If you’ve ever dreamed of being swept into the saloon-swinging, gun-slinging heart of the Wild West—while clutching a craft beer and laughing at jokes about Brisbane’s endless roadworks or the latest council drama—Queensland Theatre’s Calamity Jane is the galloping good time you didn’t know you needed.
This isn’t your average sit-back-and-clap kind of musical. No, partner. Director Richard Carroll’s rollicking revival invites you onto the stage—literally. Audience members are plonked right in the thick of the Deadwood action, sharing tables with actors, singing along, and sometimes even getting roped into the chaos. If you’re partial to a spotlight and a little friendly humiliation, sit front and centre. If not, perhaps keep to the shadows and nurse your sarsaparilla in peace.
Even for those tucked safely in the regular seating, the immersive magic holds. The set transforms the space into the Garter Saloon with such warmth and worn-in charm, it feels like you’ve wandered into a frontier pub mid-happy hour. Timber paneling, string lights, piano at the ready—there’s a tangible sense that anything could happen, and probably will. It’s not just a stage; it’s a place, alive with music, mischief, and a little mayhem.
But the real star of the show—besides the hilariously out-of-time jokes and whip-smart banter—is Naomi Price’s Calamity. She swaggers, snarls, sings, and softens with such deftness, it’s no wonder the audience was half in love with her by intermission. Vocally, she’s a powerhouse, tearing through toe-tappers like Just Blew In From the Windy City with grit and gusto. But it’s in The Black Hills of Dakota that she truly stops the show—delicate, wistful, and utterly spellbinding. You could hear a spur drop.
Backing her is an ensemble so overflowing with talent, it’s almost unfair. These aren’t just triple threats—they’re quadruple-threats: singing, acting, dancing, and in many cases, playing instruments live on stage without missing a beat. They swap instruments like poker chips, switch characters with a flick of a hat, and still find time to nail a choreographed chair spin or two. It’s a joyful display of versatility, and you get the feeling they’re having as much fun as the audience is.
Special mention must go to Darcy Brown, whose comic timing is as sharp as a sheriff’s badge. Whether he’s strutting as Francis Fryer, dolled up as Miss Frances Fryer, or making hilariously “strong choices” as other unique ensemble characters, he brings the house down every time. He’s a scene-stealer, yes—but he does it with such glee and generosity, you can’t help but root for him.
The ensemble rides hard alongside him, each one doubling and tripling roles with nimble ease and nudge-wink humour. There’s a glorious camaraderie to the whole affair and a sense that anything could happen—audience members suddenly becoming stars, the cast putting their improv skills to good use to rib each other, or even Calamity herself gently roast a willing audience member. It’s chaotic, it’s clever, and it keeps you on your toes.
And don’t worry—while the show’s set firmly in the Old West, its wit is as sharp as a modern-day meme. Expect nods to the recent Queensland cyclone, or jab or two at local politics—the kind of meta, cheeky, humour that makes you feel like you’re in on the joke.
One small caveat: word’s out, and the remaining shows are selling faster than a schooner at knock-off. So saddle up, book quick, and get ready to hoot, holler, and fall in love with a whip-smart woman named Calamity.
Verdict:
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
A rootin’-tootin’ triumph with heart, hilarity and one hell of a heroine.
Calamity Jane, Queensland Theatre, until April 17, Bille Brown Theatre. Get your tickets here.
In her spare time, she likes long walks down the makeup aisle and performing in Brisbane theatre. You can follow her adventures on Instagram and TikTok @thebeautypalate.
