











Venue: White Bay Power Station (Rozelle NSW), May 1 – 3, 2024
Writer/Performer: Tommy Misa
Performance Guide: Emma Maye Gibson
Images by Joseph Mayers
Theatre review
The show begins with Tommy Misa describing a bittersweet moment, soon after their father’s death. Misa’s one person show Working Class Clown can be considered a commemorative piece, although most of it seems to be autobiographical, or perhaps the lines are intentionally blurred, for when we are told these stories about parent and child. Much to our chagrin, we all turn into our mothers and fathers eventually, but thankfully only to a certain degree.
Misa is proud of the similarities in their personalities, and it is with a deep appreciation of what has been inherited, that they present a showcase emphasising the humour of the dearly departed, for a work about the process of mourning, that always moves us from dark to light. Misa’s charm as performer is undeniable, and in all of these 45 minutes, we feel secure in the palm of their hand.
The writing can however feel unfocussed and somewhat mundane. We want the storytelling to bear a greater poignancy, but it seems to shy away from a more conventional articulation of what is usually a sorrowful process. As director, Emma Maye Gibson smooths out the bumps, and renders a sense of cohesion, so that we are able to invest attentionally, if not emotionally.
A glorious costume by Nicol & Ford takes inspiration from clownery, but combines it with traditions of queerness and of proletarianism, for a marvellous and unexpected denim creation that gives meaningful elevation to this theatrical experience. Sounds by Jonny Seymour provide an etherealness that connects us to the spiritual qualities, of this exploration between the present realm and the thereafter.
The decisiveness of death means that we regard it with a distinct permanence, but it is also incomprehensible to our mortal minds, how our current transience is so minuscule in comparison to that perpetuity. We struggle to perceive a bigger picture that can satisfactorily encompass a reality that understands our living days to be only the tiniest of instances. We always want what we currently are, to be the main thing, and in many cases, the only thing. Magical moments do occur however, when heaven seems to be right here, and we see the eternal taking place in the now. Those are unbearably fleeting, just as it is unbearable to be anything other than human.
