Studio Theatre, Sydney Opera House.
21 October 2025.
One Eyed Man Productions’ Calamity Jane opened at the Sydney Opera House this week, with remarkable vitality, proving that a classic musical can be both reverently preserved and boldly reimagined. Directed and produced by Richard Carroll, this intimate and inventive production radiates energy from start to finish, breathing new life into the Wild West tale without losing sight of its nostalgic charm.
Carroll’s staging retains the authenticity of the original story but refreshes it with deft humour and a contemporary spark. Witty insertions – a passing jab at the president, or a cheeky Wicked reference when Calamity and Katie find themselves sharing a broom – are delivered with just enough self-awareness to amuse without disrupting the show’s period integrity.
The transformation of the Studio Theatre is particularly inspired. The audience sits cabaret-style around small tables, immersed in a space that becomes the saloon itself. Performers weave in and out of the seating area, enter from the mezzanine and aisles, and deliver dialogue from unexpected corners of the room. A central podium functions as both stage and gathering point, bringing the action close enough to touch. Cameron Mitchell’s choreography makes dynamic use of the entire venue, ensuring a sense of constant movement and spontaneity.
Musical direction by Nigel Ubrihien is polished yet lively, with the cast’s vocals shining throughout. Their sound perfectly captures the warm, open tone of the golden Hollywood era, from the boisterous ensemble numbers to the softer, more heartfelt ballads. The vocal blend across the small company is consistently strong, and the close harmonies – particularly in The Black Hills of Dakota – are among the evening’s highlights.
Billie Pallin, performing in the title role on Tuesday nights (Virginia Gay plays Calamity from Wednesdays-Sundays), gives a captivating performance. Her voice is rich, agile, and expressive, shifting effortlessly between brassy comedic energy and lyrical sincerity. Palin’s comedic instincts are razor-sharp, her portrayal is engaging, energetic, and sincere.
As Katie Brown, Kala Gare offers a graceful balance – sweet, poised, and vocally exquisite. Her duets with Palin are tender and beautifully blended, notably the second act’s Black Hills of Dakota, which begins in gentle intimacy before swelling into a full ensemble chorus with the whole cast. The purity of tone and balance of harmonies here is deeply affecting.
Ryan Gonzalez (Francis Fryer) is a standout, delivering exceptional comic timing and physical precision. His expressive face and kinetic energy light up the stage, while his vocals carry both character and musical clarity. Andrew Cutcliffe’s Wild Bill Hickok is commanding and authentic to the genre, while Kaya Byrne’s Lieutenant Danny Gilmartin feels somewhat under-realised, both in portrayal and direction. Rather than embodying the confident, stoic bearing of a soldier of the era, the character is presented with a hesitant softness that sits awkwardly against the show’s otherwise period-faithful tone. The choice reads less as subversion than misalignment, diminishing the tension and contrast that the role traditionally brings.
Victoria Falconer’s dual roles as Adelaide Adams and Susan Miller demonstrate impressive versatility. Equally strong as singer, actor, and musician, Falconer’s violin playing adds texture and authenticity to the production. Her leadership of a seemingly spontaneous post-show singalong in the foyer – joined by cast and audience alike – was a charming, organic extension of the world Carroll has built.
The set, a cleverly constructed saloon complete with sliding barn doors, serves as a both back drop and meta-stage, playing into the show’s playful theatricality. Comedy is woven through every aspect of the performance, from slapstick horse-riding with coconut shells to self-referential moments that highlight the cast’s multi-role transformations. The humour is deftly judged: modern enough to engage yet restrained enough to preserve the musical’s golden-era essence.
One small shortcoming lies in the climactic transformation of Calamity herself. The moment is written to provide a striking visual and emotional payoff – the culmination of her journey from rough-edged to more self-assured woman – but here it lands with less impact than expected. The intention is clear, yet the execution underwhelms. Costume and styling seem to have let the moment down: Calamity’s hair remained tousled and sweaty, her costume lacked the polish or distinction to mark a true transformation, and the overall effect felt unfinished. She appeared more as a slightly tidied-up version of her former self than someone reborn in confidence and poise. While the production excels in authenticity and wit elsewhere, this pivotal scene would have benefitted from a more deliberate visual contrast – something to signal, even subtly, the emotional shift that the story hinges upon.
Calamity Jane at the Sydney Opera House Studio Theatre is a joyous celebration of musical theatre’s ability to reinvent itself. It is intimate, irreverent, and full of heart – powered by an ensemble whose vocal and comedic talents are as bright as the golden era they so lovingly evoke.
By Linda Badger of Dance Informa.
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