Review: Benefactors (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jun 16 – Jul 22, 2023
Playwright: Michael Frayn
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Gareth Davies, Megan Drury, Matt Minto, Emma Palmer
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review

It is the late 1960s and architect David is embarking on a controversial project, of building high-rise housing in South London. Meanwhile his needy neighbour, the newly-divorced Sheila, is employed as David’s secretary, allowing the architect’s wife Jane more time to manage their busy lives. Michael Frayn’s Benefactors is over half a century old, and while its style remains delightfully quirky, the play’s concerns are largely outdated. Gender politics in particular, are presented in ways that, unfortunately, could be described as gruelling and archaic.

Director Mark Kilmurry may not have modernised Benefactors, but the production is given sustained energy to hold our attention. It bears a comedic rhythm that, although not uproarious, is pleasant enough to keep us engaged. Set design by Nick Fry evokes a Brutalism style typical of mid-century England, along with costumes that are commensurately of the period. Matt Cox’s lights help focus our gaze on a busy stage, making the visual experience feel completely organic and effortless.

Actor Gareth Davies brings great charm to the role of David, not quite able to make the passé humour work, but an enchanting presence nonetheless. Jane is played by a spirited Emma Palmer, whose inexhaustible vigour and commitment, convinces us to sit tight to the end. Megan Drury delivers admirable intensity, as the exasperating Sheila, and Matt Minto’s sense of mischief gives surprising dimension, to David’s adversary Colin.

The 1960s were a time of upheaval and accelerated change. Looking back, some of what we were, has now become barely recognisable. It may at times feel as though progress is a destination beyond reach, but incremental improvements can always be identified, even if setbacks and backlashes are resolutely par for the course. Things do get better, and there are legacies everywhere that furnish validation.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: Rabbits On A Red Planet (Flight Path Theatre)

Venue: Flight Path Theatre (Marrickville NSW), Jun 7 – 24, 2023
Book and Lyrics: Irving Gregory, Andy Leonard
Music: Ryley Gillen
Director: Isaac Broadbent
Cast: James Burchett, Sara Camara, Isabelle Kohout, Andy Leonard, Jenna Wooley
Images by Anthony Stone

Theatre review

There are giant mutant rabbits running rampant on Earth, and instead of utilising his resources to fix the problem, billionaire Muskas is heading to colonise Mars, so that he can enjoy being king somewhere else. The book and lyrics of Rabbits on a Red Planet are suitably absurd, but they are also relentlessly confusing, making its efforts to amuse appear chaotic and floundering. Composition and music direction by Ryley Gillen can feel overly derivative, but his tunes are not unenjoyable, often with a jaunty character that helps to speed things along.

The production is directed by Isaac Broadbent, who tries to institute a sense of polish and order, for a work that seems still to be in its nascent stages. Lights by Julian Dunne have a tendency to look perfunctory and repetitive, although attempts to provide some dynamism to the action can be discerned. Costume design by Alli Sebastian Wolf are memorable for flamboyant headdresses denoting alien life, and for the billionaire’s convincing spacesuits, demonstrating good use of materials that give the staging a touch of elevation.

The cast comprises James Burchett, Sara Camara, Isabelle Kohout, Andy Leonard and Jenna Wooley, all of whom unimpeachable with their level of commitment to the cause, each impressive with the quality of singing they deliver. The band too, is professional with their performance of the score, gratifying with the precision they bring to each number.

