Melbourne Fringe: The Audience Dies At The End

Canadian performer Blair Moro strikes a somewhat unsettling figure on stage – clad in a leather apron, clutching a blood-soaked rag, and assuring us, with the utmost charm and affability, that by the conclusion of his show the entire audience will have met their untimely and horrific demise.

From here we embark on a fast-paced journey across South-East Asia in pursuit of an elusive Australian girl and some questionable life coaching from Moro’s satanic wingman and a host of other demonic mentors.

The text is slick, coloured with a darkly provocative wit and more meta-theatrical quips than a second-year drama student could wave a mime stick at, while intelligently exploring themes of young love, self-improvement and the philosophical plight of “the performer”.

Moro’s storytelling is sharp and his utilisation of the sparse set and somewhat haphazard array of props and costumes is thoroughly transformative.