Everyone remembers their first job, right? Well, at the tender age of 16, I asked my parents to get my first job. They replied, “School IS your job.” Eventually, they suggested I join Woollies or Coles, instead of a fast food chain like everyone else. And now I can see why!
Canberra Youth Theatre’s Work, But This Time Like You Mean It captures the absolute absurdity that occurs within such restaurants. It is a madcap, fever-dream experience. Though it never names its location, the show is full of chicken references, so you can put two and two together.
Written by Honor Webster-Mannison as part of the company’s Emerging Playwright Commission, this new Australian work premiered in Canberra before making its Sydney debut.
The program describes it as “an unhinged deep-fryer dive into the lives of overworked, underpaid teenage wage-slaves,” and it’s not wrong. The play explores youth labour, corporate control, and identity in the fluorescent glow of capitalism.
We meet a group of young workers known only by their job titles: Shift Manager, Drive, Food Prep, Deep Fryer, Register One, Register Two, and Regular (a customer).
Each of them is stuck in a seemingly never-ending looping cycle of work, exhaustion, and faint rebellion. Their conversations oscillate between the mundane and the profound. From “What’s happening with order 151?” to “We’re out of buns!” and even, “I think I love you.”
I laughed often. Okay, very often. The unconventional nature of the story’s episodic segments blends the absurdist genre with cutting social commentary. The ‘chicken dance’ sequence was my favourite, the ‘western’ my least.
Webster-Mannison writes each character with a keen and deep understanding of how young people navigate systems not built for them. I left the theatre in sheer disbelief at what my eyes had just witnessed.
Director Luke Rogers’ staging balances chaos with stillness. There are always five or more things happening on stage, and at least three of them are jokes. Kathleen Kershaw’s set and costumes perfectly mesh a fast-food kitchen with an indoor kids’ playground. The design traps the performers inside a world that feels both icky and playful.
Ethan Hamill’s lighting and video design add dozens of visual layers, turning fluorescent absurdity into depressing realism. Patrick Haesler’s sound and composition give the space its pulse – an almost rhythmic clanking of machines contrasted by the mundane monotony of checkouts.
The ensemble cast is uniformly strong. Blue Hyslop’s weary authority as Shift Manager gives the play its anchor. Kathleen Dunkerley and Emma Piva as Register One and Register Two deliver performances full of sharp humour and surprising depth.
Matthew Hogan and Sterling Notley are a brilliant comedic duo as Deep Fryer and Food Prep; their slapstick is impeccable. Quinn Goodwin’s dreariness as Drive is exceptional.
Georgie Bianchini acts as Kiosk, the new recruit, innocent and naive to the wild ride she is in for. Hannah Cornelia’s Regular adds an external mirror, reflecting how easily routine can dehumanise both worker and customer.
Canberra Youth Theatre once again proves its commitment to bold, original storytelling. This is theatre made by and for young people who refuse to stay quiet about the world they inherit.
Work, But This Time Like You Mean It is a discombobulating rollercoaster that will have you walking out saying, “What in the world did I just watch?” with the biggest smile plastered onto your face.
Work, But This Time Like You Mean It is presented by Canberra Youth Theatre and runs to 18 October at The Rebel Theatre. Pier 2/3, Hickson Road, Walsh Bay NSW 2000.
Tickets: https://events.humanitix.com/work-but-this-time-like-you-mean-it
Website: https://canberrayouththeatre.com.au/production/work-but-2025/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/canberrayouththeatre/
Photo credits: David Hooley