The rabbits have grown terrifying, and although they do not come into view, we know what has been done to them, given this sad state of affairs. It is without doubt that humans excel at acts of self-destruction. Whether we are any good at redemption, remains to be seen.

www.flightpaththeatre.org

Review: The Poison Of Polygamy (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Jun 8 – Jul 15, 2023
Playwright: Anchuli Felicia King (based on the novel by Wong Shee Ping, translated by Ely Finch)
Director: Courtney Stewart
Cast: Ray Chong Nee, Hsin-Ju Ely, Silvan Rus, Shan-Ree Tan, Merlynn Tong, Kimie Tsukakoshi, Anna Yen, Gareth Yuen
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review

Sleep-Sick appears from the very beginning, as a ghost with his throat brutally slit, indicating that things do not end well. In the 1909 novel The Poison of Polygamy《多妻毒》by Wong Shee Ping 黃樹屏, our narrating protagonist tells his epic story, of journeys between Guangdong in China, and Victoria in Australia, during the goldrush era. We soon discover that it was Sleep-Sick’s opium habit that instigated this riveting chain of events, one that Wong had undoubtedly conceived as a moralistic tale. Involving sins of greed and debauchery, The Poison of Polygamy is typical of traditional Chinese attitudes, in a style that is not unlike many classics charting a man’s downfall, following his failure to abstain from depravity.

In Anchuli Felicia King’s stage adaptation however, the moral centre is shifted from personal foibles, to an emphasis on deficiencies that are cultural and systemic in nature. Sleep-Sick’s narrative now operates as allegory, in a play that demonstrates undeniable interest, in the nature of capitalism and the detrimental effects of colonialism. King’s reshaping of The Poison of Polygamy is thereby turned into something much more pertinent to our times, one that addresses our unmitigating concerns around the idea of a decline in this civilisation. All the amusing salaciousness that feature in the original is however gloriously retained. Money, sex, and murder are key ingredients, in a show that explores our most primal and unchanging desires.

The production satisfies on many levels, under the astute directorship of Courtney Stewart, who utilises fully the text’s numerous dimensions, to deliver a complex and thoroughly engrossing work of theatre. Highly innovative and wonderfully imaginative, Stewart transforms an empty stage into  exciting scenes, offering an experience that pulsates with a continual sense of anticipation as a result of its unpredictability, and disarming with its scintillating sardonic humour.

James Lew’s design is thankfully only elementally evocative of what might be considered a Chinese aesthetic, able to circumvent the cliché of chinoiserie, whilst creating imagery that look commensurate with how we believe this world to have been. Lights by Ben Hughes are rigorously conceived, agile in shifting us between distinct spaces, and powerful at manufacturing atmosphere. Music by Matt Hsu couches the action in an air of authenticity, and along with sound design by Guy Webster, engage our hearing for a consistent feeling of enrichment, subconsciously perhaps, that boosts our enjoyment.

Actor Shan-Ree Tan is an extraordinary leading man, totally captivating with his intricate depictions of and commentary on Sleep-Sick, successfully transforming a character with many flaws into a person we are desperate to know everything about. Kimie Tsukakoshi plays femme fatale Tsiu Hei with delicious aplomb, stunning in her unapologetically grand portrayal of the seductive villain, somehow never descending into caricature, and always able to provide psychological rationale for all the outrageous behaviour.

Sleep-Sick’s long suffering wife Ma is made dignified by Merlynn Tong’s mettle and spirit. Her capacity to represent both the hardest and softest aspects of the old-fashioned Chinese woman, conveys an admirable defiance alongside the inevitable victimisation that defines her narrative. The incredibly versatile Gareth Yuen shines not only as the poet Pan, but also in two smaller roles Ng and Song, unforgettable with his impeccable timing, and a meticulously calibrated physicality that draws us deep into the nuances of everything he wishes to say. It is a fantastic cast of eight, each performer contributing passion and diligence, in what feels like an unprecedented production about Asian-Australian identities.

Through a story about early Chinese settlers, we are invited to contemplate both the contributions of minority communities on this land, as well as our rarely interrogated complicity in colonialism. The dispossession of Indigenous peoples is our greatest sin, one that non-Indigenous people of colour have yet to sufficiently own up to. In The Poison of Polygamy we observe also the disturbing congruence between Asian and white values, especially in terms of how we regard money. We may be able to celebrate what might be thought of as an Asian proclivity for sharing and for society building, but there is no denying our tendencies for exploitation and pillage. Wrongdoers in the play eventually meet their punishment, but the ending is far from happy ever after. There is a lesson to be learned about how we rectify mistakes, not only of our own but also of our forebears, and one suspects a major paradigm shift is in order.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.laboite.com.au

