Sydney Festival 2025: Our favourite shows, from Hak Baker to Siegfried & Roy

The Sydney Festival concluded over the weekend, marking the end of a 23-day extravaganza of music, performance, and a touch of magic. This was the final directorial effort of outgoing festival director Olivia Ansell, who will be heading to Toronto to lead the Luminato Festival. Overall, the festival was a success, bringing women, queer, and culturally diverse talent to the forefront, and showcasing art in some of Sydney's underutilized spaces, such as the "Model Murder" at Darlinghurst Courthouse.

Particularly in its first week, the festival took a political stance: "Antigone of the Amazon" explored deforestation in the Amazon through Greek mythology; in "Dark Noon," a South African artist reimagined American history as a Western. However, the political nature of the art once again sparked real-world debates.

During the opening of "Air Time," a circus performance for families by Sydney physical theatre company Branch Nebula, a Palestinian performer expressed solidarity with the people of Gaza. Following audience complaints, the festival issued a content warning for the show, leading artists within the festival to accuse it of censorship. These incidents followed the 2022 festival boycott, when over 30 shows or events were boycotted in response to Ansell’s first directorial effort accepting a $20,000 sponsorship from the Israeli embassy in Canberra.

Despite the uneasy relationship between art and politics, this year's festival still had much to celebrate. We enjoyed the highlights as much as possible, and here are seven of our favorite shows. These included "All's Well That Ends or Land Acknowledgement" by Cree and Lakota man Cliff Cardinal, a stunning performance by Rufus Wainwright, and William Yang’s "Milestones," among others.

"All's Well That Ends or Land Acknowledgement," presented by Cree and Lakota man Cliff Cardinal, debuted early in this year's festival and conveyed a powerful message that resonated with other Indigenous programs, including "Redfern Renaissance" and Dobby's "Wirangu; River Story." Cardinal’s interpretation of "All’s Well" was advertised as "Shakespeare like you've never seen it," and it truly was. Rather than a radical adaptation, Cardinal played a "bait and switch," presenting an 85-minute monologue exploring our individual interactions with political action. From the moment he stepped onto the stage and acknowledged the Gadigal land on which the Sydney Opera House stands, Cardinal was provocative and challenging, leaving nothing (and no one) unscathed. At the end of the performance, he left the theatre lights on while the curtain was closed, making the audience part of the performance.

Canadian-American singer-songwriter Rufus Wainwright, in his headlining performance at the Sydney Festival, revisited several periods of his 30-year career, showcasing many of his early highlights. Introducing "Beautiful Scar," a song dedicated to his late mother, folk singer Kate McGarrigle, he recalled his first performance at the Opera House in 2005, when he and his mother shared the stage in a Leonard Cohen tribute show. Wainwright’s voice remains as magnetic, full, and resonant as it was when he released his debut album in 1998. But another highlight of the performance was when he invited his warm-up act, Melbourne band Folk Bitch Trio, to perform several songs from his 2023 collaborative folk covers album, "Folkocracy." In addition to taking lead on several verses, they delivered stunning harmonies and added richness with extra acoustic and bass guitar.

Songs from his early catalog ("Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk," written and recorded when Wainwright was battling addiction; the baroque pop tune "Art Teacher," with Wainwright tapping the keys of the concert hall’s grand piano; and the must-sing cover of "Hallelujah") garnered the biggest reactions from fans, but Wainwright is not an artist who dwells in the past or wallows in youthful longing. Newer songs, such as 2020's "Peaceful Afternoon," which celebrates the depth of long-term relationships, were gorgeous and warm, moving for their quiet intimacy.

"Milestones," created to mark his 80th birthday, is Australian photographer and performer William Yang's latest work, a monumental ode to Yang’s life and the people who shaped him. Known for his vivid photographs of Sydney’s gay community in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, Yang’s photography has many interwoven threads: his Chinese-Australian heritage; family (chosen and biological); AIDS and illness; and friendship and love. Over the years, Yang has presented his photographs in live performances, accompanied by music. In the 90 minutes of "Milestones," Yang was accompanied by an ad hoc orchestra including composer Elena Kats-Chernin. The light touch worked well, the music never drowning out Yang’s voice, with many passages performed without accompaniment. Those who have seen Yang before will inevitably hear repeated stories, such as Yang's early integration into Sydney's gay life, or the story of his great-granduncle William Fan Yuan, who was murdered by his boss in the 1920s. But hearing these stories again is no bad thing, especially as "Milestones" puts each moment into perspective as just one part of a great life. How lucky we are to hear and see it all.

