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https://www.theatreworks.org.au/2026/the-wolves
Date Reviewed: 11/06/2026
The Wolves wastes no time finding its feet. Through choreographed warm-ups and stretches, conversations overlap and collide, moving effortlessly from geopolitics and current events to crushes, insecurities, social hierarchies and the ever-shifting dynamics of the team. As the girls talk, interrupt, challenge and rally around one another, their personalities come vividly into focus. There is little need for exposition; who they are emerges naturally through the cadences of their conversations and the quiet, familiar ways they ultimately show up for one another.
Sarah DeLappe’s writing captures the contradictions of adolescence with remarkable precision. Her characters are insightful and immature, compassionate and cruel, self-assured and deeply uncertain—often within the same breath. Rather than romanticising or simplifying the teenage experience, the play embraces its inherent messiness, resulting in a portrait of girlhood that feels refreshingly honest and deeply recognisable.
The ensemble brings this world to life with impressive cohesion, creating a team dynamic that feels entirely believable. Every character is distinctly realised, yet there is a palpable sense of collective identity. Among the many strong performances, Eleanor Golding (#11), Shanu Sobti (#14) and Marlena Thomson (#8) are particularly compelling, each balancing humour and vulnerability with ease while carving out a distinctive presence within the group.
As the season unfolds and the girls edge closer to adulthood, seemingly casual conversations begin to gather weight. What initially appears to be locker-room chat—this is America, after all—gradually reveals deeper anxieties surrounding identity, belonging, loss and the uncertain future waiting beyond the boundaries of the field. In doing so, the play uncovers extraordinary emotional depth within the ordinary rituals of teenage life.
While the narrative centres on the relationships between the players, it also offers several beautifully observed moments of individual growth that never detract from the collective story. Some scenes of raw emotional honesty leave the audience in stunned silence.
Special mention must go to Emily Joy, whose performance is quietly devastating for anyone who has ever found themselves disoriented by the sudden force of grief. And to the bag of half-time oranges, silently deserving of its own credit.
Throughout these heavier moments are striking displays of athleticism and vitality as the players stream across the stage. The cast uses the space with remarkable assurance. Their movement becomes a language of its own; we hear their breath, feel the rhythm of their bodies, and it is within these sharp juxtapositions—grief and motion, isolation and teamwork—where Belle Hansen's direction has found much of its emotional power.
A particular nod must also go to Sound Designer and Composer Jack Burmeister. The production's shifting soundscape—from moments of sombre restraint to bursts of shock-rock intensity, pulsating beats and subtle atmospheric textures—enriches the emotional landscape without ever overwhelming it.
The Wolves is tender, funny and, at times, quietly heartbreaking. Even in its moments of turbulence and loss, the production never diminishes the significance of each player's individual struggle. Instead, it allows joy, pain, uncertainty and resilience to coexist, creating a portrait of adolescence that feels both profoundly specific and quietly universal.
The Wolves, directed by Belle Hansen, is playing at Theatre Works, St Kilda, until 20 June.
Reviewed by Vivien Lynch