Some nights you walk into the theatre expecting entertainment. Others, you walk out carrying a fire that refuses to go out. Amplified: The Exquisite Rock and Rage of Chrissy Amphlett, now roaring through Melbourne’s Comedy Theatre for a strictly limited season, is unequivocally the latter.
In a month when Melbourne is buzzing with stand-up and festival comedy, Amplified cuts through as something different — a theatrical rock cabaret that trades punchlines for power chords, memory and myth. I walked in knowing almost nothing about Chrissy Amphlett beyond the broad strokes of Divinyls mythology. I walked out feeling like I had been invited into a wild, vulnerable, funny, painful conversation with a woman I wish I had met while she was still here — and with an audience who clearly grew up with her as their soundtrack.
A Name We Think We Know, Until We Really Listen
Most Australians think they know Christine Joy Amphlett: the razor-sharp wit, the unapologetic sexuality, the iconic schoolgirl uniform, the powerhouse vocals that could slice through the thickest pub air. As frontwoman of Divinyls, she delivered some of the most unforgettable lines in Australian rock — “I don’t want anybody else / When I think about you, I touch myself” from I Touch Myself becoming a global anthem of female sexual autonomy, while “I am just a red brassiere / To all the boys in town / Put this bus in top gear / Get me out of here” captured the grit and frustration of the early 80s scene.
But Amplified reminds us that behind the storm and swagger was an artist who spent her life exploring the thin line between pleasure and pain, vulnerability and aggression — a line she later used as the title of her memoir, Pleasure and Pain. It also gently reveals a woman who, despite her public ferocity, battled private demons: multiple sclerosis, breast cancer, and the quiet, relentless negotiations required to survive as a woman in a male-dominated industry.
As someone born in the 80s, I arrived without personal nostalgia. The audience around me did not. They knew. They felt. And by the end of the show, so did I.
The Crow, The Light and The Courage to Be Seen
One of the most exquisite through-lines of the night is the crow: a recurring motif that threads through the production and Harbridge’s performance with dark humour and surprising tenderness. Other reviewers have noted this recurring crow image as a clever device; witnessing it live, it felt like much more: an invitation to sit with the question of how an artist sees herself when the world insists on defining her.
To “be the crow” is, at first glance, to choose something ordinary, functional, and unspectacular. A bird that picks at the edges, cleans up the mess, lives at the margins. But crows are also intelligent, watchful, survivors. Sitting in the Comedy Theatre, I couldn’t shake the sense that the crow is both disguise and declaration. It is an identity to hide inside when the light feels too harsh and a reminder that even the creatures we dismiss have a vital role in the ecosystem.
Chrissy, as portrayed here, is afraid of the light and hungry for it at the same time. That duality — the woman who wants to disappear and the performer who demands every eye in the room, is what makes this show so compelling. It asks: what if you never truly feel “worthy” of being the peacock, the eagle, the swan, but the world needs you exactly as the crow?
Women With a Purpose Before The World Was Ready
If you are a woman in 2026 with a strong voice, a big vision and a refusal to shrink, Amplified hits differently. The production honours Chrissy as one of those women who walked into a time that simply wasn’t ready and did it anyway, in a short skirt and a long fuse, perpetually “giving the finger” to a system that wanted her submissive and silent.
Sitting in that room, I felt a deep gratitude for women like her, who carved up the path with their bare hands so that women like me can now stand on stages, run companies, speak loudly online and off, and be considered “bold” rather than “impossible”. When Chrissy refuses the label of “wife material” or speaks openly about being perpetually at odds with the misogynist flow of rock and roll, it lands as both a time capsule and a mirror. The diseases she ultimately faced, MS and breast cancer, are heartbreakingly familiar to us today. Her words, like “Life is not fair. Even rock stars get breast cancer” and “We must never be afraid”, feel chillingly current rather than archival.
Amplified doesn’t sanitise any of this. It lets the mess, the rage, the dirty jokes and the sharp edges live alongside the tenderness. It gives us a woman who was allowed to be “too much” before that phrase was ready to be reclaimed as a compliment.
Sheridan Harbridge: The One-Woman, One-Crow ShowThe Music: Where the Story Lives
Many reviews have already rightly called Sheridan Harbridge “faultless”, “electrifying”, “a thrilling sensation”, and “a rendezvous with posterity”. All of that is true. What feels important to add from this seat in the Comedy Theatre is this: there is a rare, alchemical moment when an artist stops “playing” someone and instead becomes a kind of portal. That is what Harbridge achieves here.
Known for originating the role of Tessa in Prima Facie, a one-woman play that grew from a small Kings Cross theatre to a global phenomenon seen by over one million people, Harbridge is no stranger to carrying an entire world on her shoulders. In Amplified, she takes that mastery and stretches it across rock concert, stand-up comedy, intimate confession and myth-making, sometimes all within the same breath.
She is, in one body, a storyteller, a rocker, a comedian and a witness. Her timing is surgical; her ability to turn on a dime from a filthy punchline to a gut-punch of vulnerability is astonishing. Importantly, she does not imitate Chrissy. She reaches for the “spell” Chrissy cast — that intoxicating mix of danger, humour and eye-contact honesty and holds it up for us to feel without ever pretending to be her. At moments, it genuinely feels like a “one crow show”: a woman perched between worlds, cawing at the absurdity, picking at the bones of memory, refusing to let us look away.
Watching her, you are acutely aware that this is not just a tribute to an icon gone too soon. It is also a celebration of a living artist in her prime, doing work that will be spoken about for years.
