It’s Monday night but there is standing room only. Thanks to the boys from The Chaser, the Giant Dwarf has become a hub for quirky, psuedo-intellectual performance with regular showcases like The Chaser’s Empty Vessel and Erotic Fan Fiction.

The performers are a strange smorgasbord of musicians, actors, comedians and poets. The Year 6 prefects of Yarramadoon Public School (grown women in costume) leap on stage in legionnaires hats and high waisted tracksuits to present the history of their convict town. While this act turns out to be a plug for an upcoming great debate event, the audience still laps up the cringe-worthy tales about bogan Target and felon scavenger hunts, and a special mention must go to the inclusion of the beloved recorder accompanying the performance.

‘The 5 Step Guide to Manhood’, performed by duo Small Town (James Brown and Matt Prest) cleverly parodies the formula of success seminars. Their physicality is captivating; from explaining how to achieve the exaggerated man stance, to a dramatic practice in the regular release of hysterical man crying, and a musical dedication to their dads, the boys offer accessible humour that challenges the assumptions of modern masculinity.

‘Lovely’ performed by Jackson Davis and Carly Young uses multimedia to pay homage to the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman. A series of shot-for-shot recreations with screen grabs and camera, side by side, of scenes from some of his most recent movies, resurrects the intensity and fervour of the secretive and successful actor. Despite a few technical issues, Davis and Young have potential to be the next act with a dedicated cult following.

In ‘Think Twice’, Ivan Cheng masterfully weaves prosaic monologue with punchy physicality to explore pop culture. His performance moves from lyrical interpretations of Celine Dion to double entendres of Sandra Bullock’s Miss Congeniality. His ironic anecdotes and singing amongst smoke machines contrast starkly to the parody of earlier acts creating an aura of mystery and mischief.

The closing act was a gutsy country music performance by Fanny Lumsden and her Double Bassist, Dan Freeman. Their toe-tapping tunes and cheeky melodic duets took us on a ride through the countryside. When requested for an encore they broke into a surprise rendition of Destiny’s Child’s ‘Say My Name’, before finishing with a macabre number about a violent uncle who once shot off his own toe, which highlights the range of hilarious and absorbing performances that characterised the night.

You can’t be sure what you’re going to get at Cut & Paste, but with such a variety, there is sure to be something to get you in stitches, even if it is just the ridiculous raffle prizes and funny fillers

Keep your eye on Rock Surfers Theatre Company to catch the details of the next Cut & Paste.

Reviewed by Eliza Berlage.

We’re instantly submerged in the imaginative mind of young Davina (Natalia Dyer), captured by the dreamy underwater scene, old home videos and the Arcade-Fire-meets-Regina-Spektor soundtrack of the opening credits. When Davina finally, suddenly, surfaces from her underwater daydream, we get the sense that she feels trapped, having to take care of her disabled mother (Toni Meyerhoff), and longs to escape reality – which later comes in the form of Sterling (Peter Veck), a punkish, slacker type. She is rushing towards independence. He is chasing youthful abandon and recklessness. But both want to run away from their responsibilities, and so embark on a road trip together. Yet the further they travel, the distance between them grows and it soon becomes apparent they’re both at different points in their lives, headed in different directions. One wants to go back, the other forward, and ultimately, neither can settle on – nor reach – their destination. Although I Believe In Unicorns starts off dreamily, the relationship between Davina and Sterling is not as magical as the film’s title suggests.

If you think this film is going to be twee (all polaroids, sparklers and unicorns, which it does have), it’s more in the ilk of explosive cupcakes and melting doll faces – the stop motion in this film is absolutely mesmerising. It’s beautiful and twisted, which foreshadows the troubled relationship between Davina and Sterling. Although the believability of how these two characters can be attracted to each other (she’s a sensitive, sexually-naïve 16-year-old; he’s a good-looking older guy) is questionable on paper, the film is well-acted. Dyer has a strong screen presence, playing Davina with such intensity and emotional maturity, while Veck manages to balance broodiness with boyish charms.

It could be easy to dislike this film. The voiceover, dialogue, and storyline is stunted and awkward, but arguably poetic and beautiful in its simplicity.  Shot in super eight, there’s a warm, vintage tone to the film that contributes to its intense intimacy. The lens flare and filters in dreamlike sequences add to this Instagram-ish feel, which might irk not so much as displease certain camps in the audience. But Meyerhoff achieves a good balance with this aesthetic, weaving it in seamlessly with the main story, and using it purposefully to highlight the wild and vivid emotional terrain of adolescence.

In an industry that’s traditionally and overwhelmingly a boys club, writer/director Leah Meyerhoff emerges as a refreshing voice with her feature debut, which presents the experience of coming-of-age from a female perspective. Visually stunning and with leading performances, I Believe in Unicorns shows a lot of promise, and paints an intensely intimate portrait of growing up.