Live Review: 30 Seconds To Mars, White Lies

Giant shadows crept across the walls of Challenge Stadium announcing the entrance of London post-punk outfit White Lies. Lead singer Harry McVeigh moved through his expansive vocal register with fluidity while bassist Charles Cave's lightening quick hands carried the set with pulsating rhythms. The English gentlemen repeatedly thanked 30 Seconds To Mars for their first opportunity to play for Perth audiences before rounding out their performance with aptly named Bigger Than Us and introducing the stadium-rock powerhouse that is 30 Seconds To Mars.

Hot off the back of an Oscar win, Jared Leto was evidently still in the mood for drama, emerging to the cinematic instrumentation of Birth wearing a hooded coat and wielding a baseball bat. As the charismatic frontman instructed the crowd to jump, the band erupted into Night Of The Hunter and whipped the small but enthusiastic crowd into a frenzy. Leto commandeered the stage looking like the lovechild of Yoko-era John Lennon and Ziggy Stardust, leaving the rest of the band drowning beneath his massive presence. Alongside the band, the audience, staff and security were entirely at his mercy as he instructed everyone to jump, clap, chant, climb on shoulders, jump on stage and wave their 'cell' phones about.

This Is War marked the beginning of what could have been renamed The Jared Leto Show as he led the crowd in chanting “fight” and suggestively dropped part of his coat for the swooning masses. Mid-song, giant coloured balloons filled the stadium, providing an odd but interesting juxtaposition. An Australian flag emerged for Do Or Die for no apparent reason and mobile phones lit up the stadium like stars for City Of Angels. End Of All Days was dedicated to “all the true believers”, which apparently confused some concert-goes as eyes darted around. Was that a religious reference? Or something to do with the suspicious Illuminati-esque backdrop? Then again, Leto has previously likened his fandom to a religious experience and he was resembling rock-Jesus.

About midway through, the stage cleared and the spotlight (physical, not metaphorical) was on Leto for acoustic renditions of The Kill and Hurricane. Leto enthusiastically began dragging people out of the audience, demanding the craziest Australians get up on stage. It was awkward to say the least. Perhaps he's used to American frat girls throwing their underwear at him or maybe he didn't know it was a school night, but in a set dominated by Leto's clear instructions, stage-dwellers left to their own devices were at a loss and were eventually dragged backstage; presumably for dessert.

The excessive use of 'Woah's, 'Oh's and call-and-response could have made things monotonous but Leto lifted and carried the show to the playful nexus of music, theatre, improv and comedy. There were however questions left unanswered. What was the baseball bat for? Who are the believers? Why the Australian Flag? What were stage-dwellers to do? How many fangirls were recruited for the afterparty? And did you check their ID?