The Band, The Songs, The Rough Edges That Feel Just Right
Under the musical direction of Glenn Moorhouse (Hedwig and the Angry Inch), the four-piece band gives the night its muscular heartbeat. Other critics have praised how they never slip into impersonation while still honouring the familiar Divinyls sound; in the room, that nuance feels vital. Some songs are delivered with such faithful ferocity that you can see shoulders in the stalls twitch in recognition. Others are stripped back or warped just enough to let the lyrics re-enter your body as if you’re hearing them for the first time.
There is a deliberate scruffiness to some transitions, a refusal to sand everything down into something polite or polished. That choice keeps the spirit of pub rock alive inside a beautifully restored 1920s theatre, and it feels exactly right for a woman who never played nice for anyone.
The Audience of A Generation Remembering Itself
One of the most moving parts of the night had nothing to do with the stage and everything to do with the people sitting around me. I was born in the 80s. Most of the crowd were the teenagers of that era — the ones who first met Chrissy under dim lights in sticky-floored venues and then carried her songs with them into marriages, divorces, careers, and quieter suburban lives.
Watching them was like watching a generation remember itself.
Bodies were rocking in their seats, arms raised with a kind of restrained abandon, bursts of laughter at jokes I didn’t fully understand because they belonged to a very specific shared history. The resonance in the room made me wonder: how many of the women here dimmed their own light because their world was not ready? How many men found, in Chrissy, a compass point for the kind of woman they wanted to admire, support or become?
Interestingly, men made up a large percentage of the audience. There was something deeply touching about seeing them lean in, mouthing lyrics, nodding at lines that clearly hit home. Were they the young men who once idolised Chrissy from the mosh pit? The ones who quietly championed the women in their lives who wanted “too much”? Or were they simply here to honour a musician who refused to make herself smaller in a culture that often demanded it?
I left with as many questions as answers, which, to me, is a sign of a night that did more than entertain. It provoked.
The Comedy Theatre: An Intimate Cathedral for Rock and Memory
The Comedy Theatre, with its 1928 Spanish-style architecture and Florentine exterior, has long been one of Melbourne’s most intimate, character-rich venues. Owned and operated by Marriner Group, it manages that rare feat of feeling both grand and deeply personal; you are never too far from the stage to feel the performers’ breath, nor too close to lose the sense of occasion.
For Amplified, this intimacy is everything. Chrissy Amphlett never performed from a safe distance. She prowled, teased, and confronted. This production preserves that proximity; you feel the vibrations of the band, the sting of the jokes, the quiet in the moments when the crow hovers between flight and fall.
As with A Christmas Carol and other productions Glamorazzi has covered here, the experience begins the moment you step inside the building — and this time, it’s like stepping into a collective memory that predates you, yet somehow welcomes you in.
Should You Go?
If you love Chrissy Amphlett, you already know the answer. This is a must. If you only know I Touch Myself and vaguely recall the image of a woman in a school uniform snarling into a microphone, this is an opportunity to meet the human, the artist, the crow behind the legend.
Amplified is, as The Scoop called it, “a blistering, big-hearted rock odyssey that roars” — and as Stage Noise, Limelight, Arts Review, Suzy Goes See and so many others have agreed, it is also a politically charged, emotionally generous, theatrically inventive tribute that refuses to tame its subject. What those reviews cannot give you, and what you can only get in the room, is the feeling of being surrounded by a generation quietly revisiting their own youth, their own compromises, their own fierce younger selves.
As a woman standing on the shoulders of women like Chrissy, I left feeling grateful, energised and a little more determined never to dim my own light. That alone makes the night worth it.
This is a strictly limited season at the Comedy Theatre from 19–22 March, with only five shows. It has sold out across its tour. If you are even half considering it, let this be your sign: book now via Ticketek. Life is not fair, as Chrissy reminded us — and even rock stars run out of time. Don’t let this one pass you by.
Contains coarse language and mature themes. Recommended for mature audiences.
FAQs
What is Amplified: The Exquisite Rock and Rage of Chrissy Amphlett about?
Amplified is an electrifying, genre-defying theatrical cabaret that channels the fierce spirit of Chrissy Amphlett — legendary frontwoman of Divinyls — through her most iconic songs and deeply personal anecdotes. The show traces her rise from suburban Australian pubs to international fame, drawing on a one-woman show Chrissy had been developing before her passing in 2013. It was created with the blessing and involvement of her husband, Charley Drayton.
Who plays Chrissy Amphlett in Amplified?
The show stars Sheridan Harbridge, one of Australia’s most acclaimed theatre performers, best known for originating the role of Tessa in the globally celebrated one-woman play Prima Facie, which was seen by over one million people worldwide and translated into more than 30 languages.
Who directed Amplified?
The show was co-created and directed by multi-award-winning director Sarah Goodes, known for her acclaimed work on Julia. Musical direction is led by Glenn Moorhouse.
Where is Amplified playing in Melbourne, and when?
At the Comedy Theatre, 240 Exhibition Street, Melbourne CBD. The strictly limited season runs from 19 – 22 March 2026, with five shows only.
Where can I buy tickets for Amplified in Melbourne?
Tickets are available via Ticketek and at amplifiedlive.com.au. Given its track record of selling out, early booking is strongly recommended.
Is Amplified suitable for all ages?
The show contains coarse language and mature themes and is recommended for mature audiences.
What songs are in Amplified?
Has Amplified played elsewhere before Melbourne's Comedy Theatre season?
Yes — the show premiered at UMAC in Melbourne in June 2025, earned a sold-out, five-star season at Belvoir St Theatre in Sydney, and subsequently played Ballarat and Geelong (Chrissy Amphlett’s hometown) before returning to Melbourne.
Disclaimer: Glamorazzi representatives Roslyn Foo & Sebnem Gencer attended the opening night of Amplified at Comedy Theatre Melbourne on 19th March 2026, invited by GoodHumans PR. All opinions expressed are entirely our own.
