
♥️
The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created or destroyed. It is only converted or transferred. In times of personal change, or loss, or any kind of flux, I find this principle to be incredibly comforting. Sure, it usually applies more to physics and engineering theory, but there is also an oddly poetic quality about it. It can be nice to imagine that nothing is ever truly over, it only moves on; evolves. Short Shorts, and really Centrestage as well, is a perfect example of evolution. Centrestage had already existed for a few years before Short Shorts, functioning as a learning tool for burgeoning theatre youths. It was a necessary alternative to the 1812’s main stage, an opportunity and an entry-point to develop those who may have been a bit more novice. Short Shorts was the yearly original short play festival, showcasing local talents and their multitudes. It had become a beloved tradition, a staple of this community. As of the conclusion of their closing performance on Saturday, the 31st of January, 2026, Centrestage officially finished up for the foreseeable future.
It really couldn’t have ended on a better note. Emotions were understandably high, and the cast managed to stay completely locked in. It was the tightest of the three runs I managed to catch too. These actors landed each beat like acrobats. Gone were any semblance of opening night nerves, or any late-week energy dips. The show was electric. Full of hilarious, complex, and deeply moving moments, sometimes all within the span of a single play. It even dipped its toes into horror, with Jaime Watts’ subversive “There’s Something Wrong With Isaiah Evans”. The tonal shifts this short had to work with made it all the more impressive when it was pulled off. The pure comedies were structured like professional sketches, “The Meeting That Goes Wrong” portrays a farcical teachers staff room. An impressive writing debut by Brian Wiltshire, it escalates tensions through gut-busting, occasionally unfortunate situations. Chloe Neale’s “Love Connections” sees a crypto bro bachelor get embarrassed on a TV game show designed to find people love. It’s the most sincere goof-off of the lot, and one I always looked forward to.
The ending note of “The Adventures of Bear Man and Otter” was an immersive revival of 1960’s Silver Age comic book superhero storytelling. The romantic reveal between the titular characters in its second leg is ultimately heartwarming. It peels the layers back on all the bravado and posing, showing us a side of some of these heroic figures we never would see otherwise. It’s like when a kid’s cartoon gets ultra real for a single episode, then they never return to that storyline ever again. It’s the perfect blend of silly entertainment and sentimental value. Elsewhere in the playlist, silly entertainment plays a more minor role within the larger macro of “Crossing Wires”. An exploration of connection in a growing technocracy. As A.I and uncanny humanoid droids resemble us more and more, the line between humanity and robotics is starting to blur a little too much for comfort. While not an overt study of this exact phenomenon, it’s also not hard to see this dynamic being possible sooner rather than later. George, the robot, and Lex, the human, struggle to fully come to terms with each other’s existences. Lex can’t fathom George’s emotionless programming, and George will never actually feel the human experience. As Lex says, it’s tragic.
I would be remiss though to not mention the opening short, Liv Carlisle’s “Cheers For The Memories”. A ghost stuck in purgatory visits their (ex) partner to get to the bottom of the alive one’s stagnant state. This is where I feel that the most apt metaphor for this theatre community and its situation is made. I had a small hunch initially upon viewing that maybe there was a relationship between these two things. It became clearest to me though, and I think a lot of people on closing night (there were some on-stage realisations happening, for sure). Yes, it is a new chapter. Yes, it is exciting in its unknown promise. That doesn’t mean it isn’t still difficult to lose. Moving on is part of the process, but so is the actual act of saying goodbye. One must make peace with leaving before one can truly leave, I suppose.
To all of you reading this who may have been involved, whether recently or in a past life, you should feel incredibly proud to have been a part of something so special and exciting. The maturation of Centrestage has been a joy to both witness and be a part of, and is really everything I love about doing theatre. Developing your own abilities, out-doing yourself each time, yet also contributing to the development and forward progression of your co-stars and the theatre itself. Seeing so many Lyrebird nominations for Centrestage’s adaptation of ‘Sweeney Todd: On The Razor’s Edge’ is such a fitting way to be able to close things out now. While it’s bittersweet, and it will feel strange not having Short Shorts or the winter full-length to look forward to, there are plenty of other things to get excited about. We take this energy, and we transfer it to other things. We begin a new theatre life, one coloured by the experiences and skills acquired in the last. Now, we begin.
