AustLit

'Somewhere on the fringes of the internet, Ria e-meets Flick and instantly falls in analogue love… until Ria learns with horror that Flick is a ‘Flat Earther’. And Flick learns with equal horror that Ria is a ‘Globe Earther’. 

'Cue: a beautiful and chaotic musical epic that sees our star-cross’d lesbians plunge into the Dark Web and down YouTube rabbit holes to explore the one thing they know is real—their connection. But faced with malicious algorithms and a secret cabal (Illuminati confirmed), even Ria and Flick might not be able to Command+69 their way out of this one.

'The irreverent, ingenious minds behind acclaimed musical Romeo Is Not The Only Fruit are back with a West Side Story-meets-QAnon queer pop spectacular. Flat Earthers: The Musical smashes irresistible bangers with iconic conspiracies to ask: can you really find common ground with someone who doesn’t believe in the same ground?'

Source: Production blurb.

'Nana Miss Koori is the definition of Deadly—a living queer legend and a trailblazer of FAboriginal drag and storytelling.

'Graham Simms is the divine Nana Miss Koori. He is also a Gadigal Elder, who is part of the oldest living culture in the world—and he’s had to fight for his identity his whole life.

'Gadigal Gal is the solo spectacular that is the result of 53 years of practised wisdom, theatre, comedy, drag and a heaping serve of Gadigal glamour. Sit back and let Nana Miss Koori delight you with her dazzling display of pride, Culture and self-acceptance.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'This wasn’t how it was meant to go. 

'A few iPhones, a huge TV and a Socceroos jersey—shove them all in the IKEA bag then drive away as fast as you can. 

'AJ wasn’t meant to be spotted at the scene. AJ wasn’t meant to get ID’d in the line up. AJ definitely wasn’t meant to go to prison. But once AJ is convicted of theft, he is placed behind the walls of an institution where his own body is stolen from him. 

'In a cramped communal cell, AJ will become a ‘jailbaby’—the ward of a justice system that chooses to turn a blind eye to the life-altering sexual violence committed against young men behind bars.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'Hazel is no angel. In fact, she’s a delusional, reality TV-obsessed fantasist who swears like a sailor and has a fondness for greased-up male strippers. 

'She’s also hugely, undeniably, ready-to-pop pregnant.

'Up the duff and coasting through ultrasounds, baby showers and appointments with her midwife, Hazel is very good at ignoring the stark reality that’s about to rock her world from the inside out—literally.

'What happens when you’re not ready to swap grinding to Ginuwine for nursery rhymes? When you’re questioning whether you’re even cut out for motherhood, but that horse bolted eight months ago? Pony is the sassy, oh-so-crass one-woman crusade that’s desperately searching for the light at the end of the (vaginal) tunnel.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'After a workplace indiscretion shatters his elite physiotherapy career, Ard Panicker ends up working at a metaphysical health spa giving Ayurvedic rubdowns to yummy mummies in Bondi.

'When he receives word that his estranged father has died, Ard’s world is thrown into turmoil. He begins to shake and shudder with mysterious full-body seizures—accompanied with waking visions of a terrifying, all-powerful deity. 

'Desperate to find a cure for his phantasmagorical condition, Ard travels to the village in South India where his father was born. 

'Instead, he finds an enlightened tantric guru who cracks open his sense of identity, sexuality and his grip on reality.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'This is a new work for the stage that speaks to our current climate crisis. Written in the wake of the devastation of the 2019 bushfires it asks: What’s happening to winter? In hot, bushfire-prone Australia, our winters are becoming warmer and shorter. Will climate change eventually erase the season, leaving it to exist only in paintings, fairy tales and historical accounts? The End of Winter is about loss and resilience. From the award-winning team who created Good With Maps comes another sinewy, poetic and thought-provoking piece.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'Some objects possess mysterious powers. They can take us back in time. They can remind us of someone. They can make us emotional—joyful, wistful, homesick.

'Objects can also imply drama. When you hear the words ‘window’ and ‘cricket bat’… what do you think of?

'A short chamber performance for a solo performer and a curious audience, Window, Cricket Bat comes to life within the exhibition space of Happy objects at the Australian Design Centre. Become a guest at the glamorous luncheon of one of the world’s most famous playwrights—evoked with nothing more than a well-loved souvenir and a cracking story.

'Produced in a unique collaboration with Griffin, the Australian Design Centre’s Happy objects is a celebration of ‘stuff’—material items that are often imperfect, and always deeply symbolic of the lives we lead. Accompanying the exhibition, Window, Cricket Bat is a delightful journey back to London in the 1980s, penned with fond humour by playwright Hilary Bell.'

