The Lovers: quick links
‘Better than any high school romance,’ one young audience member declared on the opening night of The Lovers, and that might be the truest tagline this show could ask for.
Shakespeare has fangirls in 2025, and they’re loud.
Since its 2022 debut as Bell Shakespeare’s first musical, The Lovers has been reimagined by Brisbane’s Shake & Stir, who have given it a new spin for their own audiences. If this is Shakespeare for the TikTok generation, then composer-lyricist Laura Murphy is definitely on the pulse.
Two familiar faces remain from the original production, the powerhouse Natalie Abbott as Helena and the magnetic Stellar Perry as Oberon, but the rest of the cast and creative team are brand-spanking new.
The Lovers zones in on the romantic chaos of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Helena (Abbott) loves Demetrius (Jason Arrow), who loves Hermia (Loren Hunter,), who loves Lysander (Mat Verevis). When Hermia and Lysander attempt to elope, the four lovers tumble into a forest of mischief, magic and badly crossed wires.
Perry’s Oberon arrives in arseless chaps and cowgirl bling, determined to make hearts ‘down to love’. Mischief comes courtesy of Jayme‑lee Hanekom as the cute and cheeky Puck, who struts about in a fluffy pink pom pom headpiece.
The opening ensemble numbers set the tone with sharp choreography, knockout vocals and a refreshing embrace of the silliness at the heart of Shakespeare’s Dream.
The Lovers: pop concert hype
Shake & Stir’s Artistic Director Nick Skubij steers the show with the hype of a pop concert. Think Taylor Swift stadium tour meets Shakespearean forest with big blocking so you know exactly what’s going down and a huge love heart flown in and out to really push the arrow through.
Like any great pop group, the ensemble relies on each member pulling their weight. Abbott is the clear standout, perhaps because she’s had a head start in the role, but no one fades into the background.
Vocally, the cast soars. Verevis smooths out ballads like honey, Arrow brings Usher-level charisma, and Hunter grounds the chaos with a lyrical warmth. With such a high energy show though, harmonies were falling flat in the second act.
Murphy’s music and lyrics are undeniably catchy, but unlike Shakespeare’s verses, pop hooks risk dating fast. Name-drops of Adam Sandler, Beyoncé and Michelle, and Bill and Hillary Clinton barely caused a stir from the Gen Z and Alpha crew down the front.
The Lovers: emotional honesty
The show is strongest when it leans into emotional honesty rather than cultural references.
Time and place are deliberately slippery. Designed by Isabel Hudson, a proscenium arch frames the stage like a crumbling Greek ruin, but quickly unravels into a neon technicolour fantasy with a pink and white cherry blossom tree on a revolve taking centre stage for the forest.
Surrounding the stage are big projection screens, designed by David Bergman, that fly in and out between scenes and amplify the arena-tour aesthetic.
Costumes for lovers begin somewhat Elizabethan, stiff collars on black and white garments almost lean to the point of lacklustre. That is until we enter the forest where all characters are transformed into superstar status.
Hermia’s forest fit of athleisure bike pants, corset, crinoline and shoulder pad is part satire, part fashion experiment. It seems a mash-up of all the ‘desirable’ trends women have been told to wear over centuries.
Elsewhere, Oberon’s cowgirl king, Puck’s pom poms and the men’s double-denim Canadian tuxedoes wink toward pop stars past and present.
The Lovers: packing a punch
Trent Sudgeest’s lighting shifts between flashy hazy concert excess for musical numbers and dim restraint in Shakespearean verse, sometimes leaving the in-between moments a little flat. The live band, however, packs a punch.
On opening night, teens and young adults screamed, booed, giggled and gasped like they were at a gig. At one point, it almost felt as though someone might hurl something onstage, just as in Shakespeare’s day with thrown fruit.
It fills a curious gap between high school musical and big-budget commercial theatre, daring to take Shakespeare into spaces where young audiences already live.
With Shake & Stir swiping right on its younger audience instead of trying to please all, it could spark a whole new love affair with language for the next generation.
