With a cast of six and a taut production set-up that screams indie budget, The Lucky Country is a contemporary comic chamber musical about Australian identity that punches well above its weight.
The Lucky Country premiered in Sydney in 2023 and returns as part of Melbourne Fringe Festival before it travels onto Brisbane. With music and lyrics by Vidya Makan in collaboration with director Sonya Suares, it offers a musical mixed lolly bag, with earworm-friendly bangers about what it means to be Australian and ballads laden with local music and pop culture references.
The Lucky Country – quick links
The fast-paced, 60-minute show includes a cosy, queer, Jimmy Barnes-like rock ballad about romantic misunderstandings (Footy and Beer, performed by Jeffrey Liu and Karlis Zaid); a Katy Perry-style piss-take pop song about Australia’s deadly fauna (I Could Kill Ya, performed with hilarious gusto by Phoenix Jackson Mendoza); and a kiddie television theme song-cum-calypso about a kid dreaming of escaping their small town to become a nudist in Byron Bay (Makin’ My Way to Byron Bay, Jeffrey Liu plus full cast). The song features an appropriate nod to the opening of Spiderbait’s Calypso.
The sparse production is enriched by impressive projected animations that serve as a backdrop for each song, as well as smart choreography by Amy Zhang, which variously turns the ensemble into back-up dancers for a power-pop hit and then conjures an AFLW game in slow-mo.
Blending satire, crippling shame and a love of musical theatre
While the phrase ‘the lucky country’ has long escaped its satirical origins to become associated with nationalistic pride, the musical feels neither like it’s swallowing the Aussie flag or crapping on it unreservedly. There’s a lot of tongue-in-cheek humour but the digs don’t feel nasty and warmth is never saccharine – quite a feat.
The songs in A Lucky Country are different stories. Each is distinct – sometimes funny, sometimes romantic, yearning, tragic or purely ridiculous – but all are connected by some indefinable quality that makes them feel authentically Australian, whatever that might mean.
Perhaps it’s the hopeful love ballad performed as an unexpected literal and romantic double-awakening post-Contiki tour shag (Thiithaarr Warra Country). Or the soaring theatrical comic show tune about a non-Hindi speaking woman, performed by Vidya Makan, who leverages her Indian heritage to score a Hindi-speaking featured extra role in a Hugh Jackman film (Hugh Jackman). When her blunder comes asunder, she’s crucified on social media for cultural appropriation, disappointing the entire nation, ‘even Sonia Kruger’.
Because truly, there must be nothing that speaks to the Australian identity more than that peculiar mix of bone-crushing shame and impossible hope.
Makan is best known for her performing roles as Eliza in the Australian production of Hamilton and Catherine Parr in SIX. It’s perhaps because of her experience that The Lucky Country oozes love for the form of musical theatre while having the right dose of piss-take and satire to woo the cynical masses – and maybe go viral on TikTok. It’s more The Castle than A Chorus Line but it’s still in technicolour.
The Lucky Country: national identity in song
The opening number, It’s a New Day, is performed by Darumbal and Wulli-Wulli actor and musician Garret Lyon. It’s a Hamilton-esque show tune-cum-rap about what it feels like to be a talented black athlete far from home, pushing against the weight of what society expects of him – ‘miss, I’m sorry, miss I’m late, miss… my family’. He looks up to musician Baker Boy as a hero, someone ‘young, Blak and deadly’ who looks like him.
Next, we’re in a school classroom for A Lucky Country. The class piles in as the schoolteacher (performed by Gija actor and musician Naarah) gets the students to sing about what makes Australia a lucky country, and what makes the students lucky for being Australian. It’s like an episode of Bluey with a sea-shanty breakdown that focuses heavily on the post-colonisation story of Australia – a focus that certainly was true of my school education experience in the 80s and 90s.
Could The Lucky Country be the next Great Australian Musical? While the question itself sounds like what the bloke at the pub might call a load of wank, it does feel like there’s something bang-on about it. There are stories of First Nations and immigrant pride, the trauma of the war veteran experience, and of people of all ages and cultures fighting for love, representation and a fair go – and to connect with each other across the gamut of these experiences.
And it’s – absolutely, vitally – funny.
Dusty Esky, performed by Karlis Zaid with full cast, celebrates the real international success of Mullumbimby-based, ‘fake genuine Russian choir’ Dustyesky, and how they went from festival icons to being invited to perform at the Victory Day Parade in Russia’s Red Square before Covid led to it being cancelled. It’s a modern Australian fairytale so ridiculous it couldn’t be made up.
The finale is a real highlight. Rise, performed by Naarah and Garret Lyon, is a stirring showstopper about First Nations resilience despite the ongoing impacts of Stolen Generation policies. It features live yidaki, performed by Billy McPherson, as well as Guugu Yimithirr language performed in multi-vocal harmony.
It’s is a big song with big themes but it’s soulful and musically brilliant, thanks to the show’s musical director Heidi Maguire, who also has done the orchestrations. At its heart, Rise is about a mother who loves her son, and the performance is anchored by the startling vocal talents and powerful presence of Naarah – certainly a star on the rise.
Read: Reuben Kaye and Bernadette Peters will Melt Brisbane audiences in 2025
The Lucky Country has a short season as part of Melbourne Fringe before it heads to Brisbane Powerhouse as part of Melt Festival. At last checking, there were only a few tickets left for the Melbourne Fringe performances. I strongly recommend you try to grab one if you can.
In a time that feels overwhelmingly bleak and divisive, with racism seemingly more overt and neo-Nazis walking the streets, a silly and satirical – but ultimately hopeful – musical like The Lucky Country is the antidote we all need. With the twin cultural subterfuges of cracking music and comedy, it brings focus to what binds us rather than what divides us.
