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Xanadu | Presented by Mira Ball Productions at Ron Hurley Theatre Book: Douglas Carter Beane | Music and Lyrics: Jeff Lynne and John Farrar Producer: Elodie Boal | Director: Timothy Wynn Choreographer: Jennifer B Ashley Music Director: Rae Rose | Band Leader: Ruby Tate Makeup, Wigs and Set: Rosie Humphreys | Costumes: Jackie Fredericksen Sound Design: Jacob Cash | Lighting Design: Carter Firmager Pegasus Design: Garry Hull Photography: By B’rit Creative “Let it be known: in 1980, inspiration left the arts!” The original Xanadu film may have been considered a flop in 1980, but Mira Ball Productions’ stage version was anything but! This was a vivid, shimmering, farcical, self-aware journey on wheels. Literally. I’d never seen Xanadu before (oops!), so I went in only knowing the basics: roller skates, disco balls, Olivia Newton-John, Gene Kelly... and what I experienced was a full-throttle musical fever dream about inspiration, Greek mythology, legwarmers, and the terrifying thrill of making art and hoping someone else sees the magic in it too. The script was completely on the nose and absolutely knew it. It was packed with 80s slang, fourth-wall breaks, and some cheeky local and current references tucked into the glorious nonsense. Nothing about this production asked to be taken seriously, which was exactly why it worked. But beneath all the camp, Xanadu revealed a genuinely beautiful little heart: a love letter to every theatre person who knows the chaos of making something from nothing. That is where we truly live: somewhere between inspiration, panic, and sequins. The story follows struggling LA artist Sonny Malone, who is ready to give up on his life (bit dramatic...) when the Greek muses magically come to life from one of his murals. Clio disguises herself as an Aussie gal named Kira and stays on Earth to help inspire Sonny. Together with Danny McGuire, they dream up Xanadu, an entertainment venue in Venice Beach. But when two jealous muse sisters decide to meddle, love breaks divine rules, and suddenly we are off to Mount Olympus... a disco in the sky! Nykita O’Keeffe was enchanting as Kira/Clio. She had exactly the sweet, shimmering tone needed for this score, with that clean 80s popstar quality that made the whole thing feel bright and dreamy. As Clio, she carried herself with magical muse confidence. As Kira, she committed fully to the terrible (American idea of an Australian) accent. I also genuinely think Nykita had been possessed by the spirit of roller-disco Barbie. She glided around the stage with this sparkly quality, all while remembering singing, acting, blocking, landing jokes, and skating in circles like she had no concern for dizziness. Her sng “Suspended in Time” was especially beautiful, giving her a chance to show off her angelic voice while riding a Pegasus, as you do. Croft Phillips was wonderfully sweet and ridiculous as Sonny Malone. His Sonny was artsy, funky, chatty, sincere, and magnificently delusion in the way only a struggling artist in a musical can be. He gave Sonny such an earnest golden retriever heart towards Kira. His voice sparkled in the melodramatic “Don’t Walk Away.” I also need to mention the epic XANADU sign, which looked fantastic, even if Croft put the N backwards. Spelling is hard. Dreams are harder. Chris Kellett brought old-school charm and authority as Danny McGuire, later doubling as Zeus with great (bearded) fun. His duet with Nykita, “Whenever You’re Away From Me,” had a beautiful crooner quality, and the dance work by Jaya was slick, playful, and full of vintage glamour. Then there were the sisters. Samantha Sherrin as Melpomene and Kennedy Foley as Calliope were a wickedly funny pair, and their number “Evil Woman” absolutely brought the house down. Sam had us eating out of the palm of her hand. She knew exactly when to command the room, when to throw in some improv, and when to let a look do the damage. And Kennedy proved she could do no wrong, with immaculate comic timing and a gift for making every ridiculous moment completely intentional. Together, they were theatrical menace in drapes. Peter Wood, Ashleigh Grabasch, Jaya, Molly Campbell, Sam Caruana, and Sophia Marzano gave the show so much of its sparkle. They kept popping up with little comic beats that made them impossible to glance away from. I kept catching something funny happening just off to the side: a face being pulled, a dramatic pose being struck, or a muse silently judging someone’s choices with divine authority. “Fool” became a bright, upbeat anthem, with Nykita leading beautifully while her sisters swirled around her like a glittery emotional support system with attitude. I particularly loved Jaya, Peter Wood, and Sam Caruana as three of the “sisters,” bringing supportive backup with sass, singing, and plenty of dance flair. The choreography by Jennifer B Ashley knew exactly what show this was. It was camp, character-driven, and full of fun. “Dancin’” was a highlight, throwing 1960s swing against 1980s excess in a dance-off that let the cast really play with the clash of styles. The muses constantly swept in and out of scenes with purpose, creating that feeling that inspiration could strike at any second, probably wearing a toga. Musically, the show was in strong hands with Rae Rose as Music Director. The band, featuring Ruby Tate, Mark Mirhan, Bryce Francis, and Dominic Nicholson, was tucked tightly into the "wings" but sounded fantastic. Ruby especially killed it in those jazzy keys moments. The live music gave the production a huge lift, and the score had that bright, electric nostalgia that made it very