Melanie Martinez turns The O2 into a full-blown theatrical ritual for her HADES: The Sacrifice tour. Even the sceptics don’t stand a chance…

Words by Charly Humphreys, photos by Felix Bartlett (@bartlettfelixhc) | Sep 15, 2026

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A giant pink confetti explosion and the piercing screams of feather-coated fans saw Melanie Martinez kick off her theatrical show at the O2. There’s something slightly cult-like about a Melanie Martinez crowd, although this is arguably the friendliest cult you could stumble upon. She seems to be in on the joke, too, greeting the room early on with a song literally titled ‘IS THIS A CULT?’.

By the time the O2 is full, it’s a sea of bows, lace, elaborate makeup and carefully assembled outfits, with fans who seem to know every word, every gesture and every tiny detail of the world Martinez has built around her music. There are teenagers, groups of friends and, rather sweetly, quite a few mothers and daughters singing along together. The level of devotion is striking. These aren’t people who have simply come to see an artist they like; they’ve bought into the whole universe.

I’m not a Melanie Martinez fan, but just a couple of songs in I found myself thinking… okay, I get it.

The show makes a lot more sense when you see it rather than simply hear about it. This is the HADES: The Sacrifice tour, and Martinez leans almost entirely on her new album, moving from ‘GARBAGE’ through ‘DISNEY PRINCESS’ and ‘MONOPOLY MAN’, yet the crowd greets every song like an old favourite. She’s created something that sits somewhere between a concert, a music video and a piece of theatre, with the O2 becoming the setting for it. A bed, dining table and chairs appear throughout the performance, making the stage feel cinematic and slightly uncanny, while the dancers, costumes and lighting keep building on the strange little world around her. There’s a lot to look at, and it’s clear that this is a show designed for an audience who want to be completely immersed in it.

Martinez is also a seriously impressive performer. Her dancing is precise and expressive, while the supporting dancers match her energy and commitment. At times, the choreography feels like watching one of her music videos come to life. Draped in an ethereal white gown set against the underworld reds and blacks of the staging, she looks summoned rather than booked, and the costumes are equally theatrical, moving between creepy, playful and surreal, while the pyrotechnics provide some genuinely spectacular moments. There’s so much happening that, at points, it feels less like watching a singer perform and more like being dropped into the middle of a very elaborate film.

And perhaps that’s why the fans are so devoted. There’s a particular pleasure in recognising the references, the characters and the visual language of a world you already feel part of. From the outside it can look a little intense, but inside the O2 it mostly feels joyful. Everyone knows the rules of this particular universe, and nobody seems particularly interested in pretending otherwise.

I still wouldn’t call myself a Melanie Martinez fan, but I left understanding the appeal far better than I did when I arrived. She’s given her audience something to belong to, and judging by the noise coming from the O2, they’re very happy to be there.

I may not have joined the cult, but I can certainly see why they’re recruiting.