This show is a wild ride. A British man with amnesia in Australian outback. He searches for his identity while dodging danger. Characters pop up, each with their own secrets. Action, suspense and twists galore. You will be glued to your seat. Don’t miss it!

Meet the characters from The Tourist

The Man

Okay, so The Man is basically the walking mystery that won’t stop stealing scenes — amnesiac, evasive, and annoyingly magnetic. He looks calm one second and like a ticking grenade the next, but also has these quiet, oddly tender flashes where you think, “oh, okay, he’s human?” He’s definitely resourceful (like, MacGyver-level improviser) but also forgets where he parked his car five minutes after starting it, which is both funny and kind of terrifying. He carries this weird luck-meets-stubbornness vibe and probably keeps a dented watch he never winds; ask me why, no idea, it just feels right.

Helen

Helen is the cop you want on your side — sharp, relentless, and a little too straight-faced for her own good, but secretly very compassionate (and yes, she will scold you and then bring you tea). She’s obsessed with facts and procedure but also has this tiny soft spot that makes her bend rules when it actually matters, which is kind of her whole tragic charisma. She hides a messy sense of humor and a drawer full of snack bars she never eats (stress habit?), and sometimes she’ll say one-line truths that cut like a razor. She’s practical, tough, and quietly heroic, though I wouldn’t be shocked if she collects postcards and never sends them.

Luci

Luci is the combustible, sharp-tongued wildcard — she’ll tell you exactly what you did wrong and then save your life without blinking, and you’ll be grateful and annoyed simultaneously. She’s clever and unpredictable, like someone who knows three ways out of a burning building and also how to make a mean breakfast at 3 a.m.; she’s all hands-on energy and little contradictions. Sometimes she sounds like she doesn’t care but she definitely cares — intensely, loudly, and with a bad playlist. Oh, and she might be a little superstitious? Or maybe that’s just me projecting; either way she’s unforgettable.

Billy

Billy looks like the kind of bloke who swears only once and then apologizes, and you immediately forgive him because he’s weirdly lovable. He’s a local fixture — loud, a little rough around the edges, loyal to a fault, and prone to telling stories that may be slightly exaggerated (or completely made up, who even knows). He has this unexpected softness, especially with people he trusts, and also collects things like novelty teaspoons or weird postcards which he insists are “for research.” He’s the kind of guy who’ll throw a punch and then cry about the wallpaper; it’s confusing but endearing.

Sue

Sue is the quietly sharp matriarchal type — warm, nosy in the best possible way, and with an uncanny ability to read a room (or lie through her teeth if it helps). She runs things behind the scenes, keeps everyone fed, and knows more about your past than you do, which is both a comfort and a threat depending on the day. She’s generous but with rules; she’ll give you soup and then make you apologize for stepping on her floorboard. Honestly, she’s equal parts cozy kitchen and small-town iron fist, and yes she probably owns at least three ceramic ducks.

Ralph

Ralph is the quiet storm — he doesn’t say much but when he does it usually matters, and he has this unsettling mix of manners and menace (like, polite menace?). He’s efficient and maybe a little terrifying, the kind of guy who handles problems without drama but with a weird sense of ritual — pays his debts and expects the same, always. Yet somehow he also bakes on weekends? Not sure where that came from but picture a steel-toed boot next to a tray of muffins and you’ll get the vibe. He’s loyal to some code, darkly pragmatic, and secretly a little sentimental about small, dumb things.

Lachlan

Lachlan is charming in a dangerously slippery way — smooth talker, low-key manipulator, the smile that hides too much. He’s ambitious, clever, always got a plan B and sometimes C through Z, but also weirdly insecure about tiny stuff like his handwriting or his coffee order. He can be helpful and then totally self-serving in the same breath, which makes him fascinating and exhausting to watch. There’s a theatrical streak to him — loves being the center of attention but will ghost you if it gets inconvenient; classic drama.

Kostas

Kostas is the solid, old-school presence — stoic, proud, a bit intimidating but with a surprisingly strict personal code (and soft spot for family and bad pastries). He looks like trouble but behaves like a rock: dependable, blunt, and occasionally sentimental in a way that catches you off guard. He’s also a touch old-fashioned, probably owns more leather jackets than is reasonable, and will argue passionately about something tiny like olives or soccer. Practical to the core, and somehow both the most predictable and the most mysterious person in the room.