Review: Shepherd (Aya Productions)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Feb 19 – Mar 7, 2020
Playwright: Liam Maguire
Director: Liam Maguire
Cast: Mark Paguio, Cecelia Peters, Rose Riley, Adam Sollis, Grace Victoria, Jacob Warner
Images by Matt Predny

Theatre review
Anna is sort of a charismatic cult leader, but she would of course never call herself that. Inside what might be termed a wellness facility, we meet a group of seekers, overwhelmed with a sense of inadequacy, anxiety and narcissism, trying to attain a state of bliss, by surrendering themselves to the teachings of their Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike guru. Liam Maguire’s Shepherd is a self-effacing meditation on the disquiet of modern existence, with characters full of neurosis presenting a sardonic theatre that appeals to our most cynical selves.

Operating as both playwright and director, Maguire’s idiosyncratic humour shines through for a quirky style of show, delivering big laughs as well as ample opportunity for intellectual engagement. His mischievous approach reveals the people we have become, in what is now one of the world’s richest countries; seeing ourselves represented as complete idiots, is actually highly rewarding.

Although not an extravagant production, lights by Martin Kinnane and sound by Sam Maguire, work together to provide a polish that reflects the sophistication underpinning Shepherd. Their efforts combine to shift tensions and tone between each scene, so that we interpret the action from varying heights of comedy and drama, letting us in on the play’s intentions, in subtle subliminal ways.

The cast is extraordinarily funny, including a deadpan Adam Sollis, who as Mark utters just four words, but whose depictions of wilful ignorance proves unforgettable. Anna is played by Grace Victoria, who portrays quiet malice with a powerful sarcasm, and captivating flamboyance. Also very ostentatious is Cecelia Peters, an energetic and meticulous performer, whose exquisite timing and high campery as Elsa is a delicious highlight. Mark Paguio’s overwrought earnestness leaves a remarkable impression, for an irresistibly hilarious take on lost souls and their confused desperation. Rose Riley and Jacob Warner play a quarrelling couple, both actors intense and wonderfully ironic with the parody of romance that they bring to the stage,

Anna exploits these bewildered sheep, gaining money and power from those eager to give up agency and indulge in the comfort of blindly following a false god. The world can make us acutely aware of personal shortcomings, even though these ideas of lack, are rarely genuine. We need to learn to switch perspectives, and see that it is the economy and the ways we run society that are at fault. The structures we subsist under fail to accommodate our nature, and makes us feel as though we are the ones to be blamed for not being able to cope. It then sells us solutions to problems of its own creation, and sets us on a perpetual cycle of frustration and dissatisfaction. When we recognise that the system is not serving our purpose, radical measures must be taken.

www.ayaproductions.com.au

Review: The Rise And Disguise Of Elizabeth R (Sugary Rum Productions)

Venue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), Feb 13 – Mar 1, 2020
Book & Lyrics: Gerry Connolly, Nick Coyle, Gus Murray
Music: Max Lambert
Director: Shaun Rennie
Cast: Gerry Connolly, Rob Mallett, Laura Murphy
Images by Kate Williams

Theatre review
The Queen of England comes to terms with her long career, and the significant diminishment of her empire, in The Rise And Disguise Of Elizabeth R by Gerry Connolly, Nick Coyle and Gus Murray. Connolly himself too, faces a reckoning in the show, as we watch the star confront his achievements as entertainer and impersonator of the Queen, a man of a certain age unable to step out of a majestic shadow, forever eclipsed. These two stories form the basis of a rich tapestry, a multi-disciplinary presentation involving burlesque, cabaret and stand up, intersecting with conventional theatre and Broadway elements, for a witty exploration into the amalgamated phenomena of legacy and ageing.

Directed by Shaun Rennie, the production captivates our senses with its irresistible exuberance, and engages our minds through considered examinations of the Queen as cultural catalyst and icon. Costumes and set design by Jeremy Allen, along with lights by Trent Suidgeest, serve up striking imagery, able to create beauty for every scene, whether fantastical or realistic. Connolly’s performance is unfortunately tentative, but although lacking in confidence, occasional glimpses of genius are revealed in his knack for subtle but acerbic irony. A small but very strong supporting cast keeps us buoyant, with the spirited duo of Rob Mallett and Laura Murphy bringing exceptional proficiency and charisma to the stage. Also noteworthy are Leah Howard’s choreography and Max Lambert’s musical direction, both consistently surprising with their work, and valuable in helping to sustain high energy levels for the 80-minute duration.

