Theatre and musicals in Melbourne this week

Snakes have curled their way around mythology for millennia. Present in countless creation stories from Egyptian, Greek and Indian to Norse and First Nations cultures (including the Rainbow Serpent), the loaded symbolism of this coiled creature clasping its tail between its fangs – the ouroboros – evokes eternity.  Sometimes the serpent holds the world together. Other times, it’s a constricting chaos agent. Either way, the fireside nature of myths, oft-shared in storytelling sessions spun under the stars, is inherently unending, melding anew with each retelling. Tackled by everyone from Roman poets Virgil and Ovid to Canadian indie rockers Arcade Fire and Katee Robert’s queered novel, Midnight Ruin, the myth of Eurydice and her Orpheus finds new life in the hands of folk singer-songwriter Anaïs Mitchell. Her eight Tony Award-winning smash-hit musical Hadestown began life as a sung-through community project before she turned it into a concept album, and then a Broadway smash with help from director Rachel Chavkin. In most Greek tales, Eurydice and her Orpheus are happily married, torn apart by a cruel twist of fate: a viper’s bite (sometimes while pursued by toxic dudebro Aristaeus), not even a malicious god in disguise. As she fades into the Underworld, ruled over by Hades and his niece/abducted wife Persephone (!!!), a desolate Orpheus, son of a musical muse, plays his lyre like her life depends on it. Descending into the abyss and crossing the River Styx, he makes a...

Imagine The Rocky Horror Picture Show’s Frank-N-Furter raised in the American Midwest by Vivienne Westwood. Or Debbie Harry, if she grew up in a queer bathhouse in East Berlin. That’s Hedwig Schmidt: the glam-rock heart of Stephen Trask and John Cameron Mitchell’s Hedwig and the Angry Inch, brought to spectacular life in the first Aussie revival since 2006. You have to picture this show as it began – in a sweaty basement club called the SqueezeBox during New York’s punk scene in 1994. This was a place where a house band performed rock tunes called “the music of gay bashers”, and punters put on messy drag to kick, scream and vamp on stage beside them. Hedwig was born out of this energy; a combination of cigarette ash, anarchism and smut inspired by Cameron Mitchell’s life in Berlin and Kansas and soundtracked by Trask’s work with the SqueezeBox band. It’s the closest I’ve come to calling a musical ‘punk’ without rolling my eyes. With its taboo-flouting lead and the unbridled chaos of its style, it is still as genuinely transgressive as it was thirty years ago.  This production succeeds by replicating the intimacy and anger that created the show in the first place. We’re somewhere in the Midwest waiting for Hedwig to start a 90-minute cabaret performance accompanied by her band, the Inch. The set (by Jeremy Allen) evokes an industrial warehouse and a dive-bar in one: think a simple circular rise centre stage with a staircase at the back furnished with cooly metallic...

Way back when Tim Burton was a much weirder filmmaker, my wee brother and I were unreasonably thrilled by the chaos engine of awfully bad behaviour that was Michael Keaton’s unhinged and unwashed demon, Betelgeuse.  The grotty stripe-suited monster ate up the 1988 film of not quite the same name – the studio figured folks would stay away unless the title was simplified to Beetlejuice. Named after the red supergiant star blazing ferociously in the constellation of Orion, some 600 light years from our solar system, Betelgeuse is an outcast from the hilariously bureaucratic afterlife, aka the Netherworld. Which leaves him preying on the naïve recently deceased, like sweet young couple Adam and Barbara Maitland (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis), in an attempt to crowbar open the sort of ridiculous loophole the Greek gods are fond of. Say his – apparently too complex – name three times and he’ll be unleashed on the mortal coil once more.  But Betelgeuse’s sleazy attentions are soon distracted by Winona Ryder’s goth child Lydia, when she reluctantly moves into Adam and Barbara’s now-empty house with her dad, Charles (disgraced actor Jeffrey Jones), and his new squeeze, OTT sculptor Delia (fabulously demented goddess Catherine O’Hara). A smash hit, Beetlejuice is a wild and unruly thing writhing with unhinged ideas, from its stop-animated black and white sand worms to characters shrunk into a model of sleepy town Winter River, and on to the hilariously-depicted dead of the surreal...

The modern myth of the superhero is a kind of wish fulfilment, though the concept of the “superman” or ubermensch comes from Friedrich Nietzsche’s 1883 work, Thus Spake Zarathustra. His idea was that humans would continually improve; a more ideal form is waiting for people in the future. Comic books find ways to speed along this evolution. So, we watch stories of heroes who fly, cannot be hurt, cannot be touched or, in some cases, are billionaires using their wealth for good. A real fantasy. Emilie Collyer’s new play, Super, which is currently running at Red Stitch Actor’s Theatre, is interested in more intimate powers that might help you day-to-day. Phoenix (Lucy Ansell) has the ability to dissipate someone’s anger; calm them down without a fight. Rae (Caroline Lee) brings people into her emotional vulnerability; if she cries, everyone else cries. And Nel (Laila Thacker) is so efficient, she can do the most basic tasks in the blink of an eye – and she can whip up a spreadsheet that will blow your mind. The origin story of Collyer’s latest dramatic work begins with a year of treatment for breast cancer. Her experience is deeply embedded in the play; these characters have been misdiagnosed or otherwise mistreated by the medical establishment. Their powers are pathologized or dismissed and they have to form their own support group to work their way through these radical changes. Phoenix is desperate to use her new ability ethically and with empathy. Nel has helped local...

Looking for something to warm your heart this winter? We've got just the answer: beloved musical Annie is returning to Melbourne after a smash-hit run in Sydney. With a knock-out cast that includes Anthony Warlow as Oliver “Daddy” Warbucks, Debora Krizak as Miss Hannigan and Greg Page (aka the OG Yellow Wiggle) as President Franklin D. Roosevelt, this tale of hope, family and friendship is one you won't want to miss.  Annie is showing at the Princess Theatre from July 8. Now, who's ready to belt out 'It’s the Hard-Knock Life'? *** Time Out Sydney reviewed Annie when it played at the Capitol Theatre in April. Read on for that four-star review:   Just over a decade since it was last seen in Australia, Annie is back – bursting onto the Capitol Theatre stage filled with optimism, joy, and hope. Director Karen Mortimer revives this quintessential piece of musical theatre with a sentimental production that preserves the charm and flair found in Thomas Meehan’s book. For those living under a rock (mainly me), this Tony Award-winning musical follows the story of 11-year-old Annie, who is growing up in an orphanage in 1930s New York, under the cruel eye of Miss Hannigan. In the midst of the Great Depression, pessimism is all around, but chipper young Annie has the antidote: hope. Encouraging others to believe that “the sun will come out tomorrow”, Annie’s enduringly positive spirit seems to finally pay off, when billionaire Oliver Warbucks chooses to take her in for two weeks...