hard to stay seated. There were moments where the group vocals became a little overwhelming. Everyone on that stage had a powerful voice, which was a great problem to have, but it meant the blend occasionally got lost when they were all singing together. It may have been a mic balance issue rather than a performance one, but a little more definition in the mix would have helped the harmonies land more clearly. Visually, the show was a sugar rush. Jackie Fredericksen’s costumes were perfectly bright, sparkly, and outrageous in all the right ways, while Rosie Humphreys’ makeup, wigs, and set gave the production its cartoonish pop. Everyone looked like they had been styled by a Greek muse who had discovered an 80s aerobics VHS. Garry Hull’s Pegasus design added a wonderful bit of stage magic, and Carter Firmager’s lighting filled the world with every colour of the rainbow. The Olympus scene was one of the most absurd parts of the night, and I mean that as a compliment. The gods appeared with wild accents, wilder logic, and a parade of mythological creatures. Once Cyclops, Medusa, and Nessus appeared, the production had fully surrendered to its own madness. That was where Timothy Wynn’s direction really worked its magic. He let the show be ridiculous, but every pause, pose, and dramatic reveal was placed with care. The cast played the comedy boldly, but still cared enough about the story to make the audience care too, so that by the end we were on our feet giving them a standing ovation. I genuinely left with a headache from grinning/laughing so much. Mira Ball Productions gave us a glitter-drenched celebration of creativity, carried by a cast who committed completely to the bit. For all its neon and mythological chaos, it found something genuinely magical underneath it all. It was a ridiculous, joyful reminder that sometimes the dream really is worth chasing, especially if it comes with roller skates.

Brace Brace Presented by: PIP Theatre Written by: Oli Forsyth Directed by: Deidre Grace Sound Design: Freddy Komp Set Design: Bill Haycock Lighting Design: Geoff Squires Fight Director: Jason McKell Intimacy Director: Heidi Gledhill Photographer: Kris Anderson “You would think a hijacking would kill the romantic mood.” Ray and Sylvia’s story began like so many love stories do: eyes meeting across a crowded room. Romance followed. Then marriage. Then a honeymoon flight, with a whole future waiting for them on the other side of landing. But they never get the honeymoon they imagined. Brace Brace, written by Oli Forsyth and produced by PIP Theatre, is the kind of play that grips you by the shoulders and pulls you into a visceral journey. It is oddly funny, properly frightening, and painfully human. Told through Ray and Sylvia’s own voices, the production seats the audience close around the action on three sides. It does not let us sit back as distant witnesses. Instead, it pulls us into the fractured memory of the event. We are there with them, trapped in the noise, confusion, and terror of the plane cabin. In a single moment, a wild-eyed male passenger storms towards the cockpit and suddenly, the plane is plummeting towards the ocean. Sylvia, unbelted and thrown towards the front of the aircraft, makes a choice to act. Or perhaps her body makes the choice before her mind has time to catch up. In doing the unthinkable, she saves everyone on board. We are often captivated by disaster stories because they make us wonder, “What would I do in that moment of crisis? Would I fight, flee, freeze, help, hide?” But Brace Brace is not really about the flight. Not entirely... It is more interested in what happens afterwards, when survival comes with moral, psychological, relational, and physical consequences: the “why me?” moments, the survivor’s guilt, the anger, and the fragile coexistence of relief and grief. It is about what it takes to keep living after catastrophe, while parts of yourself remain forever altered and your nervous system is still somewhere in the sky, bracing for impact. Amelia Slatter and Henry Solomon are seated in theatre before the story begins, eyes fixed on the floor, waiting in lounge chairs like passengers called to a gate that no one wants to pass through. Brace Brace is primarily a narrated two-hander, and the dynamic between Henry and Amelia is truly compelling. Playing Ray and Sylvia, they swiftly and convincingly build a bond, then spend the rest of the play showing us how two survivors of the same event can process it so differently. Amelia Slatter is the blazing centre of this production. She is portrayed as tough, reactive, vulnerable, furious, and detached all at once. She moves between love, anger, and numbness like a pendulum of trauma, never at rest. Amelia’s performance feels deeply informed, whether through research, lived understanding, or extraordinary empathy for survivors. Sylvia’s PTSD is not portrayed through obvious symptoms, but through the paranoia infiltrating her home, depersonalisation, an insistent need for understanding, and the simultaneous presence of relief and grief. It is in her terror of being misunderstood and her desperation for someone to affirm her reality; someone to say, “Yes, this really happened. It was as bad as you say. You did the right thing.” Henry Solomon is funny, comforting, and quick-witted, delivering many of the play’s best one-liners. His dry, irreverent delivery injects much-needed life between the play’s more harrowing moments. But he is more than just comic relief; his portrayal is painfully human, even when frustrating to witness. He tries to remain himself, or at least convince himself that he can. His instinct