No matter what a person does for work, it should always be personally fulfilling, but if an individual’s contributions to community are substantial, life can begin to take on real meaning. Both the show’s main characters are frustrated with the people they have become. They rarely see beyond the repetitive toil that dictates how each day pans out, even though what they do constitutes extensive benefit to societies. We are taught to think about work in selfish ways, always looking at it in personal terms of profit and advantage, ignoring the greater good that can result from a broader comprehension of one’s decisions. The Queen is a lucky woman, not only for the wealth and power bestowed upon her, but also for being affixed to a path that offers her endless opportunities to make the world a better place. The rest of us have destinies that are more pliable, and we need to rise to the challenge of making bolder choices as a result of understanding those freedoms and responsibilities.

www.facebook.com/sugaryrumproductions

Review: Crunch Time (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Feb 14 – Apr 9, 2020
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Diane Craig, Megan Drury, Guy Edmonds, Matt Minto, Emma Palmer, John Wood
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Although a grown man and father of two, Luke is unable to grow out of the shadow of Steve, his own father, whom he perceives to not have been a loving parent. Now that the old man is approaching end of life, things must come to a head or risk being unresolved for many years hereafter.

David Williamson’s Crunch Time is a family drama, but one that struggles to resonate, featuring a collection of unlikable characters in situations that are unconvincing and distant. We recognise the dynamics at play, for we all have experiences relating to problematic kinship, but few of its ingredients feel authentic, and meaningful emotional investment into any part of the story proves elusive.

Mark Kilmurry’s direction capitalises on comical aspects of the writing, always taking care that the humour is conveyed with clarity. Actor Guy Edmonds is effortlessly funny as Luke, and a charming presence, even though a strange casting choice for an entirely charmless role. Daddy Steve is played by an elegant John Wood, whose restrained approach tends to downplay tensions of the piece.

Other parts in Crunch Time are performed well, despite their unfortunate lack of complexity. Matt Minto is appropriately comical as favourite son Jimmy, and Diane Craig brings a degree of self-respect to Helen, the strangely overlooked mother who does little more than orbit around the disputes within her household. Daughters-in-law are played by Megan Drury and Emma Palmer, who retain some integrity for a couple of women burdened by some shockingly unimaginative dialogue.

It is curious that Steve’s family does little to question his decisions pertaining to euthanasia, but Crunch Time is a rare example of how the matter of death, can be dealt with in a less than tragic fashion. Traditionally, we have insisted that people bear with terminal illnesses, no matter how painful and dehumanising. For years, we have debated as a community on how dying can be made dignified, but that journey to legislative change has been at snail pace. It is hard to understand that anyone who has witnessed unimaginable suffering on deathbeds would argue against assisted suicide, but our conservative culture is determined as ever, to keep us in the dark ages.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: War Horse (Sydney Lyric Theatre)

Venue: Sydney Lyric Theatre (Sydney NSW), Feb 15 – Mar 15, 2020
Playwright: Nick Stafford (based on the novel by Michael Morpurgo)
Director: Marianne Elliott, Tom Morris
Images by Brinkhoff Mögenburg, Andrew Tauber

Theatre review
Michael Morpurgo’s War Horse features the life story of a horse named Joey, and his friendship with Albert, the young man with whom he shares an unbreakable bond. Sold off to a cavalry in World War I, Joey spends the wilderness years in hard toil, whilst Albert pines for his mate as he too, struggles in the trenches. Adapted by Nick Stafford, this stage version is cleverly balanced, to deliver both pathos and amusement, allowing a theatrical audience to indulge in an evening of nostalgic escapism.

