JULIET WAS HERE | Melbourne Theatre Company, Opening Night

(An evening of theatre, red carpets, and 90s dress codes)

I’ve been lucky enough to attend a few opening nights with MTC, but this one felt extra.

From the blue flags outside, matching the theme of the show’s ads, to the Arts Centre sign glowing the same shade, to the blue cake pops handed out on arrival, everything was perfectly coordinated. A red carpet photo wall stood at the entrance, where Milo Hartill, dressed in full 90s glam, interviewed guests as they arrived. The foyer was buzzing, more crowded than I’d seen it before, with at least half the room embracing the “bright and bold 90s” dress code.

That morning, Sam (my plus one for this and most things) and I googled “90s red carpet” for ideas. Sam nailed it. I landed on a photo of Jennifer Aniston in an all-black look and copied her.

We had great seats. Next to us was a mix of familiar faces and new ones: an old friend of mine who arrived with Colette Mann (yes, that Colette Mann from Neighbours), and on Sam’s side, his friend Tim, Tim Kano, also from Neighbours. One of those “Melbourne is small” nights.

Colette was the best kind of person to sit beside. Warm, generous, and full of knowledge. I admitted I don’t know much about theatre, and she lit up, keen to share what she knew. She pointed out how impressive young actor Darcy Wain (Seth) was, and explained how musical theatre often works: singing first, then acting, then dancing. She knew almost everyone, Marina Prior, Christie Whelan Browne, Casey Donovan, and spoke about how director Mitchell Butel hand-picked the leads and auditioned the rest.

Sam, with his lighting and set designer brain, pointed out how crisp the illuminated “1999” looked against the curtain, and how clever the rotating set was.

The show itself was warm, funny, and unexpectedly tender. It got a standing ovation. Marina and Casey’s voices were incredible. There were moments where the whole room couldn’t help but laugh out loud, or let out sounds of affirmation in unison. It’s sad in parts too, but you leave feeling proud of Kimberly Akimbo herself, this endearing, big-hearted character.

I’m always amazed by what theatre people can do, the live singing, acting, timing, all of it. It’s special watching it happen right in front of you.

Afterwards, we spilled into an events space nearby for bubbles (too many for a Wednesday), arancini, and bite-sized pies. More mingling, more “only in Melbourne” moments.

A really fun night, and one of those times I feel grateful to be in the room.

Kimberly Akimbo
On now until 30 August 2025
Arts Centre Melbourne, Playhouse