By Chenoah Eljan
Ro Campbell’s True Crime Walking Tour at Melbourne Fringe offers Festival goers the unique opportunity to get up and move around, laugh a bit and learn a bit, and in the case of this very lucky reviewer – enjoy some unseasonable balmy Melbourne weather. Rather than a comprehensive neighbourhood exploration of St Kilda (one would need far more than an hour and half to cover the crimes that have called that suburb home), Campbell’s show is better described as a stand-up act about history in three parts, delivered to a backdrop of overfilled bins and under a sky filled with stars.
The tour’s structure is simple: three stops, three criminals, three chapters of St Kilda’s notorious underworld. Don’t expect an extensive trek through the neighbourhood—this isn’t a workout disguised as culture. Instead, Campbell uses key locations as launching pads for deeper dives into the lives of three of Melbourne’s most infamous characters.
First up is Squizzy Taylor, the diminutive gangster who loomed large over Melbourne’s criminal landscape in the 1920s. Campbell paints a vivid picture of Taylor’s rise from petty thief to underworld kingpin, highlighting his surprising stature—barely five feet tall—and his outsize personality. Taylor’s involvement in illegal gambling, sly-grog operations, and violent turf wars made him a household name. His eventual demise in a shootout in 1927 was as dramatic as his life, cementing his status as one of Australia’s most legendary criminals.
Next, Campbell introduces Dulcie Markham, known as The Angel of Death because “six to eight” of her boyfriends were murdered. Campbell quips that “you know it’s bad when they have to estimate how many of your boyfriends have been murdered”. This is how Campbell deals with this dark material, weaving in quips and contemporary references to keep his audience engaged. It works, even if many of the current references to the likes of Kyle Sandilands and Robodebt are lost on the handful of tourists in the group.
The tour concludes with Chopper Reid, perhaps the most recognisable name on the roster thanks to the 2000 film which skyrocketed Eric Bana to fame. Campbell brings fresh perspective to this well-worn tale, emphasising Reid’s genius for self-mythology and media manipulation. Reid transformed himself from violent criminal into bestselling author and cultural icon, a modern evolution of the celebrity criminal persona wielded so deftly by Squizzy Taylor, and Ned Kelly before him.
Campbell demonstrates impressive knowledge of Australia’s criminal history, clearly having done extensive research. However, the narrative structure sometimes meanders, jumping between timelines and themes in ways that occasionally leaves the audience struggling to follow. The show’s greatest strength lies in Campbell’s observations about the common threads in the lives of these three notorious criminals, and in nearly all criminals. In the end he ties this together beautifully and entreats his audience to reflect on their own choices in life.
It is a shame the tour is not more grounded in place and does not touch on many of the captivating criminal anecdotes that haunt the same streets the tour passes by. In truth, this is more a standing show than a walking tour, less about architectural history and more about these three specific people who called St Kilda home and their strange place in Melbourne’s collective memory.
