REVIEW BY JESSICA FANWONG
EDITED BY CHARLOTTE FRASER
Presented by APK Productions as part of Melbourne Fringe Festival 2025, Todd Kingston’s haunting new postmodern play, METRO is a raw urban surrealist meditation on memory, grief and mental health.
Set on a Melbournian train carriage (with brief dips into a parallel surrealist dreamscape), the show draws an analogy between a train ride and grief. Each of the play’s four stories correlates with a different stage of grief: denial, anger, bargaining and depression. As the journey continues, we are also taken along the evocative emotional journeys of the characters witnessing their different encounters with loss.
Stepping into the small black box of Gasworks Arts Park, I was first struck by how immersive and immediate the staging felt. The stage was arranged in the familiar sight of a train carriage interior. Small embellishments, such as the archways of leaves and TV screen with footage of the moving train tracks at the edge of the stage, adorn the set to mesh cement reality with the fantastical subconscious. Maisie-Mae Minors creates a powerful metaphor–a train ride is a state of transition and like passengers, audiences were about to go on a journey.
The vivid visuals were brought to life by the evocatively beautiful soundscape created by Jamie Carolan and atmospheric lighting by Oscar Lanigan. While some minor technical mishaps meant that the timing of the cues were not always perfect, these were not explicitly noticeable, nor did they disrupt the atmosphere of the performance. Together the visuals and soundscape blended to create two contrasting worlds that flicker throughout the show. The costuming, too, did not disappoint. The set, lights and sound built the world, and the immaculately designed costumes by Amy Thomas told the stories of each character. As an intimate-style Fringe show, METRO‘s design is a powerful piece of aesthetic storytelling.
Designed with the audience seated on either side of the train tracks, the show positions audience members as passive observers aboard the train. Each character has their own separate story and lives and as the show flickers between the characters, the other characters remain oblivious –reminiscent of the alienating feeling while riding a Melbourne train. The cast does a stellar job conveying the mannerisms of each character – from posture to walking pace to their pastimes on the train-ride. Despite being a word-heavy play, the physicality was equally powerful, helping to craft the realness of each character.
This show is an ensemble-piece, with each character receiving an equal amount of stage time and storytelling. The first story centers on couple, Patrick (Boaz Hulme) and James (Henry Vo) in denial of their flailing relationship. We spend a lot of time observing the loquacious and vibrant Patrick, whose forced optimism contrasts starkly with the sullenness of their partner James. Both Hulme and Vo created a slow, measured performance of repression and the air in-between lines. However, their characters get dwarfed by the more sweeping and emotive performances of the ensuing characters and their story is never revisited, unlike the others.
The second story follows an ex-banker turned homeless man Lawrence (Declan Magee), who narrates his downfall and his struggles with depression and alcoholism––a performance with a moving rawness. Magee paints an image of the people and things we choose to turn a blind eye to and the simmering anger that rages within the dark interiors of the train. Lawrence’s monologues are some of the most hauntingly beautiful moments in the play, and Magee powerfully brings out the desperation and rage of a man on the brink, as he proclaims, ‘everything will get back to before, if only I can get through today.’
The third story, correlating to bargaining, features a chic, poised woman decked out in brilliant red from top to toe, Liz (Sophie Graham), who has a run-in with an estranged friend, Jenny (Alex Chiarelli). Their reunion leads to a tense fight scene as past disputes resurface. Graham and Chiarelli created a strong dynamic of contrasting personalities. Liz, under her slick veneer and blasé attitude, wishes to reconnect with her old friend, while Jenny remains disappointed by Liz’s entitlement.
The chronology of stories left me a bit confused. While the third stage of grief is bargaining, it seems that the fourth story aligns stronger thematically to bargaining. The fourth story shows ex-high-school-bully Harley (Esther Waddington Nastri) living with guilt. Nastri gives an intimate and gripping portrayal of self-blame and the torment of being haunted by past mistakes. Harley’s desperate attempts to apologise to Stevie (Natasha Bowers), the classmate they bullied in high school, and their inability to obtain forgiveness I feel connected stronger to the bargaining stage. Harley’s spiral scene was also a highlight, the flashing lights give a visceral depiction of a panic attack as they descend into the chaotic surrealist world of depression.
Weaving the four threads together is an observer. Alanis Crocott crafted a highly empathetic manic pixie dream girl – The Young Person. The Young Person inquisitively eavesdrops into the stories of the other characters, and in a manner reminiscent of Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed, Crocott intervenes into the other stories. Amid a carriage of unhappiness, Crocott is a fresh breath of optimism and hope, offering heartwarming words and acts of healing to help characters move beyond their grief. To Lawrence’s resentment of invisibility, they affirm, ‘you exist, you’re real… I see you’ and to Harley they exclaim, ‘you are love, you are hate, you are destruction and passion… you are everything,’ beckoning Harley to forgive themselves. The Young Person’s interventions happen in the parallel surreal world, seeing the creation of a more empathetic world that contrasts with the isolation of the real world.
While the performers are clearly strong actors, the chronology of the story and intersecting plotlines of multiple characters made the story hard to follow. The third and fourth stories especially flicker back and forth so frequently that it was disorientating at times. Having them as four distinct parts could have helped with clarity, or if going with a more disorientating effect, the first story could have been woven in as well to give all four equal weight.
Kingston’s writing is beautifully poignant, expressively depicting the wealth of human emotion and the strength of human connection. While grief may be individual and unpredictable, METRO shows that the journey does not need to be taken alone. In the dark tunnels of the train ride, the journey may feel endless, but grief, as with any train ride, is finite and we will eventually reach our stop. The journey is painful, but to be truly seen by another person, like The Young Person, will make it a little easier.
APK’s production of METRO played at Gasworks Arts Park 7 – 11 October 2025 as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival.
JESSICA FANWONG (she/her) is a Naarm/Melbourne based writer, theatremaker and creative arts enthusiast currently studying Masters in Arts and Cultural Management. Her work can be found on Farrago and the independent theatre scene.
CHARLOTTE FRASER (she/her) is a writer, performer and student editor based in Melbourne. She holds a BA in English and Theatre Studies and is currently completing her Masters degree at the University of Melbourne. Charlotte is also the incoming 2026 Dialog Editor.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre
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