Source: Griffin Theatre.

'If you’re a first generation Australian woman. If you’re the daughter of a black mother. If you’ve inherited their pain—of escaping the horrors of third world conditions, of carrying physical and emotional trauma, of reckoning with an unfamiliar western frontier that regards you as ‘other’—then you’ll know how difficult it is to ask for permission to heal.

'How can you balance your history with your unwritten future? How can you inhabit an individual identity when you’ve inherited the truths of your ancestors? How can you open your arms and feel the sunshine on your skin when secrecy and shame drain the colour from your parents’ eyes?

'Mother May We is an epic poem forged from interviews with ten powerful artists who identify as BIPOC. Poet Mel Ree rhapsodises about intergenerational trauma and marries ancestral and modern truths in a truly epic and cathartic performance. Peppering playful performance art with humbling, hard truths, Mother May We is a motivational manifesto for holding the pain of the past in your body, and overcoming it to shine like a sunbeam.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'Shoshana, 12 years old, is about to celebrate her Bat Mitzvah, which will welcome her into the hallowed halls of Jewish womanhood. Miriam, double her age, is the teacher helping Shoshana prepare for her big day.

'However, one question keeps stopping both student and teacher in their tracks: what even is a Jewish woman? A is for Apple is an irreverent, impertinent romp through the Old Testament’s patriarchs and matriarchs, in search of role models. Jessica Bellamy’s (Shabbat Dinner) inventive new play asks how women can rewrite the myths that formed them, and create a version of ‘woman’ that embraces contradiction and complexity. A is for Apple relishes in genre-blending and cultural translations to ask lovingly provocative questions and welcome everybody into the tribe.

'So, load up on Genesis, cue up some Missy Elliott and get ready for a night at the theatre that will leave you empowered and renewed.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'There’s no crueler thing you can say to an actor than ‘Don’t quit your day job’. Fortunately, thanks to cover bands and theatre restaurants, Ash Flanders never needed one. But after years of glittering appearances on stages and in school gyms across the country, Ash unceremoniously finds himself seated at a computer terminal in a decidedly un-sparkly corporate office. No longer an acclaimed playwright and performer, Ash is now a legal transcriptionist—typing the words of suspected criminals who are not nearly as fascinating as TV suggested.

'As Ash painstakingly types out the narratives of petty crims, he begins to interrogate his own poor choices. That thing he did in an abandoned carpark. The visit to the horse knackery. Those people at the old folks home. All of it in service of one thing: making people laugh.

'But as his own transcript unravels, Ash realises it’s about making her laugh. His toughest audience. A heavy-drinking, chain-smoking behemoth named Heather Flanders. And her health is getting so dire it’s, well… laughable.'

Source: Griffin.

'Once in a blue moon, in the middle of nowhere, two teenage boys meet under a lemon tree. After a rough start, a fragile friendship fruits into a heady romance. Ty and Neddy fall madly in love, as teenagers are wont to do.

'If history would just unfurl a little differently, the boys might have a beautiful future ahead of them. But without knowing it, Ty and Neddy are poised on the brink of a world that is about to change forever. It’s the early 19th century. Ty is River Mob. Neddy is Mountain Mob. And the earth they stand together on is about to be declared ‘Australia’.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'Coming home from her sister’s funeral, Grace decides that at 87 years old… her time has come. She’s done with it all. She’s ready to leave the party.

'Her daughter, Dorothy, decides her mum is just depressed. She makes it her mission to show Grace the beauty of living. But Dorothy is divorced. Stuck in a dead-end job. Estranged from her own daughter, Suzie, who lives halfway across the world. Soon, Dorothy starts to worry that her mum might have the right idea.

'Pushing up daisies. Kicking the bucket. Ghosting the Party. The euphemisms are endless. For a phenomenon so certain and all-encompassing, humans are terribly good at looking for ways to avoid talking about death. It’s easy to forget that the concept of ‘checking out’ can be complex, contradictory—funny, even. Especially when an old lady with a bone-dry wit is involved.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'At a golf course on the edge of a regional town, a reluctant group of young people are employed to keep watch over a landed spacecraft. The UFO sits, silent, with lights flashing—for minutes, hours, days. But just when they are ready to give up...

'UFO is a new live-cinema sci-fi theatre work performed on a 1:8 miniature golf course, using exquisitely detailed figurines of the actors.'

Source: Australian Performing Arts Exchange.

'You’ve walked past it. Maybe through it. Down the end of Victoria Street, opposite St Vincent’s Hospital—Green Park. It’s picturesque by day, a little eerie by night. And it’s where Warren and Edden are meeting, as a prelude to their Grindr hook up.

