Though I initially struggled with some of its artistic choices, the new live show from the legendary film composer ultimately lived up to its ambitious title and left me on a euphoric high once again.
I had the pleasure of seeing Hans Zimmer live back in 2017 and 2019, and having missed out on the 2025 visit I was super-pumped to experience his epic compositions in concert once again. I deliberately avoided reading reviews, looking up setlists or watching videos to save myself for the surprises. What on earth could elevate an already thrilling show to this promised next level?
I arrived at Rod Laver Arena early enough to get a second dinner of potato fries and ice cream, check out the merchandise, and enjoy the atmosphere of hype and mounting anticipation from my aisle seat in the first tier. I realised I dodged a bullet: for whatever reason there was a thick cable descending from the ceiling to the arena floor that just grazed the stage for me. If I sat any further to the right, that cable would probably feel like a black stripe going through the centre of your TV screen at home. Since the show ran a bit late, the crowd amused itself with what I could only describe as a mobile phone shine-off between the two opposing sides of the arena, something I’ve never seen at a concert before.
The show kicked off with the sounds of rain and thunder morphing into The Dark Knight suite. From the start, it was clear that I was in for a different experience, with the traditional classical orchestra ditched in favour of a massive band and a gargantuan synthesizer that made me think of retro spaceships and old-school computers I saw at my parents’ work as a kid. The emphasis on electronica was hardly surprising considering how enmeshed it is in Zimmer’s later-day scores, but this new techno take on Batman simply couldn’t hold a candle to the past shows and the orchestra was sorely missed. The weak and disappointing opener dampened things considerably, and put me in a mood where I felt like the show had to win me back.
Another major difference was the upgrade in visuals, far more elaborate and flashy than what I’ve seen in the past. Again, this choice left me feeling conflicted for a while. I love eye candy as much as anyone, but I had enjoyed the more modest approach of the previous shows, where visuals were firmly in the background and the players were the undisputed stars. To be fair, Zimmer’s band of enormously talented musicians still had plenty of chances to shine, but at times they looked somewhat lost among the busy stage design and all the glitz and flash.
There was still plenty to enjoy in the first half. The strange and alien Dune score was one of my most-anticipated moments, and it certainly didn’t disappoint live, with the powerful rendition of Paul’s Dream and the original voice of Dune Loire Cotler belting out that iconic tribal-inspired chant. Guthrie Govan, the silver-haired guitar god and one of Zimmer’s regulars, absolutely killed it with a blistering guitar solo during Man of Steel. To Every Captive Soul from Hannibal was a rare quiet moment, with elegant cello work from Mariko Muranaka. The zany, lively and chaotic Sherlock theme, which only got a brief nod in the past, was now extended to a full number, a very pleasant surprise. It’s such a fun, whimsical piece.
As always, Hans Zimmer himself was one of the highlights: personable, bubbly, endearingly awkward and self-deprecating (and wearing very European pants the colour of egg yolk… I approve!). I just loved to see how much he loves being onstage with his musical collective from all corners of the world, including three members from Melbourne. You always take it with a grain of salt when a performer tells you that your home city is their favourite, but Zimmer’s praise of Melbourne and its ability to nurture musicians was something you’d want to believe in.
The majestic and elegiac Gladiator score never fails to move me in any interpretation, and it was an emotional closer for the first half, with homegrown guest star Lisa Gerrard once again lending her vocals and feminine energy to the ethereal Now We Are Free. Time and age may have left their mark on her voice, which is sadly not the powerhouse it used to be, but it was still incredibly special to have her onstage and see the warm friendship between the two collaborators that lives on to this day.
After the interval, I returned to the arena feeling like I was finally ready to settle into the show and enjoy it on its own terms. The second half featured more of Dune goodness with selections from Part 2, including its gorgeous love theme. I mostly associate Pearl Harbour with its merciless send-up in Team America: World Police, but then plenty of terrible movies have excellent scores, including Michael Bay’s dud of a historical epic. And I was absolutely stoked with the inclusion of Zimmer’s recent banger theme for F1. It’s so upbeat, inspiring and energising it makes me want to run a marathon; I had to settle for dancing in my seat the best I could.
The back end of the concert was a hit after hit. The spine-tingling Interstellar suite featured what was probably the best marriage of music and visuals, including an aerial gymnast in a stunning disco ball mirror suit. The acrobatics could have been distracting, but instead they added to the otherworldly, celestial vibe. The opening cry of The Lion King instantly tickled that nostalgic 90s bone. Along with wonderful singer Lebo M, the performance featured a joyful Kenyan choir in colourful costumes, and eye-popping visuals with African animals running in a circle. I won’t lie, I got a tad teary as the score moved from playful to tragic to life-affirming and triumphant.
After the audience agreed with the proposal that musicians leaving the stage before the encore would be a waste of everyone’s time, the band launched into a rock-inspired take on Pirates of the Caribbean. Before too long, it switched to the more familiar, beloved theme, with Mariko Muranaka a swaggering badass on the electric cello. But of course, there’s only one way a Hans Zimmer show could end: with the film maestro behind the piano and those iconic chords from Inception ringing in the respectful silence of the arena. Time is one of the rare music pieces that bring me closest to feeling spiritual.
On the train ride home, I ran into a work colleague and her partner, and we all gushed about the concert and what an amazing experience it was. It would have been mind-blowing for a first-timer; I might have had a few more quibbles, but the show’s highs took it to the next level, without a doubt.