Review: Jellyfish (New Theatre)

Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Jun 6 – Jul 1, 2023
Playwright: Ben Weatherill
Director: Deborah Jones
Cast: Siobhan Lawless, Daniel Mackenzie, Audrey O’Connor, Joseph Tanti
Images by Bob Seary

Theatre review
When we first meet Kelly, she is 27 and never been kissed. Life with her mother Agnes is pleasant enough, both women humorous and partial to a day at the beach in Skegness, on the Lincolnshire Coast in England. When Neil enters the picture however, Agnes’ protective instincts kick into high gear, which is understandable for a caregiver of a daughter with Down syndrome; the idea of a neurotypical stranger dating Kelly, is a genuine cause for concern.

Ben Weatherill’s Jellyfish explores challenges faced by people with disabilities, especially in early adulthood, as they navigate matters of the heart and contemplate starting families. The comedy is delicately written, allowing us an opportunity to delve sensitively, into some serious subjects that are rarely broached in the mainstream.

Directed by Deborah Jones, the show is engrossing, with a generosity that proves touching in key moments. Set design by James Smithers evokes an English shoreline with whimsical charm, and costumes by Louise Fischer help us identify instinctively, the personality types we encounter. Lights and music by Michael Schell offer gentle support, to the meaningful story being told.

In the role of Kelly is Audrey O’Connor, who brings great panache, along with admirable focus, to have us invest heavily into an enlightening narrative of young womanhood. Siobhan Lawless delivers for Agnes a valuable spiritedness, effectively depicting the strength required of single parents everywhere. As Neil, Joseph Tanti is compelling, and a likeable presence who earns our trust. Also delightful is Daniel Mackenzie who performs with an enjoyable idiosyncrasy, the part of Dominic, a thoughtful young man with Asperger’s syndrome.

Jellyfish brings attention to those who are routinely under-represented, and in the process initiates discussions on autonomy. Where there is discrimination, there often is ignorance; a lack of understanding not only generates hate, it may even deprive individuals of rights. Our capacity to dehumanise one another seems to be a perennial trait, but art is a force that prevails, and with it, our hearts learn to be bigger.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: Consent (Seymour Centre)

Venue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), Jun 1 – 24, 2023
Playwright: Nina Raine
Director: Craig Baldwin
Cast: Jessica Bell, Nic English, Sam O’Sullivan, Jennifer Rani, Anna Samson, Anna Skellern, Jeremy Waters
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review

Kitty never forgave her husband Ed’s indiscretions from five years ago, so their marriage remains strained even with the arrival of a new baby. Meanwhile, Ed serves as a barrister prosecuting against rape allegations, in which we see the victim being treated with little compassion or fairness. Nina Raine’s Consent explores bodily transgressions within differing realms, stretching the notion of consent to cover issues from sexual assault to infidelity.

The play’s attempts to draw parallels can feel somewhat tenuous, and uncomfortable in its tendencies to diminish the severity of rape, in favour of a more intensive discussion about adultery. There is a sadistic pleasure in watching a group of affluent lawyers go through emotional turmoil, but it can prove challenging to evoke genuine empathy, for entitled personalities who only have themselves to blame for their strife.

The production is directed by Craig Baldwin, who emphasizes emotional authenticity in portraying the numerous arguments that characterize this play about bickering posh couples. Baldwin demonstrates admirable integrity by resisting excessive humiliation of the characters, although this approach can sometimes miss opportunities for bigger laughs. The staging honours the text’s central ideas about betrayal, but the unsavoury personalities of Consent prevent us from fully engaging in a sufficiently meaningful way.

Design aspects are however accomplished effectively. Soham Apte’s sets and costumes are satisfyingly theatrical, yet bear a sense of accuracy in their depictions of a world inhabited by lawyers and their spouses. Lights by Ryan McDonald provide visual finesse, always aiming for polish without ever being obtrusive. Eliza Jean Scott’s segments of interstitial music are creatively rendered, offering us momentary reprieve from intense altercations, whilst manufacturing an air of refinement appropriate to the piece.

