Cold War 2.0 (Sydney Fringe)

Presented by Doppelgangster. Sydney Fringe. Fringe on the Rocks. 9-20 Sep, 2026.

N.B. – I’m not giving star ratings to Sydney Fringe shows.

I wasn’t going to review Cold War 2.0. I walked out of the theatre bewildered, frustrated and annoyed — while feigning mild bemusement to my friends who attended with me. I really wasn’t going to write this review because I felt like I had nothing to say about a show that is bombastic and seems to say so much — but I just couldn’t grasp it in any form that would translate to anything approaching a “review.” As I write this, I’m still not sure I will post it — is this a review? We’ll find out.

But then, as I was sitting in the afternoon sun, unironically listening to Mariah Carey’s seminal EP “MTV Unplugged” (I’ve rediscovered my CD collection) I was struck by one of my favourite quotes:

“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.”

No, that’s a lie, the quote I thought of is actually “Talking about love is like dancing about architecture,” which is a misquote from a mediocre 90s movie I secretly love (“Playing By Heart,” starring Gillian Anderson, Sean Connery, Angelina Jolie and many more). But then no one has any idea whose quote it is, or where it started originally so it’s all fair game really.

And I realised why I was struggling to wrap my limited mental faculties around Cold War 2.0. I was trying to write about a piece of art that felt more like a dance work than traditional theatre. I was trying to be literal, linear and considered in the face of something that was never designed that way. Suddenly all my feelings and frustrations clicked into place — what if I stopped trying to understand its words and simply felt the performance.

I have no idea if that is what provocateur collective Doppelgangster had in mind, but that is how I responded to the work, and all responses are valid in art so fuck what they think.

Cold War 2.0 made me feel stupid, with its offhand references to political theory, philosophy and other smarty-pants blah-blah I never studied. Cold War 2.0 made me angry because it made my ears ring incessantly from the screams of music (I’m calling this a musical by the way. Cold War 2.0 is a punk musical, whether they fucking like it or not). Cold War 2.0 made me sad. Sad at the flailing impotence of rage, sad at the ineffectual nature of art to create change, sad at the fact that Sydney’s theatre scene is so narrow that we rarely get work with this much emotion, rough power or devotion.

Don’t get me wrong — I kinda hated the whole damn thing. I would not go back to watch it again. But I love the fact that it exists and refuses to conform.

Take the lyric: “Titannic was an inside job. Never was an iceberg. Never was a god.” – what does god have to do with it other than forming a slant rhyme? Urgh – funny lyric, but also still annoying for its imprecision.

I felt uncomfortable by design (the paranoia of losing your phone, or the fear of being pulled up on stage, or even dancing in public) but the question is, what was the point of that discomfort? Falling back to those safe and familiar critical maxims — What is the artist trying to do? Are they doing it well? Is it worth it? The answers are, ‘I don’t know’, ‘I don’t know’ and ‘if that’s your kind of thing’, but they were definitely doing something with a lot of sweaty gusto.

Like a screaming baby, it may not be the most nuanced or effective way to communicate, but you get the idea pretty quick — I’m hungry, or I just shat myself.

What I can confidently say is Cold War 2.0 is a show that I saw. After that, you’re on your own — buy a ticket and see for yourself. Or don’t. Up to you. But if you do — take ear plugs!

P.S. I hope performer Tobias Manderson-Galvin’s ribs are okay.

P.P.S. Don’t be fooled by the promo image, there is no polar bear in the show.

P.P.P.S. Oh crap, they’re going to use “I just shat myself” as a pull quote aren’t they?