is to move forward, to rationalise, to keep the relationship from being defined by the worst thing that has happened to them. Sometimes his stance suggests strength; other times, avoidance. Sylvia and Ray’s coping paths diverge so strongly that their shared experience becomes another kind of isolation. The more Ray wants to move away from the event, the more Sylvia is pulled back into its relentless grip. There is a brutal frustration in watching trauma alter a person’s fundamental sense of self while everyone around them waits for them to become “normal” again. Then there is Matthew Filkins, who gives a genuinely chilling performance as The Man. During the hijacking sequence, he is terrifying without needing to say a word. His physical presence, facial expression, and unstable intensity create an air of dread. The psychotic look he gives teeters somewhere between fractured reality and chilling intention. It is the sort of face that would haunt nightmares. Despite knowing he is a sweetie in real life, Matt’s unsettling portrayal sent chills through me more than once. Matthew is also astonishingly quick in his character shifts. As a television interviewer, he snaps into a completely different mode, with that bright, polished, hungry media personality down to a fine art. Each character portrayal feels so distinct that, in a blink, he can become a grateful father, the pilot, the shrewd interviewer, or the man at the centre of the nightmare. The production’s first clever design detail appears before the play even begins: the program resembles an aircraft safety card. Inside, Bill Haycock’s minimalist set transforms the stage into a runway-like aisle, evoking a plane without literal interior props. No clutter, no hiding spaces, just bodies, words, sound, light, and my rising blood pressure! Freddy Komp’s immersive sound design feels visceral, with aircraft effects that seem physical rather than decorative. There are moments where I felt my body preparing for impact while my brain knew perfectly well I was sitting safely in a theatre. It reminded me of Darkfield’s Flight from 2024. Geoff Squires’ lighting design is colourful, controlled, and uneasy. Much of the audience remains in darkness while the action moves up and down the raised, narrow stage. The LED strips, like emergency exit lighting, are tied to the breath of the play, tightening and releasing with the same awful rhythm as panic. The physical sequences are some of the most impressive parts of the production. With Jason McKell as Fight Director and Heidi Gledhill as Intimacy Director, the attacks feel frighteningly real. Amelia and Henry narrate moments as they play them, which could easily create distance, but here it has the opposite effect. We hear what is happening while seeing bodies commit to it, so it becomes both memory and immediate action at once. Writer Oli Forsyth populates the play with brilliant one-liners, ethical knots, and emotional landmines, all perfectly placed and paced. It grapples with fear, power, identity, blame, justice, and the messy aftermath of doing what is “right.” As Sylvia exclaims in exasperation, “I had no idea helping stop a plane crash would have such moral consequences!” A key strength of the script is its tonal whiplash, jolting from humour to violence, tenderness to discomfort, and absurdity to deep sadness. Director Deidre Grace keeps those shifts moving with thrilling precision. There is not a wasted moment. The 80 minutes fly by (bad wording sorry!). The pace is relentless but not rushed, full of words, emotions, and action, yet still spacious enough for silence, tension, and dread. “Stop letting him define you!” may be a rallying cry, but this production makes painfully clear how impossible that can feel when trauma rewires your sense of safety. Together, the writing and direction understand that the real question is not simply, “What happened on the plane?” It is about “the person you choose to be after the worst happens.” Though I am fortunate never to have endured such trauma myself, members of my family have. This play makes me reflect much more deeply on how a single event that may last just minutes can cast long, haunting shadows; stretching on in ways no headline or court case can contain. I kept thinking of words shared by a family member during the Port Arthur 30th anniversary just last month: “Even in the face of profound darkness, there can still be a will to protect life. When people speak about survival, they often imagine strength as something immediate and visible. But for many of us, survival is quieter than that. It was learning how to gain confidence in a world that suddenly felt unsafe. It was carrying the grief, confusion, guilt, and questions that we may never have answers to. The scars people carry are real. They do not simply disappear with time. Even when the world moves on, and when headlines fade, and the attention shifts elsewhere, for those of us touched by that day, it is never forgotten. It lives within us.” That sense of surviving beyond the moment itself is what Brace Brace captures so well. This production is a rollercoaster in the truest sense (sending a similar rush of adrenaline through me actually!). It is strangely funny, confronting, and violent, but ultimately, it is about connection; the people we cling to, the ones we lose, and the ones, if any, who truly understand our pain. This is a meticulously directed, beautifully performed, and technically striking piece that leaves the audience charged with tension. I would see it again in a heartbeat. I might also, perhaps, like never to board a plane again, though that is a separate matter entirely.

