The many acts of
MARNEY MCQUEEN

A performer, comedian, celebrant – and now a publican, the Trinity alum has built a career by embracing character, chaos and comedy, sometimes all at once.

As a child, Marney McQueen (TC 1998) was the one putting on shows in the living room, roping her family into watching impromptu skits and impersonations. At school, she mimicked teachers so accurately that they started bringing colleagues in to watch. That early joy of making people laugh became her creative compass.

She arrived at the University of Melbourne to study Arts and Commerce – ‘a safe option,’ she says. But it wasn’t long before she threw herself into the College’s theatre scene, joining the Trinity College Dramatic Society and Musical Theatre Society. Performing ignited her soul.

In her first year, she played the title role in Alcestis, followed by parts in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and Little Shop of Horrors. In her second year, she took on the role of producer for West Side Story, sharpening her commercial instincts behind the scenes.

‘Trinity was foundational,’ Marney says, ‘not just for the opportunities to perform, but for the amazing people I met there.’ She remembers the infectious energy of director Brian Hogan, brought in by the Dramatic Society to lead the annual show. ‘He was a theatrical animal,’ she recalls. ‘He made everything feel exciting. The students took charge of sets, lighting and costumes. Everyone was learning their crafts and understanding the work of putting on a show.’

'There’s always something... A new role. A new show. A new character just waiting to be born.'

Marney McQueen

After university, Marney landed a place at the National Institute of Dramatic Art (NIDA) in Sydney. It was there that she created her breakout character, Rosa Waxoffski, ‘bikini waxer to the stars’, a bold and hilarious figure who would go on to tour major comedy festivals around the world.

At her debut performance of Rosa, Barry Humphries was in the audience. She asked him if she could observe him perform in New York. ‘I saw his show eight times,’ she says. ‘That experience confirmed everything for me. I knew this was what I wanted to do.’

Since then, Marney's career has included roles in television, commercials and stage productions, including Hairspray and Priscilla Queen of the Desert, in which she played Marion, the hard-drinking pub owner.

‘Opening night was a comedy of errors,’ she remembers. ‘There were technical issues, which meant the bus wouldn’t work.’ But the audience didn’t seem to mind. ‘They loved every second of it. The joy in the room was unforgettable.’

In a case of life imitating art, Marney went on to buy her own pub on the NSW Central Coast. Alongside her husband Frank, she runs the Royal Hotel Wyong, where she performs weekly cabaret shows in the back bar.

‘I saw an opportunity to bring something fun to the town – somewhere people could gather on a Saturday night to laugh, sing and come together,’ she says. The cabaret show has become a local institution, selling out weekly and uniting the community around live performance.

During the COVID years, raising young children and living in a regional town, Marney had wondered whether her stage career might be behind her, a prospect she found devastating. So, when she was cast as Celine Dion in Titanique, a musical parody of the Oscar-winning film, the joy of being on stage performing eight shows a week was immense.

‘It was the role of a lifetime, and the audiences were so interactive,’ Marney says. ‘People came back to see it again and again. It is that collective experience of laughing together that we all crave.’ Marney’s work is driven by a keen sense of character – often bold, satirical and larger-than-life. In her one-woman shows, she has explored everything from politics to gender identity using comedy as a safe space to hold a mirror to society.

‘You can make outrageous statements in a space that’s unthreatening because people are laughing. And, of course, it’s not me saying it – it’s the character!’ she laughs. ‘Comedy gives you permission to go places you otherwise couldn’t, showing us parts of ourselves we like to keep hidden. It’s disarming.’

So, what is next for Marney? ‘There’s always something,’ she says. ‘A new role. A new show. A new character just waiting to be born.’ But what if she could offer her younger self one piece of career advice? ‘Be completely dedicated. Believe in your own power and know that some things only come with time and life experience.’

And if you can make people laugh while you are at it – even better.