I Love Your Faces: The Don Lane Story

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https://premier.ticketek.com.au/Shows/Show.aspx?sh=DONLAN26

Date Reviewed: 15/11/2025

One thing I did not expect at PJ Lane’s I Love Your Faces: The Don Lane Story was to leave The Palms at Crown bawling my eyes out.

“We all were when PJ sang with his late father on a giant screen to Peter Allen’s Once Before I Go, crooning, ‘And it’s so hard to say goodbye, when there’s so much that’s left unspoken in your eyes.’”

This emotional crescendo followed a show filled with anecdotes about Don Lane’s rise to fame, vintage clips, personal home footage and, finally, his heartbreaking decline from Alzheimer’s, a cause PJ now champions.

Patti Newton even arrived with a cake to mark what would have been Don’s 92nd birthday on 13th November. She told PJ that his father would be immensely proud of him, before offering affectionate insights into the Don-and-Bert era.“Seeing that footage, it's what we're missing on telly,” she said. “The variety, the impromptu stuff. Now everybody’s got a little thing in their ear telling them what to say. I used to say to Bert, you could never do what you did with Don in today’s world of social media and phones.”

True words, Patti.

Don Lane indelibly shaped an entire generation of Australians. The Don Lane Show was once a weekly family ritual, an event. PJ’s production transports audiences back to that golden age of variety while delivering an intimate, deeply moving tribute to his father’s life and legacy.

“Yes, this is showbiz, this is glitz, this is family, this is generational love—and it’s a story that connects us all,” PJ says as he winds back to the beginning: New York City, 1933, when Morton Donald Isaacson was born to Catholic Dolly and Jewish dad, Jack Isaacson, a NY cop.

At eight, Donnie saw James Cagney in Yankee Doodle Dandy and stuck a star on his bedroom door, his destiny decided. By 15, he was performing in church talent contests, and soon he was singing anywhere that would have him: bowling alleys, bar mitzvahs, nightclubs.

A gifted student athlete on a basketball scholarship, he was later conscripted and entered an all-army entertainment contest, winning, and scoring two appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show. 

There were lean years playing to indifferent crowds, hithchiking to LA and changing his name at his agent's office after spotting a Frankie Lane poster. 

In Hawaii he worked a burlesque club, picking up bras and panties night after night, before earning his own audience, band, and a residency at Dunes nightclub. He met his first wife, Gina. “Her first marriage may have ended because she may have murdered her husband by shooting him in the face,” PJ quips.

Then fate intervened. Talent scout John Collins, sent originally to chase Wayne Newton for The Tonight Show in Sydney, ended up in Las Vegas, where Wayne pointed him to Don.

Collins liked what he saw. “Australia?” Don joked. “How would you like to dung yourself?” (Dung being the expletive Don always used so he wouldn’t get axed.).  

We’re shown Don’s first audition tape.

The rest, as PJ says, is history.

PJ recalls how his father championed young talent like a then-unknown John Farnham and a tall redhead named Rhonda Burchmore, who made a surprise appearance. Rhonda spoke warmly of Don’s impact on her career before delivering a sultry Maybe This Time, proof she still has it.

The Palms was the perfect venue for PJ’s Melbourne debut. With his father’s charisma in his DNA, PJ commands the stage: part storyteller, part philosopher, part classic vaudevillian. He honours Don Lane without ever impersonating him.

A live band brings the necessary razzle-dazzle, and four dazzling burlesque dancers add a glamorous, high-energy sheen reminiscent of the original Don Lane Show, once described as world-class.

The night is rich with behind-the-scenes gems. Patti Newton shared that Don “was probably the most generous performer Bert ever worked with. He didn’t care who got the laughs, as long as the laughs were there.” The show was syndicated internationally, attracting icons like David Bowie, Robert De Niro, Muhammad Ali and Sammy Davis Jr., who once arrived late and still “pulled out all the stops.”

PJ’s mother, Jayne Ambrose, was in the audience, visibly moved. When PJ left to a standing ovation and returned, he joked, “Some stars wait 20 minutes before they come back for an encore—but I’m not that secure. Twenty five seconds is enough.”

And then came the finale: PJ singing alongside his father on the big screen. A second standing ovation; this time through tears.

PJ Lane has crafted something heartfelt, electrifying, utterly captivating.

More than a tribute show, it’s a journey through Australian entertainment history and a bridge to the legacy of a man who ended every episode with one simple, enduring sign-off:

“I love your faces.”

Highlights:

• PJ’s incredible energy, warmth and powerhouse vocals.
  
• A seamless blend of storytelling, song, archival footage and humour.
  
• A live band and glamorous burlesque dancers creating true old-school variety magic.
  
• The ritzy ambience of The Palms at Crown setting the perfect scene.
  
• Vintage footage lovingly curated to transport audiences back in time.
  
• Surprise guest appearances by Patti Newton and Rhonda Burchmore.
  
• Intimate family stories, behind-the-scenes anecdotes and never-before-seen moments.
  
• Emotional resonance for those touched by Alzheimer’s and the Lane family’s advocacy.
  
• The finale: PJ singing with his father on screen—an unforgettable tear-jerker.
  
• A show that stands on its own merit even for audiences with no lived memories of Don Lane.
  

Who’s it for

• Fans of Don Lane and Australian television history.
  
• Anyone who loves showbiz, variety, storytelling and big-band glamour.
  
• Musical-theatre, jazz and cabaret lovers.
  
• Audiences seeking a heartfelt night out with humour and nostalgia.
  
• Families looking to introduce younger generations to a TV legend.
  
• Anyone wanting a beautifully crafted, emotionally resonant performance—even without prior knowledge of Don Lane.
  

Reviewed by Mary Sinanidis