★★★★½
Let’s begin with a confession: I have a $5 Treasure Island Casino chip in my bedside drawer. It’s been there for 12 years, ever since a trip with one of my best mates. I have no real reason to keep it, especially since the casino changed over their chips, so it’s quite literally now worthless. But there it still sits.
Queensland Theatre Company’s Torch the Place understands that impulse perfectly. This black comedy by Queensland-born writer Benjamin Law is built on the question every family eventually trips over: what do we do with all the stuff, and all the stories our parents refuse to throw away? Inspired by Law’s own family experience, it’s funny and moving.
Hoarding is easy to sensationalise, but clinically significant. Hoarding disorder is more common than most people realise. A large systematic review and meta-analysis estimated the prevalence at about 2.5% of adults, roughly 1 in 40. Torch the Place doesn’t use that statistic as shock value. It uses it as context for compassion.
The setup is simple. Mum is turning 60. The adult kids arrive with cake, presents and a skip bin. Teresa, the eldest, tries to force an overdue reckoning in an ordinary Gold Coast house that’s become a museum of grudges, Princess Diana trinkets, and late ‘90s relics. It’s not a reunion. It’s an intervention. The play’s genius is that it lets both things be true at the same time.
Law’s writing is deeply Australian, built from Humphrey B. Bear plushies and other nostalgic artefacts. Then it keeps nudging you with pop staples like The NeverEnding Story and Barbies until your own nostalgia starts answering back. The only downside is that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch Hey Hey It’s Saturday the same way again.
It is a fiercely funny and surprisingly tender family story that, on occasion, hits a little too close to home.
In her mainstage solo directing debut, Ngọc Phan holds the household together with impressive confidence. Movements feel natural. Dialogue flows with an easy rhythm. The relationships between this tight-knit family land in a completely believable way. Phan clearly understands the balance this show needs. She lets the comedy breathe, but she never lets the emotional weight disappear underneath it.
The design team matches that clarity beautifully. Jeremy Allen’s set design perfectly captures the chaotic shambles of a hoarder’s castle. While every surface is cluttered with relics and memories, the overall stage never feels confusing or buried.
And even though everything looks wildly out of place, you can tell Allen spent a decent amount of time mulling over each item’s placement to ensure it is exactly where it should be. At its core, it’s visual storytelling that supports the play, without ever demanding attention for itself.
In the background, Wil Hughes sound design works away at building a soundscape that superbly matches the chaos of the family home and its inhabitants. It ticks away in the background like a hoarded grandfather clock, then pokes its head through at just the right time to remind you that this house is full of noise, history and way too much unresolved family tension. It works quietly, but effectively.
Similarly, Briana Clark’s lighting design deserves special praise. In her mainstage debut as sole lighting designer, Clark crafts warm pockets of memory across the stage using complex lighting states that shift seamlessly between present-day chaos and nostalgic recollection. She is absolutely one to watch.
The cast is excellent across the board, and you would never guess that three of the five performers are making their Queensland Theatre debuts if the program did not tell you.
As Teresa, Denise Chan captures the eldest child energy perfectly. She is determined, frustrated, and deeply relatable in her attempts to convince her ageing mother to finally clean up the house. I can guarantee that you will see at least a little bit of yourself in Teresa if you’ve ever had to have a difficult conversation with one of your own parents.
Logan So is instantly likable as Toby, bringing a warm, bubbly energy that makes him very easy to relate to. He finds a really nice balance between humour and sincerity.
Kristie Nguy’s Natalie is also great fun. She absolutely nails that slightly chaotic, social media-obsessed energy of someone who lives online chasing promo packs and freebie deals, but she still manages to ground the character with genuine care for her family.
Peter Thurnwald’s Paul provides a calm centre to the chaos. His relaxed attitude and short shorts become a running visual joke, but the character also functions as the quiet emotional support behind Teresa’s frustration.
And then there is Hsiao-Ling Tang as Diana, whose performance anchors the entire play. Tang delivers Diana’s quick one-liners with razor-sharp timing, constantly defending every piece of so-called junk as if it holds the meaning of life itself.
Her antics are hilarious, but also deeply human. In the beginning, I don’t think anyone could understand why Diana held such meaning in these items. By the end, however, I for one did a full 180 and was entirely in support of her keeping some of her crap. That’s how good an actress Tang is.
In the end, Torch The Place is a story about family. The dysfunctions. The memories. The love. And the strange little relics that tie it all together.
Suffice to say, Benjamin Law has written something that feels unmistakably Australian, but its message travels far beyond the Gold Coast living room it portrays. You may leave wanting to call your mum. Or at the very least, finally deal with that drawer full of things you swear you will throw out one day.
Torch The Place is presented by Queensland Theatre Company and runs to 29 March at the Bille Brown Theatre, 78 Montague Road South Brisbane 4101.
Tickets are available here.
Website: https://queenslandtheatre.com.au/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/qld_theatre/
Photo credits: Stephen Henry
