Heartbreak Hotel, at The Show Room, Arts Centre Melbourne - 75 minutes

Breaking up is hard to do.

So it goes, as Karin McCracken and Simon Leary put on a slick show unpacking her characters’ angst at trying to put behind a series of broken relationships.

And, I assure you, she struggles big time to put the past in the past.

It is all about the inability to move on, staying mired in the why, trawling over what could have and should have been.

The vignettes are peppered with McCracken’s covers of popular break-up songs (think the likes of Elvis and Celine Dion).

Her silky vocals (she says she isn’t a trained singer) combine with reverb on the synthesiser.

It is moved from left to right, from high to low, on a pink carpet that serves as the stage.

The synth is something McCracken claims she is still trying to master, playing only six chords. There is comic mastery at play.

In fact, this is a fun and mirth-filled show that resonates with the audience from the get go.

McCracken takes to the stage in a striking lavender pant suit with rhinestones and tassels, teamed with white trainers. She makes quite a first impression.

She starts by asking those assembled whether anyone has been heartbroken, grieving or bereft, saying there is no need to say anything.

Rather, she will interpret the answers by looking into our eyes. Then, she proceeds to scan the room, row by row. Funny stuff.

McCracken relays her Irish mother’s advice about breakups … in an Irish accent.

Enter Simon Leary in jeans, white t-shirt, black runners and matching belt, with sizeable buckle … to play the fall guy.

With drinks in hand, the pair is on a first date in a crowded location (cue background noise of people talking and brushing past them) and it is decidedly awkward.

The conversation is stilted and mundane. An example: what have you been doing today?

Self-employed, she refers in fine detail to her taxes, going through her receipts.

Only six months single, after six years together, she maintains she and her ex are still best friends.

Leary, who assumes the role of a guy who works in treasury, questions whether she is actually ready to get back on the horse, so to speak.

This is where competing theories about dating too soon come to the fore.

Throughout the show, the backdrop to which is three tiers of vibrant electronic signage that introduces different scenes, McCracken references science.

I speak of how her body reacts to break up – the chemicals it produces. Think oxytocin. In one scene, she consults a doctor about her chest pain, before pushing for pills.

There is also repeated reference to a headspace meditation app.

In another sketch, she and Leary are dancing when her ex (who we don't see) walks into the bar.

McCracken talks about the various phases of getting over a relationship, which includes resignation.

She is convinced by her gay best friend to join him on an overseas trip and ends up exploring the Berlin club scene.

Even trying to buy chipotle sauce results in deep seated memories of her ex.

As we near the end, we get to the flashback of a breakup scene over consecutive days between a couple who appeared so good together, until they weren’t.

Finally, we circle around to the guy from treasury taking the role of McCracken’s quasi accountant and saving her money in the process. It is not a date anymore, merely a business transaction.

 Heartbreak Hotel is the work of an award-winning partnership of theatre makers from Aotearoa-New Zealand.

Eleanor Bishop is a director and writer, while Karin McCracken is a writer and performer. Hence their company name EBKM.

They have been working together since 2017 and they produce high quality, socially minded, innovative, contemporary theatre.

The pair develops its work through extensive research and in consultation with audiences, social agencies and academics, while collaborating with designers.

The performances in Heartbreak Hotel are excellent. Both McCracken and Leary are assured, natural and relatable.

They know how to tickle the funny bone. Laughter abounds.

A lot is crammed into the 75-minute running time of the show.

Perhaps a tidy 60 minutes wouldn’t have gone astray, but there is no doubting its impact.

My conclusion – relationships are tough, some run their course sooner than others, but dealing with the fallout is never a walk in the park.

Cloaking the fragility and vulnerability in humour is genius.

Heartbreak Hotel is definitely worth a watch.

It is playing at The Show Room, Arts Centre Melbourne until 22nd June, as part of RISING.

For more information and to buy tickets, go to https://2025.rising.melbourne/program/heartbreak-hotel