Venue: Merchants House (Sydney NSW), Dec 3 – 20, 2014
Playwright: Saman Shad
Director: Duncan Maurice
Cast: Adam Connelly, Ali Crew, Amelia Tranter, Aston Campbell, Charlie Upton, Christina Sankari, Danny Gubbay, Eli King, Ezequiel Martinez, Guilia Clemente, Julia Landrey, Latisha Owens, Mark Williamson, Moreblessing Maturure, Paloma Alma, Rowan McDonald, Sage Godrei, Sharon Zeeman, Tess Marshall
Nineteen actors in a beautifully preserved old building present a simple story about politics. We navigate our way through rooms and characters, observing and speaking with these mysterious people, trying to piece together narratives, and to find an understanding of each personality’s agenda, and also what the artists are attempting to convey. The action centres around Lara, who is presented on the ground floor as a student leader of the left, and in a different room upstairs, she is an older politician raising funds to become the head of her right-wing party.
There is a certain amount of chaos from the immersive experiment that keeps us on our toes. It is challenging work that does not let its audience feel comfortable at any point, and director Duncan Maurice is determined for his work to be intriguing and thought-provoking. Placing his actors at such close proximity, we are forced to engage and interpret. Maurice leaves us no room to hide, and we are pressured into taking a stand. The performance feels slightly longer than its eighty minutes. The unusual format leaves us to compose a cohesive tale from many disparate fragments, but unravelling the riddles does not take much time. We are then left to loiter around the hallways waiting for a conclusion of some description to occur, which fortunately, does eventuate, and in quite spectacular style.
Julia Landrey plays X, a member of the student union who proves to be more radical than her peers. X is often positioned alone, so that when we encounter her, she is free to express hidden beliefs that might be too controversial for her comrades. The nature of the work requires a good amount of thick-skinned daring from its cast, and Landrey’s strength ensures that she connects well, even though the role’s presence is an intimidating one. Her impressive improvisational skills allow for brilliant conversations to unfold, and we find ourselves becoming more involved than ever anticipated.
Some of the group is less effective, but they all contribute to the unusual carnival flavour that the production will be remembered for. There are instances where characters seem narrow in scope, which often lead to a shallow sense of plot and oversimplification of ideas. A substantial part of the discussion The Age Of Entitlement aims to inspire, is the tension between the left and right of politics, and the way Australian society shapes its attitudes according to convenient alliances.
The production is well designed. Alex PF Jackson’s work for makeup, hair and costumes especially, are noteworthy. Set and lights are slightly less polished, but spaces are adequately dressed to evoke a sense of fantasy and transportative theatricality.
Political theatre gives voice to causes and groups, and on occasion, it changes minds. This show does not tell us what to think, but it espouses the importance of holding beliefs and standing up for them. Almost contradictory is the way it interrogates our practice of identifying with political sides, but that conflict gives the work a meaningful complexity that feels resonant with our lived experiences. Maybe a few people will begin to think differently of their political attitudes from attending Entitlement, but more likely is its effect on how we think of theatre’s relationship with the public and its modes of expression. There is so much to be explored when artists and audience meet, especially when all the old rules are broken.