Mackenzie (Bell Shakespeare) ★★★★

Written by Yve Blake, based on Macbeth by William Shakespeare. World Premiere. Bell Shakespeare Company. Neilson Nutshell. 6 Jun – 18 Jul, 2026.

Proving “fair is foul, and foul is fair”, we enter the world of child TV stars in Mackenzie, where pristine public image hides murderous jealousy and fame brings out the direst cruelty. It’s Macbeth, but done as a very dark teen comedy. And there are a few songs too (but it’s not a musical).

On the set of the tween TV hit The Dahlia Show, the producers have a problem. Dahlia’s “best friend” has been axed from the show and they need a last-minute replacement. What about that weird background kid with the bowl-cut, the one named Mackenzie (Kimberley Hodgson)? When they send the awkward thirteen-year-old for a makeover, the hairstylist has a vision — literally. She sees a future in which Mackenzie is number one on the call sheet and the biggest teen star in the world… but only until a younger performer comes to usurp her. To hang onto her Teen Choice Award crown, Mackenzie must become a deadly diva with no room for remorse.

Okay, I’ll cop to a big misunderstanding — and it’s all my fault. I thought Mackenzie was a musical, despite the marketing clearly saying this is a “play with songs”. With Fangirls’ Yve Blake on writing duty, the teen pop setting and an MT-performer cast, I assumed there’d be more songs than there are. It does have big “musical theatre” energy and there are a couple of Blake’s signature catchy pop pastiches in the show, but they’re very secondary to the action.

With that out of the way, we turn to this tonally hyperactive show: part Lizzie McGuire/Hannah Montana parody, part Kath & Kim comedy, part Heathers teen murder fantasy, part Showgirls dark camp. It takes the broad strokes of Macbeth — including a subtle riff on Lady Macbeth’s “damn spot” and a twist on “none of woman born” that will either make you rejoice or rile you up — and layers in the sick underbelly of washed-up child stars, pushy stage “momagers” and paparazzi up-skirt shots. It’s a lot, no doubt. Wildly genre-smashing but equally wildly entertaining, it has all the ingredients of a cult classic.

Blake’s script hits the familiar touchstones of the teen-star life we know from tabloids and Netflix exposé documentaries, threaded together with the kind of love that comes from someone with a genuine connection to that era and those stories just as she showed with Fangirls’ take on boyband mania. The Disney Channel-esque setting gives the story real leeway for its big tonal swings (those shows got away with wild storylines on a handful of props and dedicated performances — just like live theatre does). The more steeped you are, or were, in those shows and their stars fates, the more fun you’ll have.

The “ridiculously talented”^TM Virginia Gay directs with real verve, channelling the hyperactive energy of kids TV while letting the emerging teen angst breathe. The clash of tones, crazy wigs and threadbare budget actually enhance the Kids TV vibe rather than distract from it. While the staging is disappointingly minimal, lacking the colour & life of the marketing, Mackenzie moves like a sleek bullet train that never gives you time to get off or question it too deeply.

The six-strong cast, alongside the Bell Shakespeare backstage crew, have mastered the art of the quick change, covering multiple roles — often in the same scene. Jane Watt is the show’s MVP, nailing a host of roles including the prophetic hairdresser Pickle and the TV producer. Billie Palin matches her, covering smaller roles including show caterer Gayle. Ryan González is reliably funny and adorable as Mackenzie’s co-star Beau, with comedic timing expertly on point. Anusha Thomas is irrepressible as both teen superstar Dahlia and Mackenzie’s long-suffering assistant. Nikki Britton gives us the full emotional range as Mackenzie’s pushy mum Ruth — this show’s Lady Macbeth — moving from comedically grotesque stage parent to a genuinely affecting finale. At the centre is Kimberley Hodgson, whose chameleonic performance takes Mackenzie from excited tween to distraught accomplice to avaricious mini-mogul — emotionally grounded throughout the bizarre extravagance that surrounds her.

There’s no shortage of real life tween-actress-turned-pop-star for generations of audiences to relate to — whether your touchstone is Hilary Duff, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato or Sabrina Carpenter, it’s much the same story. But I can’t help wondering: who is this show for? The discussion of incest rules out the family-friendly crowd looking for teen-accessible Shakespeare, despite the hyper-pastel marketing appeal. Shakespeare purists will run a mile from this Macbeth-lite, devoid of classic language (yes, I’ve quoted more Macbeth in this review than you’ll find in the play). The musical theatre crowd will want their stars belting ballads and bemoan the paucity of tunes. The opening night crowd loved the insider jokes about independent theatre, but will a mass audience? Can this “Diet Shakespeare” satisfy both unfamiliar newbies and devotees looking for a fresh take? Mackenzie hits the same dilemma its lead character does – can it make itself a bit sexy so it’s appealing, but not try to be so sexy that it’s cringe?

In a world littered with the used-to-be-famous, whose adult lives are often “but a walking shadow” selling real estate or working behind the scenes, Mackenzie doesn’t really grapple with the aftermath it plays with and in the end, that’s totally fine. “Come what come may”, this is a camp, murderous pantomime covered in candy floss, and it knows exactly what it is.