The Sapphires Queensland Theatre Company Bille Brown Theatre 28 April – 24 May 2026 Written by: Tony Briggs Directed by: Wesley Enoch Musical Director: Nathaniel Andrew Choreographer: Yolande Brown Set and Costume Designer: Richard Roberts Lighting Designer: Ben Hughes Video Designer: Craig Wilkinson Sound Designer: Isaac Ogilvie Photography: David Kelly “You can’t be from Australia, you’re not white” Written by Tony Briggs and directed by Wesley Enoch, The Sapphires follows four Yorta Yorta women whose girl-group harmonies take them from local talent quests all the way to Vietnam to entertain troops on the frontlines. Inspired by the real First Nations women behind The Sapphires, the work carries a legacy of family, music, survival, and hard-won joy. Many know The Sapphires from the 2012 film, but the stage version offers its own particular thrill, with live songs that will make you dance in your seat. This is a story full of joy, but it is never joy without context. Even as the story moves through racism, war, grief, and fear, it keeps its groove. The weight lands when it needs to, but so does the laughter, the flirting, the sisterly squabbling, and the daggy dancing. Before the show, a small black-and-white TV sits centre stage, flickering with images of history, pop culture, and war. It is a clever little time capsule to place us inside the broadcast world of the 1960s. This retro TV and Craig Wilkinson’s scrim projections create a space caught somewhere between a live gig and a television transmission. Richard Roberts’ set features a glossy black floor, raised performance space, four-piece band, and a glittering The Sapphires sign overhead. It is flexible enough to shift from family home to beachfront, army barracks, concert stage, and war zone. While Roberts' costumes bring the period to life with colour, sparkle, and those glorious white go-go boots. As the story shifts to Vietnam, the theatre pulls us into the environment: haze in the air, rain noise around us, the smell of cigarettes, helicopters approaching from behind, bombs splitting the music, gunfire cracking through. One moment we are clapping along like we are part of the crowd, and the next, we're hit with the reality of exactly where that concert is happening. Isaac Ogilvie’s sound design does superb work here, particularly in the climactic final moments of Act One. The four women form the heart of the production, and they complement each other beautifully. Taeg Twist brings warmth and strength to Gail McCrae, the group's self-appointed mother hen. Gail is talkative, loud, protective, stubborn and often found rolling her eyes at the world. Beneath that tough-as-nails facade is a woman who's made it her mission to hold everything together, whether anyone asked her to or not. Her singing voice is incredible, but it’s her acting that truly grounds the emotional stakes. When she belts out the heartfelt tune "People Make This World a Better Place," with images of the real Sapphires flashing on screen, it's a heart-stirring moment. Ruby Henaway is a riot as Cynthia McCrae, strutting into every conversation like she has already decided she is the star of the show. Cynthia is hilariously bold, unashamedly herself, and allergic to behaving. Henaway has epic pipes, but when Cynthia sings through her hurt, you catch the ache hiding beneath all that confidence. Aurora Liddle-Christie is lovely as Kay McCrae, the sensible one of the sisters. She's got her own traumatic past, so she carries herself with a slightly different rhythm from the others. There is a quiet complexity in the way she presents herself to the world, and Liddle-Christie handles that tension with grace. She keeps the group grounded while still being a total goofball, managing to stand out without letting the louder personalities overshadow her, at least from my perspective. And finally, there is Tehya Makani as Julie McCrae, the baby sister with a voice that can stop a room. Julie starts as a frightened, grumpy, uncertain young woman, but she's sharp enough to spot a good chance when it comes along. Her performance of "Respect" is a proper arrival moment, showing off serious star power and the exact amount of attitude the song demands. Together, these four performers are wonderful. Their characters are all very different, yet they share the same family fire. You can see it in the way they look at each other onstage with genuine pride in their eyes, the kind that makes you believe these women have fought, laughed, judged, loved, and