War Horse is the paragon of immaculate stagecraft. All technical faculties are rendered in extraordinary ways, for a show best described as magical, from start to end. The very prerequisite of bringing to life a lead character that is not human, but a magnificent beast, means that all the tools for make belief, are activated in the most inventive and dynamic ways. The audacious and oversized puppetry involved in telling Joey’s story, is central to the enjoyment of the production, with up to six persons employed to animate one creature, often with multiple horses sharing the stage, for images that will stay with the viewer for years to come.

Although stridently sentimental, the show is not always a moving experience. It is however, endlessly fascinating, with a multitude of mechanical devices employed to tell an emotional story. Some may find themselves swept away with the innocent love portrayed in the piece, but most will be hopelessly captivated by the sheer ambition of the staging. Its scale is overwhelming, and the pleasure of feeling awestruck should never be underestimated.

wwww.warhorseonstage.com.au

Review: No Pay? No Way! (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Feb 10 – Apr 4, 2020
Playwright: Dario Fo (adapted by Marieke Hardy)
Director: Sarah Giles
Cast: Glenn Hazeldine, Rahel Romahn, Helen Thomson, Aaron Tsindos, Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Margherita was only lending Antonia a hand with her groceries, when it was discovered that none of the goods had been paid for, and because the authorities are now on the hunt for all the women who had robbed a supermarket, Margherita inadvertently finds herself pretending to be pregnant, with bags of food hiding under her coat. Dario Fo’s No Pay? No Way! is concerned with the working class in 70’s Italy, and their awakening to the fact that the bourgeoisie has been taking advantage of them for far too long, and that it is finally time to revolt.

The absurdist comedy is adapted by Marieke Hardy, who bridges gaps of time and space, for a magnificent new version that makes the story feel pertinent and surprisingly urgent. In her process of language conversion, Hardy shines a light on 21st century Australian neo-liberalism, to create a rousing work that has us questioning the state of our economy. Director Sarah Giles’ rendering of the play is relentlessly energetic, for scenes of hilarity that tickle us from start to end. Although the laughs are incessant, hearty and thoroughly enjoyable, not one moment goes by that lets us forget the politics being discussed. Giles is as cutting as she is funny, and her production is satisfying beyond the entertainment value that it obviously offers.

A glorious set design by Charles Davis facilitates the raucous activity of characters, whilst providing evocative visual cues that relate to the sociopolitical climate being interrogated. Davis’ costumes too, help to depict a world that is distant yet resonant, allowing us to peer into somewhere far away but achieving an intimate understanding about who these people are. Lights by Paul Jackson are extravagantly designed, to create an inexhaustible sense of dynamism for the staging; his work adds powerful amplification to both comic and dramatic qualities of the play, cleverly creating imagery that keeps us invested, no matter where the story chooses to wander.

Five extraordinary talents take the stage, with Helen Thomson’s performance as Antonia setting the tone, through a sophisticated blend of dazzling slapstick and fierce intelligence. Catherine Văn-Davies adds strong commentary to her interpretation of the slightly ditsy Margherita, bringing meaningful elevation to the role, as she executes some seriously boisterous manoeuvres that has us howling. Playing the husbands are Glenn Hazeldine and Rahel Romahn, who display impressive skill not only in their impeccable timing, but also laudable in terms of the narrative depth they convey for these battlers. Aaron Tsindos is unforgettable in all of his quirky roles, wonderfully precise and confident in the wild artistic choices he invests for each of his distinct and very delightful manifestations.

When all the delicious humour comes to a crashing halt at the show’s conclusion, we face the stark reality of what the farce is all about. Dario Fo’s Marxist influences sing beautifully, and painfully, as we confront the increasingly lamentable problems of our society. Demonstrations and rallies are gradually increasing in potency on Australian streets, but truly radical action still seems unimaginable. We are unable to concede to the desperation that has become permanent in our lives, always choosing to believe that the way things are can be improved, instead of daring to completely do away with the old, so that we can be in search of something new. We fool ourselves into thinking that necessary evils are worth the good that we do possess, never allowing idealism to take us somewhere better. We are given crumbs and are expected to be content with our lot. Unlike Antonia and Margherita, who arrive at the last straw of their exploitation, we carry on hating so much of what surrounds us, believing that this is as good as it gets.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Campaign (Seymour Centre)

