Dancing robot overlords and a world where memories can be deleted? This show has it all

3 hours ago 3

By Cameron Woodhead

October 23, 2025 — 1.52pm

THEATRE
Control ★★★★
Keziah Warner, Theatre Works Explosives Factory, until November 1

Despite imagining future worlds, science fiction typically explores present questions about human life and society. Works in the genre can date rather quickly, so it’s a tribute to the dramatic imagination of playwright Keziah Warner that her sci-fi theatre triptych, Control, feels as vital and pertinent now as it did at the Red Stitch premiere six years ago.

Sci-fi theatre triptych Control still feels vital and pertinent.

This revival comes to us from the indie newcomers at flatpack, founded by director Olivia Staaf in 2023. Staaf works in science communication and brings a clarity to both the storytelling and the play’s triple vision of how technology and human behaviour exist in a complex feedback loop.

A retro-futuristic vibe does pervade the Big Brother-style space odyssey in the opening act: four misfits are aboard a capsule bound for Mars, their every move captured on camera and witnessed by an audience back on Earth.

It’s been some time since that style of reality TV has been – democratised isn’t the right word – supplanted, perhaps, by social media influencers broadcasting their lives to the universe.

Big Brother was old hat in 2019, to be honest, and I thought then, as I think now, that intentional camp – of a Galaxy Quest or Mel Brooks’ Spaceballs variety – is the best way to tackle the comedy.

Control is brisk and thought-provoking, funny and ultimately moving.

Actors Seon Williams, Faran Martin, Lachlan Herring and Alex Duncan don’t quite go all in with the lampoon of time-worn sci-fi tropes (or the obnoxious performativity of reality TV contestants). There are laugh-out-loud bits, but they may need to forge a stronger comedic conspiracy with the audience to prevent it being the weakest link.

The following two acts slide further into the future and deeper into a dramatic dance between tech and human psychology.

We’re thrust into a digital archive in Melbourne, where a human worker (Williams) deletes people’s unwanted memories under the noses of dancing robot overlords.

And the climax is a poignant duet between a programmer (Martin) and a freshly minted childhood education android (Williams) which – like Blade Runner and the Pygmalion myth before it – probes the relationship between creator and creature, the problem of consciousness, and whether being “human” is more about how you’re treated than any quality you may possess that’s outside your control.

Martin and Williams are especially fine in the closing scenes, but the acting is strong across the board – sensitively tuned to conflicts arising from our use (and abuse) of tech, from the curse of big data and surveillance culture to the wonder, and the threat, of AI.

Lo-fi but evocative design elements – Silvia Weijia Shao’s versatile set, Tomas Gerasimidis’ highly differentiated lighting, Lili Wymond’s glitchy sound, Ami Salinas’ static-filled projections – create three totally distinct sensory panels for the actors to play within.

A brisk and thought-provoking, funny and ultimately moving sci-fi production from an indie company worth watching.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead
This review was written from a preview

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