'One of them doesn’t look like his photo. There’s an age gap between them (but what’s a decade or three?). And one is harbouring a dangerous secret. In an hour’s time, both will leave the park profoundly transformed.

'Google Maps lists Green Park as “Good for Kids”. But just a few decades ago, that definitely wasn’t the case. For decades, the Wall opposite the park was where rent boys plied their trade for curb-crawling Johns. The public toilet was a spot for secret all-hours hook ups. When the cops dismantled it, in 1988, a cabal of drag queen nuns—the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence—built a shrine to a chunk of its urinal. These details are becoming lost to time. But in Green Park, Warren and Edden will be pushed together—and apart—by forces of Sydney’s history that neither of them can comprehend.

'In 2021, Griffin is leaving its home at the SBW Stables and wandering down the road to the real Green Park. Outside the rotunda, audience members will be outfitted with a set of headphones. And together, they will eavesdrop on playwright Elias Jamieson Brown’s finely wrought Darlinghurst noir. To everyone else, the two men talking on a bench might not look like much. But in the gloom of the setting sun, you’ll experience a dangerous psycho-sexual collision… in a very public place.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'In alpine Victoria, on Gunaikurnai country, a flock of sheep are found with their throats torn open. A woman, a farmer’s daughter, is on the hunt—looking for feral dogs. Rifle at her side, she camps down, thinking she’s alone.

'But she’s not.

'From deep between the eucalypts, a dingo watches her. Heart beating through skin. Bristling with hunger and grief. Waiting for the slightest show of weakness. From Picnic at Hanging Rock to Wake in Fright, the greatest works of Australian Gothic tease a uniquely antipodean horror from the anxiety of living on stolen country.

'In a work of startling poetry, tenderness, and violence, Andrea James (Sunshine Super Girl) and AWGIE-winner Catherine Ryan ratchet this anxiety to epic proportions, in a bloody confrontation between two elemental forces, played out on contested territory.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'It’s one of those suburbs where the houses all match, the gardens all match, the cars, the dogs, and the people all match. But in the stucco sprawl of Paradise, the Petersen family don’t quite match.

'While her folks are back in Johannesburg, Zadie is holding the family fort. This means keeping her little sis away from bush doofs—and smiling when her nice white neighbours try to touch her hair.

'Then, in the middle of the night, someone starts pelting their house with oranges. Just once. Then twice. Then night after night after night. Maybe it’s nothing. Or maybe someone in Paradise wants them out.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.

'When her mother dies an orphaned girl is left alone in Singapore, in a home that is now terrifyingly empty. To make matters worse, she’s now in the care of her estranged brother—her new legal guardian—and he’s not exactly up to the gig. For one, he’s only a few years older than her. And two, he’s a gangster. Like, an actual one.

'The future he sees for their atypical family-of-two is lined with gold. And Chanel. And Miu Miu. And Balenciaga. But his new dependent is less sure about this. What is the trade-off for living in this kind of luxury? What should be kept in this world, and what should be offered to the next? As it turns out, their late mother has some strong opinions on the matter.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'Sacred Hands is Challito Browne’s story—the story of an immigrant family, brought together in caring for their matriarch, Nana. As Alzheimer’s disease shifts the fabric of her reality, she slips between her past and her present, from her home to Sydney, Australia. With unyielding compassion, poise and heartfelt humour, Challito’s family look after Nana in the same way that she once cared for each of them, igniting her memory with stories and song.

'A multilingual performance, Sacred Hands is a deeply personal exploration of family, identity and culture.'

Source: Production blurb.

'The year is 2079. Artificial Intelligence and humans coexist harmoniously. That is, until the appearance of an exceptionally clever AI named Neutron Finch. On the first day of kindergarten, Neutron reads the entire literary works from the history of humanity. This grabs the attention of other AIs at the school, and they start withdrawing from their human buddies.

'One night, a group of sixth graders is summoned to the oval. The AIs now know about and want souls. It’s then up to the ‘secret six’ to solve the greatest existential question of all time within a week. Will their soul-searching provide the answers they need to stop the AIs becoming humanity’s worst nightmare?'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'FEAR. Of losing the only place he called home.

'In this raw and captivating one-person show, comedian and performer Oliver Twist uses his exceptional storytelling abilities to reflect on his time as a refugee and to unpack what his life looks like now.

'Refusing to be defined by a turbulent past, Oliver uses personal anecdotes, drama and humour as an antidote to trauma.

'FEAR is a vibrant and emotional journey that patiently proves there is light at the end of the tunnel.'

Source: Griffin Theatre Company.