They Will Be Kings - Fri Nov 6 @Townsville Civic Theatre
Updated: 2 days ago

It is wonderful to see Townsville audiences being given access to theatre that not only entertains but challenges some of the assumptions about gender, identity and masculinity that remain deeply embedded in popular culture. They Will Be Kings, which arrived at Townsville Civic Theatre following sold-out Sydney seasons, is one such work: playful and provocative, deeply personal yet exuberantly communal.
Created by acclaimed theatre-maker Kaz Therese and "The King Coach" Danica Lani, They Will Be Kings explores the politics of joy, power and gender through the experiences of trans-masc, non-binary and lesbian drag kings. The work began with a pilot season at Qtopia as part of the 2025 Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Festival before returning for a further Sydney season in 2026. Presented in Townsville by Civic Theatre and Cre8ion, the production brings together performers Beks Blake, Danica Lani, Chris McAllister and Angel Tan.
One of the production's most engaging ideas emerges immediately: where are all the world-famous drag kings?
The ensemble trawls through popular and historical culture in search of recognisable examples, landing on an unlikely collection that includes Joan of Arc and Victor/Victoria, with a wonderfully comic suggestion of Elton John thrown into the mix. It is a funny sequence, but the joke exposes a genuine cultural blind spot.
Compare this with the visibility of drag queens and female impersonators. Names such as RuPaul and Divine have long since moved beyond queer performance spaces and into mainstream popular consciousness, while Australia has produced figures as culturally ubiquitous as Dame Edna Everage and, more recently, Courtney Act.
So why are the kings still comparatively invisible?
That question sits at the heart of They Will Be Kings. Indeed, Kaz Therese has argued publicly that there is "absolutely no reason why Drag Kings shouldn’t be embraced in the same way as Drag Queens." The absence becomes more than a punchline. It invites us to consider whose versions of gender performance are given cultural space, and whose remain on the margins.
The performers respond to that invisibility not with solemnity, but with joy. One of the great strengths of They Will Be Kings is the palpable excitement generated as each performer adopts and explores a masculine persona. Masculinity here is not presented as one fixed identity. It is something elastic, theatrical and available for playful reinvention.
From here, the production moves through a series of personal vignettes examining gender fluidity and different manifestations of masculinity, including Asian masculinity. The symbolic removal of bras becomes an act of transformation as the performers strip away expectations and begin constructing new versions of themselves. Each story is individual, but together they create a broader conversation about the freedom to determine how one's identity might look, move, sound and occupy space.
Crucially, this is not simply a didactic discussion of identity. They Will Be Kings understands the theatrical potential of its subject.

The personal storytelling repeatedly erupts into high-energy performance: ensemble dancing, lip-sync, physical comedy and swaggering drag routines. A group number to NSYNC's"Bye Bye Bye" is infectiously energetic, while Danica Lani, performing as Dario di Bello, delivers one of the evening's most ingenious pieces. Their body is visually divided between masculine and feminine personae, oscillating between the two during a wonderfully cheeky lip-sync to Nelly Furtado's"Promiscuous", featuring Timbaland. The routine transforms gender fluidity from an abstract concept into something immediate, funny and theatrical.

Beks Blake, performing as Jim Junkie, also brings enormous fun and physical energy to proceedings. Their routine to Ginuwine's"Pony" initially plays with the familiar spectacle of masculine strength and bravado, but beneath the muscular posing lies something more meaningful: the building of resilience and strength becomes both physical action and metaphor for emotional change. Yet underneath all the exuberance sit more painful experiences of rejection, marginalisation and the struggle to find acceptance.

Angel Tan's Fine China provides one of the production's most affecting sequences, exploring connections and disconnections with the men in their family. Delivered through monologue and accompanied by evocative live electric violin, it introduces an entirely different emotional register. It is restrained and stirring, allowing vulnerability to sit beside the show's more boisterous celebrations of masculinity.

Chris McAllister, as Chase Cox, brings a different energy again, using humour to recount their experiences of transitioning and the mixture of excitement, uncertainty and fear that accompanies such profound personal change. Their story also finds unexpected tenderness in an account of finding love with another member of the ensemble, ensuring the production's politics remain grounded in individual human experience rather than abstraction.

This combination of testimony and theatricality is ultimately what makes They Will Be Kings work. Its creators describe the production as an attempt to address stereotypes surrounding trans and gender diversity while celebrating a queer community that remains comparatively invisible. But the production rarely feels like a lecture. Its arguments emerge through bodies, stories, dance, jokes, music and the performers' obvious pleasure in occupying the stage.
The staging itself is relatively minimal. There is little reliance on elaborate scenery or props, and some costume transformations happen openly in front of the audience. Yet this simplicity serves the material well. The physical transformation taking place before us becomes part of the storytelling. The narrative does not need theatrical clutter because its strength resides in the four performers and in the seamless movement between their individual and collective experiences.
What emerges across the hour is a portrait of masculinity not as something that belongs exclusively to men, nor as a monolithic set of behaviours that must be replicated, but as something capable of being borrowed, exaggerated, interrogated, dismantled and rebuilt. In the hands of these kings, gender becomes simultaneously serious and ridiculous, political and playful.
Perhaps most importantly, They Will Be Kings refuses to define queer experience solely through struggle. There are certainly stories of marginalisation, rejection and fear here, but the production's governing emotion is joy. This is deliberate.
For a Townsville audience, there is particular value in seeing a production such as this occupy the Civic Theatre stage. The evening creates space for identities and forms of performance that remain far less visible in mainstream culture than their drag-queen counterparts, while inviting everyone in the theatre, irrespective of gender identity or sexuality, to reconsider the assumptions we make about masculinity and femininity.
The response was warm and generous, with applause, cheers and vocal affirmations punctuating the performance before many in the audience rose for a standing ovation at its conclusion. It felt entirely appropriate.
They Will Be Kings may begin by asking why we struggle to name famous drag kings, but by the final curtain it has offered a persuasive response to that invisibility: make space for them, listen to their stories, and let the kings take the stage.
Vibrant, funny and at times deeply moving, this is ultimately a celebration of empowerment, identity and the exhilarating freedom of becoming whoever you choose to be.





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