Review: Menopause the Musical at Dunstan Playhouse

Menopause The Musical has been around long enough to know there are some things women simply don’t have time to put up with anymore; uncomfortable underwear, unsolicited advice, a dodgy thermostat, and pretending that menopause is something we should whisper about.

More than two decades after creator and writer Jeanie Linders first turned the subject into a musical comedy phenomenon, this new Australian production is back on tour, and if the Adelaide audience is anything to go by, the sisterhood is still very much ready to laugh about it.

The premise is deliciously simple. Four very different women collide at a department store lingerie sale and, through competitive shopping, hot flushes, hormonal chaos and the universal realisation that something has changed, discover they have rather more in common than they first thought.

There is no great dramatic revelation here, nor does there need to be. This is jukebox musical comedy built around recognition. Familiar favourites including I Will Survive, Hot Stuff, What’s Love Got to Do With It and We Are Family are given wickedly appropriate new lyrics, transforming songs we know into anthems about hot flushes, sleepless nights, brain fog, libido and the peculiar indignity of forgetting why you walked into a room.

Basically, if you have ever stood in front of an open fridge wondering what on earth you were looking for, this show has your number.

Director and choreographer Cameron Mitchell, with associate director and choreographer Lisa Callingham, keeps the action moving at a deliciously brisk pace. The production has an almost vaudevillian rhythm; punchline, song, costume change, physical comedy, allowing four formidable performers to take centre stage.

As the Earth Mother, Lena Cruz brings warmth, grounded physicality and an irresistible sense of authenticity to a character who could easily have tipped into caricature.

Vocally, Cruz is magnificent. She has the sort of voice that can sit comfortably inside comedy without sacrificing musicality, and she finds the humour within the songs rather than simply delivering the punchline.

Her comic timing is equally assured. Relaxed and confident, Cruz trusts the material and her fellow performers, creating a character who is as likeable as she is entertaining.

Chelsea Gibb is delicious as the glamorous Soap Star, arriving with enough theatrical denial and neurosis to power an entire television network.

Her refusal to accept that she has reached the dreaded age of 50 provides some of the show’s richest comic material, but Gibb gives the character enough vulnerability to make her more than a caricature.

Vocally, she is a powerhouse. Her musical theatre pedigree is obvious, particularly in the high-energy numbers, where her voice soars above the comedy. Add in the hair flicks, eye rolls and perfectly timed indignation, and Gibb is impossible to ignore.

If there were an award for Most Likely to Cause a Theatre Full of Women to Nod in Recognition, Sally Bourne would have a very strong case.

Her Housewife is gloriously relatable, a woman who has spent years looking after everyone else and is now discovering that her own body has decided it would like a starring role.

Bourne brings enormous comic intelligence to the part. Her timing is impeccable, her physical comedy is terrific and her rich, characterful voice is perfectly suited to the show’s classic-pop repertoire.

With more than four decades of professional performance behind her, Bourne has the stage presence to simply walk on and own the space. There is also a wonderfully naughty quality to her performance, the kind of I’ve been married long enough to tell you exactly what I think energy that makes the Housewife instantly endearing.

And then there is Catherine Alcorn.

If menopause needed a corporate spokesperson, her Professional Woman would probably already have the PowerPoint presentation prepared.

Alcorn is pure cabaret dynamite.

Her character is successful, controlled and accustomed to being the person with the answers until menopause arrives to demonstrate that there are some things no amount of executive competence can manage.

Alcorn plays that collision beautifully. Her comic timing is razor sharp, but it is her vocal performance that really sets the theatre alight. She brings power, precision and personality to the big numbers, with a delicious cabaret sensibility.

Most importantly, there is wonderful chemistry between all four women. Individually they are terrific; together, they are dynamite.

Musical Director Ana Mitsikas ensures the familiar melodies retain their musical identity while allowing the parody to drive the comedy.

The songs work because the audience doesn’t have to work too hard to get the joke. We know these melodies, we know the lyrics they replace, and suddenly we are hearing them through the very specific lens of menopause.

The result is a shared experience: knowing laughs, spontaneous cheers and plenty of oh, that’s me! moments.

Frances Story’s set design makes clever use of the department store environment, creating a flexible playing space that keeps the action moving. The sets multiple doors, both practical and comedic, act as shopfronts and bathrooms, providing the performers plenty of opportunities for rapid entrances and exits. Jasmine Rizk’s lighting design adds colour, energy and theatrical sparkle, particularly during the musical numbers.

And Christine Mutton’s costume design deserves its own round of applause. Colourful, character-specific and wonderfully theatrical, the costumes help define the four women before they have even opened their mouths.

The danger with a show like Menopause The Musical is that the subject matter could become repetitive: hot flush, joke; brain fog, joke; sex, joke; bathroom, joke.

But this production works because the performers find the women inside the jokes.

At its heart, this is a show about being seen. About friendship, ageing, sexuality and identity and the freedom that comes from finally saying, yes, this is happening, and I’m going to laugh about it.

Linders deserves enormous credit for taking a subject that was once barely discussed in polite company and turning it into a global celebration of women.

This new Australian production understands exactly why the formula has endured. The laughs are big, the voices are bigger, and somewhere between the hot flushes and the hilarious lyrics, you find yourself recognising a little bit of yourself.

So grab your girlfriends, your sisters, your mum, your partner, your brave male companion, frankly, grab anyone who has ever wondered why the thermostat keeps moving, and settle in.

Because Menopause The Musical doesn’t ask women to age gracefully.

It asks us to age loudly.

And preferably with a fan.

5 stars

Lia Loves.