Venue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), Feb 11 – 28, 2020
Playwright: Campion Decent
Director: Kim Hardwick
Cast: Tim McGarry, Simon Croker, Mathew Lee, Madeline MacRae, Jane Phegan
Images by Jasmine Simmons

Theatre review
Up until 1997, some of the harshest anti-homosexuality laws in the Western world, were found in our very own Tasmania. In Campion Decent’s The Campaign, we witness the rife homophobia in the Australian state, as well as the hard work by rights groups that fought tooth and nail to bring legislative reform. The story begins in 1988 when community leader Rodney Croome was arrested alongside many others of the Tasmanian Gay and Lesbian Rights Group (previously known as the Tasmanian Gay Law Reform Group), for setting up a stall at Salamanca Market collecting signatures for a petition, towards the decriminalisation of consensual sex between adult males.

A verbatim work featuring first-hand accounts by activists from that critical decade of LGBTQI history, The Campaign feels a thorough and accurate compilation of memories pertaining to that period of incredible dedication by a group of tireless advocates. With focus placed almost entirely on political machinations, the play can suffer from a lack of drama and theatricality, even though director Kim Hardwick’s determination to inject colour and movement into the staging is evident. Her efforts to keep things pacy, helps liven up dialogue that tends to be dry and stoic.

A disarmingly earnest group of five performs a big number of roles, with Mathew Lee memorable for the authentic emotions he brings to the stage, in the role of Croome especially. Jane Phegan too is a genuine and purposeful presence, as is Tim McGarry whose rigour is a joy to watch. Simon Croker and Madeline MacRae are commendable for bringing both gravity and dynamism to their various characters, in an ensemble that proves itself remarkably well rehearsed, and full of magnanimous conviction.

The Campaign is about the heroes of the movement, but occasional glimpses of villains, make us wonder if those vicious sentiments can ever be extinguished. It has taken a very long time to attain legislative protections, but as witnessed in national debates relating to the 2017 same-sex marriage referendum, people’s attitudes can still be extremely malicious and harmful. For many of us, the reasons for that hatred may have to remain a mystery; the incomprehensible need to vilify those whose identities and actions are completely of no consequence to others, is absurd, and unfortunately relentless.

www.whiteboxtheatre.com.au

Review: Wake In Fright (Sydney Opera House)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Feb 11 – 15, 2020
Playwright: Declan Greene with Zahra Newman (adapted from the novel by Kenneth Cook)
Director: Declan Greene
Cast: Zahra Newman
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Included in the price of entry, are a pair of earplugs. There are some loud noises in the production that delicate members of the audience might want to shield themselves from, but symbolically, they are a sarcastic dig at our Australian propensity to shut out any discussion about race that goes too close to the bone. Kenneth Cook’s 1961 novel Wake In Fright is re-framed by director Declan Greene and performer Zahra Newman, so that the classic gothic horror becomes an apparatus that exposes the anxiety of the white man on this colonised land. School teacher John is trapped in a country town, where he encounters a string of dubious characters determined to inflict degradation, using alcohol and other vices, so that he turns into one of them, over the course of a weekend.

More than a tall poppy story, this reiteration of Wake In Fright is about Western masculinity’s relentless need for destruction. The Indigenous have long disappeared from fictitious Bundanyabba, but the carnage continues, now with European settlers exerting their irrepressible barbarism onto themselves. Having once been a scary movie, this bleak tale is again given the genre treatment, with outstanding work by Verity Hampson on light and projections, alongside James Paul’s thrilling sound design and Melbourne duo friendships’ intuitive music, providing eerie and meaningful discombobulation to our experience of the show. Although not frightening in a sensorial manner that films are notoriously capable of, director Greene certainly conveys powerfully, the fearsome quality of this dark tale. Aussie larrikins gone wild are not to be toyed with.

The exceptional Newman is breathtaking in her one-woman show, unforgettable for delivering extraordinary complexity with what could have been a simple story. She has us on the edge of our seats for the show’s entirety, keeping our minds active with the many dimensions and depths that she alchemizes on stage. It is noteworthy that this version of Wake In Fright works particularly well with a woman of colour at its helm. Newman’s gender and skin are constant cues that prevent us from forgetting about the masculinity and whiteness that are central to the catastrophe unfolding.

