be flash or clever to connect.  As we sat around the metaphorical campfire at the Rebel Theatre last night I was reminded of the human need for connection, community and a little catharsis.  In these uncertain times we - as Allanah says, “…need our allies. We need our families, our friends, and our lovers, and our partners.” Check it out! Review by Kate Gaul

The Anarchy (1138-53) KXT We are told “Theatrical Sabboteurs’ Doppelganster bring their latest, miraculous work about living in dark times, violence, and disorder. In this part shocking anti comedy, part historical folk-horror, part pagan ritual, and part psychical experiment, KXT on Broadway is transformed into a brutal and deadly jousting arena. Death is certain. Loot everything.”  Doppelganster on this occasion is meister Tobias Manderson-Galvin and maiden Kerith Manderson-Galvin. Yes, a brother and sister team to confound expectations, taste and patience. At 2.5 hours we enjoy or endure an interpretation of what is known as The Anarchy – a civil war in England and Normandy between 1138 and 1153, which resulted in a breakdown in law and order. The conflict was a war of succession precipitated by the accidental death of William Adelin (the only legitimate son of Henry I), who drowned in the White Ship disaster of 1120. Henry sought to be succeeded by his daughter, known as Empress Matilda, but was only partially successful in convincing the nobility to support her. On Henry's death in 1135, his nephew Stephen of Blois seized the throne with the help of Stephen's brother Henry of Blois, who was the bishop of Winchester. He was crowned as King Stephen, and his early reign saw fierce fighting with disloyal English barons, rebellious Welsh leaders, and Scottish invaders. Following a major rebellion in the southwest of England, Matilda invaded in 1139 with the help of her half-brother Robert of Gloucester. The conflict was considered particularly destructive, even by the standards of medieval warfare. One chronicler stated that "Christ and his saints were asleep" during the period. Victorian historians coined the term "the Anarchy" because of the widespread chaos, although modern historians have questioned its accuracy. It was good to know this BEFORE I saw the show.  Did it help?  Not really. This is experimental theatre. Lead by the irresistible Tobias running rings as ringleader around the mostly still Kerith the pair intone long complex amplified monologues with the aid of recordings through earpieces.  The writing is historic, imagistic, contemporary and often hard to catch – they speak very fast. I wanted to savour some of the images and description, but our challenge is to keep up. At some point I just let it wash over me.  At times I was transported to the 1980s and the burgeoning Aussie version of the UK punk movement – everything old is new again as they say.  And maybe that is the point – while looking back to an ancient time of civil disobedience we can draw inferences and direct correlation to our own times of global unrest. There’s lots to admire beyond the tumble and jumble of text and sweat.  The high mirrored surface of the setting is striking – edged with those spikes to stop pigeons landing it is at once alluring and scary (a bit like the entire piece!) Kerith is dressed beautifully in black and looks for all the world like a princess trapped in a fable as a chain wearing bald headed punk roves monstrously. The smoke machines, fans, water spray and a leaf blower all have their moments.  Caity Cowan’s lighting is superb, and I love a production that keeps us in darkness then literally dazzles us with artful design. Alongside the mirrored walls of the theatre hang quilted banners – it all feels very Bayeux inspired.  Being a craft lover, I am very impressed with the time and care that went into achieving this hand hewn, high concept work. “The Anarchy” won’t be for everyone and the chairs at KXT are a punish for anything over 50 minutes.  But I love how Doppelgangster sweep into town with their own form of anarchic theatre, wake up the theatrical sleepers of Sydney as we return to our well-made plays. For the feeling you get the morning after I recommend! Review by Kate Gaul Image: Kate Gaul