Fringe review: Meteors

Traversing a shimmering patchwork of memories and moments, this autobiographical show about grief pairs real vulnerability with solid theatrical craft. ★★★★

Feb 21, 2026, updated Feb 21, 2026
Photo: Kyahm Ross / Supplied
Photo: Kyahm Ross / Supplied

Melissa Pullinger’s mum died when Melissa was 20. Seven years later, Melissa is telling the story of that loss and the grief that accompanied it in Meteors.

Deceptively simple, the show is a highly successful deployment of the classic Fringe theatre format. Melissa stands on stage in a black box theatre with only simple lighting, a wooden chair, a soundscape, and (briefly) some solar eclipse glasses for company. She speaks directly to the audience, reliant on her storytelling ability to get us all through the next hour.

Fortunately, the show’s script has been strategically and successfully sewn together. Slipping across times and places, Melissa ­– who is both the writer of the show as well as its performer – creates an emotional landscape rather than a chronological one. This non-linear approach reflects the fragmented experience of grief while still considering the audience’s need for steady navigation. At the centre of the script is a sound structure that moves through Melissa’s journey of self-knowledge while unravelling details of her mum’s illness, death, and the funeral. Throughout, humour is deployed sparingly but effectively. Peaks in emotional tension are broken by occasional laughs, with the most memorable comedic scene detailing the wave of condolence lasagnes delivered to the Pullinger home in the wake of Melissa’s mum’s death.

Writing memoir is difficult. It is emotionally draining, challenging to step outside your own experience to understand what an audience will feel, and also ethically fraught. This is Melissa’s story and it is rightfully focussed on her experience, but that focus is perhaps a little too tight. Melissa’s mum, brother, and father are never filled out as characters in the work. Most likely, this is out of respect for their ownership of their own stories, but it does leave Meteors constricted. Negotiating the boundaries of communal memory and adding a few more glimpses, in particular, of Melissa’s mum’s character beyond her role as a mother could open the work up to an entirely new level of relatability.

As it stands, the script balances on our relationship with Melissa, which is mediated by her performance and Connor Reidy’s direction. In the most important moments, Melissa shines – her vulnerability is vast and genuine, but she never forgets to invite the audience inside it with her. It is the less important in-betweens that pose a greater problem – some of the exposition feels over-delivered, flattening the dynamics of the performance and leaving less room for the substance of the show to stand out.

These, though, are relatively small issues. This is a genuine and genuinely good show offering generous insight into the experience of grieving while becoming an adult. Among the more than a thousand works on offer in the Fringe, Meteors is likely a standout – both entertaining and emotional, offering a chance for real connection.

Meteors is playing at The Breakout at The Mill February 19 – March 7.

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