The earbuds remain a personal choice. Many will choose to ignore the obvious, because much of the power of the status quo relies on its ability to keep us feeling debilitated. It also succeeds at misleading many into insisting that the problems with society are about deficient individuals, and not the overarching systems that govern us. It is no coincidence that the horrors that overwhelm John are imposed by people who fit a particular description. We need to learn to see patterns, and form understandings that will help us in more substantive ways, than to replace bad eggs in structures that will never accommodate good ones. The outback town in Wake In Fright is sick, but we fear the overhaul that is required, and choose instead to let it languish in perpetual revulsion.

www.malthousetheatre.com.au

Review: The Deep Blue Sea (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre at Walsh Bay (Sydney NSW), Feb 4 – Mar 7, 2020
Playwright: Terrence Rattigan
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Fayssal Bazzi, Paul Capsis, Matt Day, Vanessa Downing, Marta Dusseldorp, Charlie Garber, Brandon McClelland, Contessa Treffone
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Hester Collyer is having such a miserable time, that when we first meet her, we catch her in the process of attempting suicide. It is the 50’s in Terrence Rattigan’s The Deep Blue Sea, and therefore not surprising to find a woman unfulfilled and depressed. She may have two men vying for her attention, but no amount of romance and love, can mollify her agony. Although a natural artist, having picked up painting at a tender age, she is steered away from her talents, being a clergyman’s daughter, to focus instead on becoming a wife and mother.

We watch our protagonist invest heavily into her lover Freddie, but the relationship is unrewarding no matter how hard each party tries. Her husband William too, works hard for a reconciliation, but Hester is simply unable to find satisfaction in all his acquiescence. Director Paige Rattray understands that Hester has placed all her eggs in the wrong basket, and as we watch the story unfold, it is Rattray’s understanding of events that truly resonate, even as poor Hester herself remains in the dark about her own situation.

Rattray’s feminist intervention is represented by a clever set design by David Fleischer, which gives us alternate views of the same small apartment containing, and constraining, Hester’s tiny world; we are given two perspectives of the narrative, as though a reminder that there are parallel interpretations taking place, feminist and anti-feminist, at each step of the plot trajectory. Other design elements too are noteworthy, with Nick Schlieper’s lights surreptitious but persuasive at all times, and James Brown’s work on sound, restrained but sublime in its dramatic effect.

Actor Marta Dusseldorp gives a thrilling performance in the lead role, endlessly inventive, and courageous with each of her artistic choices. It is a spellbinding depiction of female suffering, powerful in its authenticity, but more importantly, astute with the meanings that she conveys, almost behind Hester’s back. The show is surprisingly comedic, as a result of its modern sensibility. The cast uses Rattigan’s old-fashioned melodrama to put on a show that oscillates between laughter and melancholy, a subtly camp approach that proves highly entertaining.

Paul Capsis is unforgettable as Miller, an uncompromisingly queer presence that functions as a beacon of wisdom, for Hester and for the audience. Fayssal Bazzi and Matt Day are convincing love interests, both helping to make perfect sense of the conundrum at hand. We see that it matters not, whether they are good or bad men, they simply have no bearing on a grown woman’s happiness. Also memorable is Brandon McClelland, whose straightlaced irony as Phillip Welch proves deeply amusing. Confident and perfectly pitched, McClelland delivers some of the show’s best laughs.

The Deep Blue Sea is an excellent example of how the world can destroy a person, when she plays by prescribed rules. At the end of her story, we wonder if Hester is ever going to discard those external expectations, and find a way to carve out a self-determined existence. Women are broken every day, but one wonders how many are able to resist returning to square one, even in the twenty-first century, at each attempt of revival. Bravery is not often found on the well-trodden path, and glory is reserved only for those who dare.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Feb 6 – Mar 8, 2020
Playwright: Steve Rodgers (based on a novella by Peter Goldsworthy)
Director: Darren Yap
Cast: Valerie Bader, Emma Jackson, Mark Lee, Liam Nunan, Grace Truman, Matthew Whittet
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Linda and Rick are a young couple in love, full of hope for the future, and like many who had come before, they decide to have children. In Peter Goldsworthy’s Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam (adapted for the stage by Steve Rodgers), it is that collision of optimism and the inevitable harshness of real life that comes to the fore, when a happy family of four is met with the curse of a terminal illness.

