REVIEWED BY JADE BREEN
EDITED BY CHARLOTTE FRASER
Welcome to the 95th annual Melba Awards, an evening of glitz, glamour, and … terrorism? The stage is set for a night of celebration, but as the Arts Minister takes the microphone the ceremony devolves into a dangerous hostage situation. Ryan Hamilton’s Fuck Your Funding follows the efforts of two young theatre makers as they try to reclaim the arts industry for the independent sector. Set against the all too familiar backdrop of an arts landscape run dry by funding cuts and incompetent arts ministers, the work dissects the radical lengths artists must go to to keep making in a social climate apathetic to the struggle of theatre makers.
I saw this work on the second night of the Melbourne Fringe Festival and as my first show of the fringe season, Fuck Your Funding was certainly an interesting way to frame the next three weeks of theatre. Oriana Morris-Johnson plays Grant, a furious young theatre practitioner who is far too confident in their wielding of a cardboard gun. Cynda Jace Beare plays opposite as Chase, an equally angry, yet slightly more diplomatically minded terrorist. The two balance each other out energetically, highly persuasive as they convince the audience to join the fight of the Australian Cultural Terrorists.
Gagged and bound beside Chase and Grant are Scott Gooding’s Richard Head, the charismatic and arrogant arts minister, and Mon Wing-Yun’s Philanthropy Philharmonica, the pompous, operatically inclined host of the evening. The two present an excellent foil to the young protagonists, so melodramatically out of touch with the industry that I felt myself oscillating between giggles and resigned horror at just how dire and relevant their misinformed choices
really are. Gooding’s performance in particular was a highlight of the show, he played the minister with such a genuine sleaze and revulsion that made me believe he had been plucked right out of parliament. Additionally, Frankie Thorne’s performance as Jordan, the overworked stage manager added a lovely immersive touch, from his honest and grounded live delivery of the Acknowledgement of Country to his sporadic interjections of labour within the story, I really enjoyed the choice to make visible the efforts of those that so often go unnoticed and
unappreciated even in the indie scene.
The final moments of the play see foundational loyalties and values shift in such a seismic manner that I found myself quite alienated against the plight of the characters. The plot twist leaves the audience with a view of independent practitioners as creatures starving for power, and disloyal to the community, almost vampiric in the way they turn against each other once they get the smallest taste of funding. This characterization was a disheartening conclusion to a piece that should have stood quite confidently as a celebration of independent artistry.
Under direction by Chelsea Jones and Georgie Wolfe, Fuck Your Funding questions what kinds of stories, and what kinds of storytellers are prioritised in a cultural climate ravaged by capitalism. Despite its marketed fury, I think the piece quite conservatively toes the line of creating an actual protest, so close yet so far away from making meaningful and productive commentary that pursues a more equitable industry for independent makers. Hamilton’s writing is clever and fast-paced, making justified jabs at institutions such as the VCA and Opera Australia but this humour relies heavily on audience specific in-jokes that might exclude those on the fringes of the industry. These commentaries also tend to jump around active accountability in a way that left me somewhat let down by the political nature of the show. While naming and shaming the companies and individuals actively neglecting the industry understandably comes with risks, I think the piece could have been emboldened by a further interrogation of the real-life perpetrators ransacking our industry. Conversely, if these call outs pose too much of a risk I would have loved to see a bigger celebration of those groups working tirelessly to ensure a future for our industry, the independents, the students, the makers who go unseen, under-appreciated and of course, underfunded. The conclusion of the show made an attempt to acknowledge past efforts through a funeral-like procession of the names of organisations lost to a lack of funding and I would have loved a further integration of this throughout the work.
In the epic climax of the show, the fictional arts minister Hamilton has crafted, makes a strong argument around the democratic nature of the arts industry, pointing out that those in power are voted on and are chosen to lead by community. Therefore, if a community has the autonomy to uplift those in power they too can choose who to criticise and who to demand accountability from. While the dramaturgy of Fuck Your Funding is a brave outcry and demand for better conditions for artists, I fear the production of the work fails to support these values, almost reproducing the halting defence of the fictional and not so fictional voices in power
Fuck Your Funding by Ryan Hamilton played at Festival Hub: Trades Hall – Solidarity Hall 30 September – 4 October 2026 as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival
JADE BREEN is a young playwright and theatre practitioner based on Boonwurrung and Wurundjeri country. A proud advocate for diverse and intersectional storytelling, Jade is excited by work that encourages resistance, change and a celebration of identity.
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 2026 Dialog Editor.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre
