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In a sparse dance studio tucked down the backstreets of Port Melbourne, there is a nervous energy brewing.
Bags are pushed out of the way and bottles of water are dotted around the space as more than 30 men mill about.
Some form little huddles, chatting and laughing. Others find a quiet spot to stretch or listen to music alone.
They are lean, fit-looking guys and are mostly dressed in singlets and other loose activewear: perfect for the high-energy dances they are about to perform.
Each time someone with a clipboard enters the room there's a visible lull in the chatter and eyes dart towards the door to see if now's the time. If they're about to be called in for auditions.
For 70 hopefuls, this is the very first stage of the process that could land them a role in the upcoming Priscilla stage musical.
The show has run for more than a decade and won acclaim around the world. Now it's coming back home and the local hopefuls want to get on board.
Among the throng seeking their spot is Anthony Bartley.
The accomplished dancer flew down from Sydney at 1am, grabbed a few hours' sleep then caught a lift to the studio.
He is auditioning for a role in the male ensemble and although he's been through this process many times, he admits he's still a little bit nervous.
"You don't know what's going to happen when you enter the room," he says.
"It could be a full number, it could be a slow number. They could teach you quickly, they could teach you slowly.
"So right now I'm just preparing myself for anything that could be thrown at me."
Anthony is confident and outgoing, like most in the room seem to be, and you get the impression he'll do well.
After all, he's currently touring with the Bodyguard musical, so he is used to these kind of high-pressure, high-end musicals.
The process for these auditions works like this: groups of men meet in this room. They are then taken into another studio where, together, they are taught a new dance from scratch. They then go into yet another room to perform the dance for the producers and choreographer.
Finally, they are they taken back to the first room to wait before finding out if they have made it through to the singing stage, where the whole process is repeated.
As Anthony is waiting for his group to be called to learn the dance a previous wave files into the studio. They're flushed and covered in sweat after being put through their audition paces.
Surprisingly soon after a person with a clipboard enters. He calls out a handful of names and guides them to a corner of the room.
Everyone pretends they're not listening, but you can catch phrases like, "… did really well, but …" and "… thank you for coming along".
Leigh Jay Booth is among this small group and as he gathers his bag and water bottle, he describes his disappointment at having been cut.
"But that's kind of the way it goes. For the next show you might be completely right," he says.
The whole thing seems so public and ruthless.
"Look it is, but that's part of the business. That's just what it is," Leigh says.
"You work on it. Sometimes it's harder [to deal with] than other times."
As he leaves the room, Anthony's group is called up and taken through to the rehearsal space.
Standing at the front of the room is single instructor who quickly gets to work teaching the dance.
The group is taught just a few moves then told to repeat them. Then a bit more is added and repeated.
This process goes on for an hour until the small studio with low ceiling and halogen lights has been transformed into a sauna. There is condensation on the mirrors and sweat pouring off bodies, but hopefully they all know the full dance now.
To a layperson Anthony seems to have picked it up well.
Again, the whole thing feels so public. How do they cope performing and learning like that in front of everyone else?
"It is kind of an adrenaline rush," says auditionee Mitchell Fistrovic.
"It is exciting, nervous energy. If you do not feel nervous, I think there is something going wrong."
From here, Anthony's group is then taken in to dance in the actual audition.
Choreographer Andrew Hallsworth is young enough to remember what it was like to go through the process, so he does have some sympathy.
"I hated it. It's horrible. You are being judged," he said.
"[But] you have to do that, that's what we're doing.
"We have got to judge them on their dancing, we've got to judge them on their singing and their acting."
For the lucky ones, a successful audition means landing a role in a hit musical and securing a pay cheque for months.
For the unlucky ones, it can be a real struggle. And the group at this audition has plenty of stories to tell.
"What kind of story would you like?" asks auditionee Patrick Cook.
"There's the one where you're like, 'There's $17 in my bank account and I've $3 in silver coins. If I go to the bank I can draw out a $20 if I deposit that money'."
Many of the dancers at the auditions have jobs on the side, like teaching or performing at corporate events — something to tide them over while they wait for the big break.
In this ultra-competitive world it's not uncommon to see familiar faces appear at each of the auditions.
And while there is obvious rivalry, Anthony says there's also something akin to camaraderie.
"You come to these auditions and see the familiar faces time and time again," he says.
"You keep your eye on social media too so when they announce it you can go, 'Ahh, well done! I saw you there and you booked it, so congratulations'."
After learning the dance it is Anthony's turn to formally audition — and it goes well.
Of his group, about a third make it through to the singing stage and Anthony is one of them.
Again the hopefuls are taken into a room and taught a new song from the beginning before then going to formally audition.
But sadly for Anthony, this was where his journey ended.
Having spent hours in the warren of rooms at the Port Melbourne dance headquarters learning a new song and dance, his name ended up on the wrong clipboard.
He won't be alone. Of the hundreds who will audition nationally for Priscilla, only 24 will make it into the cast.
Already Anthony is looking forward, and has his eyes on the upcoming Evita show, which just this week put out a brief calling for talent.
It seems the pace of the industry really is relentless.
"It is cutthroat, but you've got to learn to appreciate when it's your time and when it's another person's time," Anthony says.
"Being happy for everyone else is part of the gig.
"Comparison is the thief of joy so you try not to bring that around with you."
Topics: arts-and-entertainment, opera-and-musical-theatre, australia
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