The play is predictably emotional, with Darren Yap’s direction making no apologies for the extremely sentimental tone that his production takes. Death however, may seem a more vacillating topic than the show might suggest. As we watch the Pollards go through turmoil, finding ways to deal with the impending passing of a beloved, Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam exposes the surprisingly disparate attitudes we may hold, for a completely universal experience. It becomes obvious that because we so rarely talk about death, that we almost never have opportunities to create consensus, so it only makes sense that personal beliefs can vary greatly in relation to the topic.

Characters inhabit a relentlessly dark space, and the trauma being presented feels authentic, even if one does not share in the Pollards’ persuasions about the afterlife. The cast is uniformly strong, impressive with the chemistry they harness as an ensemble, able to give a sense of elevation to some very simple personalities. Actors Liam Nunan and Grace Truman are memorable as the children, passionate and intense with their portrayals of interrupted innocence. Emma Jackson and Matthew Whittet are their parents, both full of conviction, and remarkably elegant in their approaches for this unabashedly stirring work. Valerie Bader and Mark Lee take on a range of senior roles, precise and marvellously deliberate with what they bring to the stage.

Also noteworthy is Emma Vine’s set design, offering considerable versatility and easy scene transitions, whilst remaining pleasing to the eye. Verity Hampson’s lights, along with music and sound by Max Lambert and Sean Peter, ensure that the audience is drawn into the tragedy, through tenacious engagement of our senses.

Death can be thought of as more than a mournful occurrence. In fact, some think of it as a welcome end to suffering. In the lightness of romance, Linda and Rick create new life, unafraid of all the hardship that is sure to come. In sickness, one is made to confront mortality, with fear and sadness invariably becoming part of that process. Along with having to say a long goodbye to loved ones, it is perhaps the uncertainty about what happens thereafter, that causes the greatest despair. We may differ in how we regard the nature of death, but the beauty of life that we have all witnessed, does not have to end when the lights are turned off for the last time.

www.belvoir.com.au | www.riversideparramatta.com.au/NTofP

Review: Angry Fags (New Theatre)

Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Feb 5 – Mar 7, 2020
Playwright: Topher Payne
Director: Mark G Nagle
Cast: Brynn Antony, Phoebe Fuller, Monique Kalmar, Lachie Pringle, Meg Shooter, Emily Weare, Tom Wilson
Images by Chris Lundie

Theatre review
Bennett and Cooper have had enough of homophobia. In Topher Payne’s Angry Fags, the best friends engage in increasingly reckless and violent activity, as a reaction against the gay hate they are experiencing in the “solidly red” American state of Georgia.

Characters in this revenge fantasy take their cues from extremists and terrorists in the news. We see these young men at the end of their tether, resorting to strategies that do nothing more than offer momentary amelioration to their suffering. Their desperate display of might is only capable of providing fodder for the media to sell stories, with no alteration detectable in the prejudice that their transgressions intend to vanquish.

Directed by Mark G Nagle, the comedy of Angry Fags is often effective, even if its irony can seem insufficiently pointed. Chemistry between players is lacking, but individual performances are accomplished. Actors Phoebe Fuller and Lachie Pringle bring the laughs, both memorable with their timing, inventiveness and conviction, proving themselves to be playful personalities able to bring entertainment value to any stage. Central to the story is Bennett, performed by Brynn Antony, a broody presence unable to contribute effervescence to funny portions, but engaging when things take a dark turn.

Hate needs to be met with consequence, but violence is not an instrument that minorities can wield easily. Justice is a frustrating process for those who seek it, but in these discussions that seem only to take place within inherently inequitable structures, speaking the language of power still remains the most potent force of change. It is obvious that extremist methods involving pillage and murder would never garner desirable results for queer movements in the west, but discomfort and inconvenience for the establishment, are not to be shied away from.

www.newtheatre.org.au/