It seems that across time, the pursuit of creative expression has often been, in itself, an act of rebellion and self-sacrifice. Writers and artists rarely live lives of stability or wealth, and yet, in humanity’s most uncertain and desperate moments, it is to poetry, theatre and art that we turn to make sense of the world. The relentless act of writing, of shaping and sharing one’s perspective on life, still carries a quiet defiance, even in a technological age where everyone has a keyboard and an opinion.
It is perhaps for this reason that My Brilliant Career continues to resonate today. Since its publication in 1901, the novel has been adapted across multiple forms, including film and stage, with a television adaptation currently in development by Netflix. Now, it’s on at Sydney Theatre Company’s Roslyn Packer Theatre.
What is the premise of My Brilliant Career?
This award-winning iteration of My Brilliant Career, which debuted at Melbourne Theatre Company in 2024, is a musical theatre adaptation with a book by Sheridan Harbridge and Dean Bryant, music by Mathew Frank, and lyrics by Bryant.
It follows Sybylla Melvyn (Kala Gare, SIX the musical), a fiercely independent young woman growing up in rural Australia in the 1800s. Chafing against the limitations placed on her as a woman – particularly the expectation that she should marry for security – Sybylla dreams instead of becoming a writer and forging a life of her own making.
As she navigates family hardship, social pressures, and a romance with the self-made Harry Beecham (Raj Labade, The Talented Mr Ripley) that threatens to derail her ambitions, Sybylla must ultimately choose between the conventional path laid out for her and the uncertain, self-determined “brilliant career” she longs for.
What are the highlights of My Brilliant Career?
The charm of My Brilliant Career is the way that it sits at the nexus of live music and great storytelling. The live music isn’t just present on stage – it’s an actor, suggestive in its nudging of our narrator Gare and an extension of her mood and emotional state. With Victoria Falconer at the helm as musical director, I have come to expect nothing less. Director Anne-Louise Sarks delivers a restrained production that centres the music above all else.
The production team has assembled an ensemble of triple-threat actor musicians (quadruple threats if you count Cameron Bajraktarevic-Hayward’s high kick) who provide both Falconer and Sarks with a vibrant, versatile palette from which to paint an unlikely fairytale – one in which a woman actually gets what she wants.
I find myself increasingly resistant to the familiar rhetoric that a woman must choose between a life of meaning and one of love and family; the two are not mutually exclusive, though the origins of this idea are understandable. Thus, given the source material, this dated binary is perhaps inevitable. Where the production earns its forgiveness – due in large part to a captivating performance by Kala Gare – is in its clear-eyed depiction of what it means to be stuck in the unruly place between ambition and achievement and the belief it takes to remain in pursuit anyway. In doing so, it opens up a broader and more resonant conversation, not only about womanhood, but about the rigid structures of social class that continue to shape who gets to dream, and at what cost.
Gare is, undeniably, the centrepiece. With soaring vocals, a clarity of character and a command of audience engagement, she effortlessly carries the audience through this tale with compelling bite
The score rarely lets her down, though it falters briefly in moments such as “Good Enough”, an awkward musical rebuttal to an unwanted proposal that ends up more forceful than revealing. What distinguishes her performance, however, is the precision with which she charts Sybylla’s transformation from a doe-eyed, naive fifteen-year-old to a more self-aware young governess, whose insecurities are deeply internalised and whose growing capacity for self-reflection allows her to recognise the misplacement of her own drive.
Marg Horwell’s set and costume design mirrors this progression, transforming a simple stage anchored by a central dais into a series of richly evoked environments – a ballroom, a pig farm, an apple orchard, a boat ride serenade – with a restraint that never sacrifices its capacity to surprise.
Cameron Bajraktarevic-Hayward is a standout, pairing musical command with sharp comic timing; “Brick” lands squarely thanks to a full-bodied commitment to its absurdity. The production is at its most compelling when Sybylla is given a real choice – the possibility of genuine love. Raj Labade, initially hiding amongst the musicians in the first act, emerges as a welcome counterbalance, his rippling charisma and awkward vulnerability giving weight to the emotional stakes. Together, he and Gare share a palpable chemistry, their duets providing some of the production’s most tender and affecting moments. Perhaps it's my fondness for Labade, but for me the show really began when Harry Beecham entered stage left.
The strength of the production extends through the ensemble. On the night I attended, Christina O’Neill was absent, with Meg McKibbin stepping into the roles of Sybylla’s mother and Aunt Helen. That the transition was so seamless speaks to the production’s depth: McKibbin offered a performance both tender and precise, clearly delineating two women shaped by very different fates.
Who is My Brilliant Career for?
Uplifting, joyful and unapologetically Australian, this is truly a show for everyone. Regardless of what night you attend, you're in for a brilliant time.
Get your tickets here.
