Sicks-teen

Adelaide Fringe has always prided itself on being an open access festival. Open to anyone who wants to put on a show, and anyone who wants to see one, but as a disabled maker and theatre goer, in previous years this has always felt like a flashy catch all subtitle, when in reality for many individuals, performers and patrons alike with hidden disabilities, this has not always been the case.

However, returning after an award winning 2025 season, Max Ray’s cabaret ‘Sicks-teen,’ is one of the handful of shows in this year’s lineup that have really broadened, and strengthened the festival’s claim to be open access.

The show explores Ray’s early adolescence battling debilitating chronic illness, their subsequent diagnosis, and the often exhausting process of adjusting to one’s “new normal” after getting the labels. The piece is raw and filled with more heart than fifty dismissive male doctors combined.

There is something beautiful in watching a performer proudly include their accessibility needs live into a piece of theatre, there are no subtle sips of electrolyte and salt laden beverages just out of the spotlight. Ray has literally worked in taking “shots” of them at the direction of their supporting artists, and regularly checks and updates the audience on their heart rate, 180bpm being the highest, for interest, mine, due to my own chronic conditions, hit 155 during the performance, and I wasn’t the one performing up a storm.

Alongside Ray are Millicent Sarre, a celebrated fringe star, with multiple sold out fringe shows under her own belt, and delightfully charming instrumentalist Sebastian Alexander. Sarre and Alexander provide more than artistic backup and practical support, they really round out the work, and showcase the importance that any disabled artist has a strong and compassionate support team, beyond doctors and allied health professionals.

The work delicately weaves the difficulty of early disability and the mourning of so many things we may not get to experience because of it with the vital moments of searching for and finding ‘disability joy.’ It also cleverly and cheekily educates members of the audience on allyship, how to dismantle internal ableism, and stresses the importance of spending less time on Doctor Google.

It’s easy to see why this is an award-winning show for its heart, accessibility, and raucous celebration of self.

Joshua Maxwell