Luke

Click here if you liked this article 3

https://www.redstitch.net/luke-2026

Date Reviewed: 20/09/2026

This play is part of the INK program developed by St Kilda’s Red Stitch Actors’ Theatre. It offers a “bespoke, production-focused development initiative designed to nurture new and established Australian playwrights”.

I really did like this play quite a lot despite its flaws, and wanted to write a full discussion piece about it, which has swelled into a kind of mini essay.

Part One

The first act had a lot of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? in its material and style, but ultimately it reminded me more of Alan Bennett’s The History Boys. It is a fascinating study of a problematic but inspiring teacher’s role in both the classroom and wider society. Art for art’s sake, knowledge for knowledge’s sake, that kind of stuff.

Dion Mills shines in this act. As Damon, he is ebullient, crass, funny, confident and sublime in the role.

Where I think Luke suffers here is from a lack of focus. There is a lot being said without very much to tie it down. The line that captured my attention most was “To be a writer is to tell the truth”, one of the catchphrases within this act. That alone sets up the rest of the piece brilliantly, but I also feel it doesn’t fully vindicate itself in the work.

The biggest issue for me was Damon’s argument about the lack of dialectics in the classroom. The classroom is now a conveyor belt argument, a classic. But Damon’s whole argument does not posit a new system. Instead, it establishes him as a retrograde character arguing that the olden days were so much better. He blames modern red tape rather than his own shortcomings as an educator.

What he interprets as the “sanitisation” of education is, in fact, the removal of a teacher’s personal biases and colonial teaching attitudes. Damon’s frustration seems to be with his role as a shackled educator and a homosexual. But this clashes with Damon’s previous argument that “Australians always want to forget”. I was confused by this character’s contradictory relationship to the idea of dialectics and his repressed homosexuality.

The first act is delightfully entertaining, but is almost too full of content to provide a through line which the audience can cling to.

Part Two

The second act begins brilliantly. I want to applaud Nathan Burmeister for his clever and thoroughly simple set and costume design. I could tell everybody in the audience was delighted and impressed by the change from Part One to Two.

Part Two quickly becomes a sophisticated critique of the modern popular fiction writer. This reminded me of the 2025 book The Mushroom Tapes, co-authored by Helen Garner, Chloe Hooper and Sarah Krasnostein. It is a takedown of the professional leech who commodifies their personal life, and the lives of those around them, for monetary and critical betterment. Success at any cost kind of attitudes that really gut the modern Australian literary industry, in my opinion.

William Lonsdale and Olga Makeeva shine in their roles here. They represent the different arguments perfectly and perform with passion and dignity, although I will say I felt Chris (William Lonsdale) was given far too much dialogue, allowing them to dig themselves a rather deep argumentative hole.

“I don’t like your art, Chris…” was a killer line that helped unify the second act marvellously. The video effects were also superbly executed, bringing home some of the themes in the work around guilt and blame.

Oddly, in this act I noticed the lack of expletives and felt swearing was notable in its absence. This made the show feel restrained and more cerebral.

Part Three

In my opinion, the weakest of the three acts. Our protagonist Chris does not have, in my opinion, enough fibre to be digestible alone. An older and more shaken Damon is fascinating, but the dialogue was not direct enough for me. The anger was restrained, the tension was too much here, and too much was left unsaid.

I would also have liked a costume change for Chris, something to reflect his “forty years” of life and better demonstrate the third time shift.

There is a tremendous amount of quality work in this act, however. The dialogue is sweet, funny and charming. The complex relationship between Damon and Chris is handled with sincere warmth and delicacy.

Towards the conclusion of the third act, the ending falls apart. Sitting in a chair and speaking directly to your audience is shockingly sloppy for what was, on the whole, a rather brilliant show.

Final Thoughts

The play advertises itself as “proudly queer”, which felt a little out of place in this piece of work, honestly. I don’t consider myself an expert on the subject of queerness in a piece. But tossing in pastiche references to Baby Jane and Pink Flamingos does not a queer masterpiece make.

And yet, for all my criticisms, there is something genuinely compelling about Luke. It is ambitious, intellectual and clearly interested in the uncomfortable relationship between art, education, memory and the people who make their living from telling the truth. I was not bored. There is a lot here to think about, and considerably more to admire than dismiss.

Angus Cameron has written a thought-provoking piece of modern theatre. I wish Luke the best of luck and hope to see this work again in the near future.

Reviewed by Nic