In "Siegfried & Roy: The Unauthorised Opera," moments of obscenity, absurdity, and tenderness propel the opera forward at a pace that is frankly un-operatic. From their German childhoods to the glitz and glamour of stage magicians and their eventual attack by a performance tiger, the opera tells the 60-year life of the stage magicians in 90 minutes. Kane Breen's wonderful performance as Roy and Christopher Tonkin’s surprisingly restrained performance as Siegfried were not overshadowed by the tiger Mantacore (created by Sydney puppetry company Erth), who is a close second to Joey from "War Horse" on my list of favorite theatre puppets. Director Constantine Costi brings a surprising depth to the tragicomic love story of this central trio, and he is perhaps the happiest of Australia’s current opera directors. The small cast’s vocal performances, particularly Casey-Dee Ryall as Siegfried and Roy’s glamorous assistant Nancy, who brilliantly sings an aria while being sawed in half, make great use of composer Luke Di Somma’s score, a low-key mix of ultra-light Wagner, Bavarian music, jazz, and something slightly rough and distinctive.

Christie Whelan Browne's cabaret show, "Plastic," created in collaboration with Sheridan Harbridge, combines pop songs from the 90s and 00s with the musical theatre star’s true stories about her relationship with her body. It doesn't feel self-indulgent, but rather a voice for a generation of women who were taught to hate their appearance. She does this by engaging in dialogue with a large Barbie doll, her initial point of comparison. Through the Barbie doll, Whelan Browne is able to directly confront her inner critic—and laugh with the audience about things she felt ashamed of when she was younger. Her story of being demoted to a dinosaur costume at a dance competition as an avid dance student is both hilarious and heartbreaking. But the most touching moments of the show come when Whelan Browne talks about her struggle with IVF after years of endometriosis, and how much she hopes her son never loses his confidence—as she did for many years due to casting agent scrutiny, bad relationships, and unfavorable comparisons to others. This brutal self-criticism comes on top of her struggle with the media's portrayal of her as a "party girl," when a photo of her at a hen's party was published in a tabloid. This was after she accused Craig McLachlan of sexually harassing her in 2014 when they were both in "The Rocky Horror Show." He was acquitted in 2020. Whelan Browne is by no means a party girl, but she is hilarious: at the show’s close, she encourages the audience to replicate the hen’s party photo by throwing inflatable penises into the audience; a cheeky gesture to reassert her power.

Following in the footsteps of the queer classic film "But I’m a Cheerleader," the charming musical "Converts!" explores the barbarity of conversion therapy with a farcical, irreverent tone that completely subverts the absurdity of the practice—which is still legal in three Australian states. Created by Vic Zerbst of the comedy duo "A Pinch of Freud," with assistance from composer Oliver John Cameron, "Converts!" is often both hilarious and tearful in the same beat. It tells the story of 17-year-old loner Maya (played by Megan Robinson), whose school counselor recommends she attend a "self-improvement" camp, a conversion therapy camp disguised as treatment for teenage insecurity. While the plot follows familiar beats (especially if you've seen "But I'm a Cheerleader"), "Converts!" is so sincere that the predictability works in its favor. It’s a joy to see queer teenagers finding their strength in their differences, and mocking hatred with it. The actors also sell the pain behind every joke, particularly Robinson, whose presence exudes the pain of a teenager who feels completely alien, especially to themselves. The charm of "Converts!" also comes from its resourcefulness, with vivid choreography and clever stage direction bringing home big emotional moments in a small-scale Australian youth theatre production. A particularly lo-fi stage transition, from the camp to a late-night forest disco, proves how liberating flashing lights and a dance floor can be—and how and why queer people will continue to gather, resiliently.

Huck Baker began his intimate solo show—his second Australian premiere—by apologizing for taking so long to come to Australia: "Criminal record, you know how it is?" he quipped. Growing up in London’s East End, he was a choirboy before becoming part of the hip-hop group Bomb Squad. But it wasn't until his 20s, when he was imprisoned for robbery, that he picked up a guitar. Since then, he has developed a musical style that is part post-Billy Bragg folk, part grime, with a dash of reggae in a new-soul-lined glass. Live, the restrained production of his EPs and albums falls away, becoming very simple and led by the lyrics. The stories told in the songs range from comedic to tragic, with tales of messy nights alongside songs such as "Windrush Baby," which traces his mother’s life from Jamaica to the UK. In the gaps between songs, Baker poked fun at his front-row audience—the people with analog Polaroids, the person in a Liverpool Football Club jersey—and gave each story context, like an old folk singer. There is something special about his presence, something weighty but not heavy, a channel for the stories that London (and Sydney) need.