survived each other for years. Their a-cappella sisterly moment, "Ngarra Burra Ferra", is particularly beautiful. In a production full of big numbers, that quieter moment lands with emotional force. The romantic threads are surprisingly tender too. Each of the girls gets some version of longing, flirtation, disappointment, or hope, and none of it feels like filler between songs. Jack Bannister is wonderfully endearing as Dave Lovelace, the Aussie talent scout who is, frankly, a bit of a numpty. His attempts at dancing are truly white-man-in-public, but in the most affectionate way. Bannister gives Dave enough awkwardness to be funny and enough sincerity to be likeable, especially in his interactions with Gail. Garret Lyon is a charming nuisance as Jimmy, Cynthia’s ex-boyfriend and a man with very little chill. His interest in Cynthia is stalker-like to the extreme, yet Lyon somehow keeps him charmingly hopeless rather than alarming. His dancing is a highlight in itself, and every time he appears, the show gets a little extra boost. Chris Nguyen is delightful as Joe, a fourteen-year-old Vietnamese boy hustling to support himself and his family (often through pilfering). His dynamic with Julie is sweet, with both characters still teenagers trying to navigate adult circumstances. The parallel between Joe’s family and the Sapphires’ family, both with seven sisters and one brother, is a small and touching connection that helps humanise the Vietnamese experience within the broader wartime setting. While the war's effect on actual Vietnamese citizens isn't deeply explored, it's still present enough to make an impression. Cameron Leonard nails the comic awkwardness as an American soldier Robby, even making an entrance while dangling upside down in a parachute. It is silly, memorable, and exactly the kind of lighthearted character that this production knows how to use well. Nathaniel Andrew’s musical direction gives the 1960s soul classics real warmth and drive, and having the band live onstage keeps the energy immediate. The four-piece band, with Andrew also on guitar, supports the performers beautifully without overpowering them. Songs including "Heatwave", "The Shoop Shoop Song", and "Ain’t No Mountain High Enough" are crowd-pleasers for a reason, and this cast knows how to sell them. I left with a bunch of those tunes stuck in my head, which usually means the jukebox-style musical hit the mark. Yolande Brown’s choreography sits beautifully in the world of the piece. It is stylish, character-driven, and full of groove without looking over-rehearsed to death. The girls move as a unit, but not like four identical backup dancers. Each performer brings her own rhythm, attitude, and little flashes of personality, which makes the group numbers feel true rather than pasted on top. Ben Hughes’ lighting shifts smoothly from stage glamour to intimacy and wartime tension. One moment, the girls are glowing under concert lights; the next, the world around them feels exposed and unstable. Wilkinson’s projections are equally effective, moving from starlit nights and vibrant colours for performances to combat footage and broadcast history. The “travel vlog” style sequence is a clever way to cover scene and costume changes while keeping the pace moving, and the production rarely lets its energy sag. By the time the megamix arrives, the show has fully earned its celebration. Using the aisles gives the finale an immersive lift, and the audience response was exactly what you would expect from a practically sold-out season of a feel-good Australian classic. What makes this production so effective is its tonal balance, and Wesley Enoch’s direction steers that balance with a sure hand. The Sapphires is set during the Vietnam War, with depictions of racism, violence, abortion, family conflict, and the frightening reality of young women surrounded by men with guns in a foreign country. On paper, that sounds heavy. Onstage, it is still serious, but it is also kept colourful, romantic, cheeky, and alive. Enoch allows the sparkle to sit beside the danger without letting one cancel out the other. Queensland Theatre Company’s The Sapphires is big-hearted, moving, and full of soul. It celebrates the women behind the story while giving a new generation of First Nations performers the chance to step into that legacy with pride. It sings as a concert, aches as a family story, and stays with you as a love letter to Blak women who knew their worth long before the world caught up.

Discover the latest in Brisbane theatre auditions and reviews on Stage Buzz Brisbane. Your go-to source for all things theatre in the Queensland capital. WELCOME TO STAGE BUZZ BRISBANE This dynamic hub for South-East Queensland thespians is your go-to source for audition updates, performance reviews, and engaging content that celebrates the vibrant local theatre scene. From spotlighting talented actors to providing valuable tips, it's a community-driven platform that brings the magic of the stage to the forefront, fostering connection and celebration among theatre enthusiasts in the region. NICE TO MEET YOU Embrace the enchanting world of South-East Queensland's theatre scene right here on Stage Buzz Brisbane! We're your go-to hub for all things theatrical: upcoming performances adult audition alerts youth auditions performance reviews exclusive spotlight interviews with local talents rehearsal/performance venue database Whether you're a seasoned thespian or a passionate supporter of the arts, join us on this exciting journey as we celebrate the magic that unfolds on our local stages. At Stage Buzz Brisbane, we believe every production deserves its moment in the spotlight. If you know of any upcoming productions or hidden gems that have slipped under the radar, don't hesitate to reach out and share your insights or let us know about the productions that deserve extra applause. Together, let's shine a light on the vibrant and thriving community theatre culture in South-East Queensland. Let the curtains rise, and let the show begin! Contact

< Back THEATRE: Comedy of Errors - Griffith University 4 June 2026 Season: June 4th - 5th, 2026 Title: William Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors Presented By: Griffith University Genre: Comedy / Shakespeare / Physical Theatre Synopsis: This fast-paced adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors brings mistaken identities, slapstick chaos, and sibling confusion to life in an energetic sixty-minute production performed by Griffith University’s second-year acting students. Featuring physical comedy, accessible storytelling, and contemporary staging, the production reimagines one of Shakespeare’s funniest plays for modern audiences. Performance Dates: June 4th - 5th, 2026 Performance Times: Thursday - 11AM & 7:30PM Friday - 7:30PM Performance Location and Address: Kingston Butter Factory Cultural Precinct, Butterbox Theatre, 270 Jacaranda Avenue, Kingston QLD 4114 Ticket Costs: Adult - $30 Concession / Student - $22 School Groups - $17 students Teachers/Carers - One free ticket per 10 paying students Ticket Link: Buy Tickets - Comedy of Errors Warnings: Contains adult references and mature themes presented in a comedic and exaggerated style. Recommended Age: Recommended for ages 15+ Duration: Approximately 60–70 minutes, no interval. Cast: Performed by Griffith University second-year acting students. Production Website: Griffith University - Comedy of Errors Other information: The production uses contemporary staging and physical theatre techniques to make Shakespeare accessible for younger and general audiences. The Kingston Butter Factory Cultural Precinct offers accessible parking, wheelchair access, accessible amenities, and companion seating options. Nearby Logan Arts venues include Logan Entertainment Centre and Logan Art Gallery. Previous Next

< Back THEATRE: The Revisionist - PIP Theatre 3 June 2026 Season: June 3rd - 13th, 2026 Title: The Revisionist Presented By: PIP Theatre Genre: Drama / Dark Comedy Synopsis: The Revisionist is a poignant and darkly comic drama by Jesse Eisenberg exploring identity, family history, grief, and connection. When a struggling young American writer travels to Poland seeking inspiration and escape, he reconnects with his elderly cousin Maria, a Holocaust survivor whose warmth, memories, and resilience challenge his detached worldview. Through humour and emotional honesty, the play examines generational trauma, belonging, and the stories we inherit. Performance Dates: June 3rd - 13th, 2026 Performance Times: Wednesday - 6:30PM Thursday & Friday - 7:30PM Saturday - 2PM & 7:30PM Performance Location and Address: PIP Theatre, Studio Theatre, 20 Park Road, Milton QLD 4064 Ticket Costs: $30 - $37 Ticket Link: Buy Tickets - The Revisionist Warnings: Likely contains mature themes, coarse language, references to grief, war trauma, and Holocaust-related subject matter. Recommended Age: Recommended for mature teenage and adult audiences. Creative Team: Playwright - Jesse Eisenberg Production Website: PIP Theatre - The Revisionist Other information: Presented in the intimate Studio Theatre space at PIP Theatre in Milton. The venue is fully accessible via foyer lift access and includes wheelchair-accessible amenities, dedicated accessibility seating, and Companion Card support. Parking is available underneath the venue and nearby street parking is also available Previous Next