Daddy ★★★★☆

Daddy ★★★★☆

Daddy starts a conversation that needs to be had and Joel, the creator and performer at its centre, does so through a sugar rush of colour, movement, queerness and unapologetic Black excellence.

Nominally a solo dance work, calling Daddy a solo show doesn’t quite capture what happens in the room. The audience become collaborators, participants and, at times, almost cast members. Each new moment feels like another tableau being constructed before our eyes, leaving you in a constant state of “what next?” and encouraging you to lean further into Joel’s world.

Importantly, participation never feels like a hostage situation. Joel creates space for those eager to volunteer and become part of the work, while making it equally acceptable to sit back and experience it. That balance is difficult to achieve in immersive performance, and here it works beautifully.

Beneath its candy-coloured exterior sits something far deeper. Joel brings Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices and stories into the work, intertwining them with his own family connections, identity and experiences. His exploration of colonisation in Australia can be confronting, but that discomfort has purpose. These are stories that need space, audiences and attention.

Particularly powerful is Joel’s reclamation and use of his mother tongue. There is something deeply affecting about hearing language brought back into a contemporary queer performance space, connecting culture, family, history and identity.

The genius of Daddy is how its playful, almost childlike world creates an entry point into much harder conversations. Audiences arrive amongst colour and play before being trusted with themes carrying considerably more weight.

Fully immersive, deeply personal and unmistakably Fringe, Daddy is performance art with something important to say. Queer Indigenous stories are still far too rarely given this kind of space, and Joel doesn’t simply tell his, he invites us inside it.

This Daddy deserves your attention.