Anna Samson and Nic English play Kitty and Ed respectively, both highly believable in their execution of this domestic drama, with an intricacy in approach that encourages us to bring nuance to our interpretations of the story. Also bringing vim and vigour are Jessica Bell, Sam O’Sullivan, Jennifer Rani, Anna Skellern and Jeremy Waters, who conspire to bring energy to an experience that can very easily become overly cerebral.

It certainly feels awful to be cheated on, but it is audacious to say that it is in some ways similar, to having suffered sexual assault. We all understand human fallibility, yet we continue to hang on to old ways of thinking about monogamy and marriage. On one hand, we understand the nature of lust, including its inevitable superficiality, and on the other, we insist on defining the success of marital unions, on the ability of individuals to prevent themselves from committing these sins that ultimately mean little. Yes, rape and infidelity are forms of betrayal, but they are far from commensurate.

www.seymourcentre.com | www.outhousetheatre.org

Review: Porpoise Pool (25A Belvoir)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Jun 1 – 18, 2023
Playwright: Jojo Zhou
Director: Eve Beck
Cast: Meg Clarke, Jane Mahady, Luke Leong-Tay, Loretta Kung, Carlos Sanson Jr
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review

Lou is a mess, living in a rundown apartment and unable to keep a job. Granted she is only in her very early 20s and has lots of time to figure things out. However as a mother of a small child, the pressure is on for her to get her act together. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Lou has an artificial intelligence assistant device at home, a device referred to as House, who zealously offers assistance with anything Lou might need, including its highly questionable form of psychotherapy.

Jojo Zhou’s Porpoise Pool is an idiosyncratic work, with quirky humour and surrealist elements that cleverly express its central anxieties. The play is consistently fascinating, full of charm and creativity, and it gradually elicits our investment in its imperfect hero, even though the text may require some editing to tighten the journey. Direction by Eve Beck places emphasis on the funny and bizarre dimensions of the show, to deliver something satisfying in its unconventionality.

A set by Soham Apte, along with costumes by Lily Mateljan, address the slightly off-kilter quality of Lou’s world, just theatrical enough to provide a sense of elevation, without ever being too on the nose. Tyler Fitzpatrick’s lights and Clare Hennesy’s sounds are impressive with the level of detail they deliver, to subtly shape our focus and our responses, to a show that switches gear regularly, and elegantly.

Actor Meg Clarke turns Lou’s deficiencies into great entertainment. She is completely believable, with an extraordinary instinct, effortless in her ability to make every line of dialogue and every gesture, seem meaningful and captivating. The supporting cast comprises Jane Mahady, Luke Leong-Tay, Loretta Kung and Carlos Sanson Jr, all of whom embrace the unique tone of Porpoise Pool, for a show that is simultaneously thoughtful and wonderfully weird.

Lou is never more aware of her faults, than when faced with her responsibilities as a parent. There is no question about her lack of readiness for motherhood, but it can certainly be considered true, that no person will ever be sufficiently prepared for that experience. It is fanciful to say that Lou should not have gone through with her unplanned pregnancy, because people every where every day, birth babies in imperfect situations, and will continue to do so. We want perfect parents to have perfect offspring, but the truth is that, we can only ever be human.

https://www.facebook.com/biteprod | www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Lucky Country (Hayes Theatre)

Venue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), May 26 – Jun 17, 2023
Music and Lyrics: Vidya Makan in collaboration with Sonya Suares
Director: Sonya Suares
Cast: Joseph Althouse, Dyagula, Milo Hartill, Jeffrey Liu, Vidya Makan, Billy Mcpherson, Karlis Zaid
Images by Philip Erbacher

Theatre review

It is perhaps the most important function of the theatre, to help us figure out, who we are as a community. A space of congregation where artistic expression is shared, so that issues can be discussed by those local to the area, and where hopefully some form of consensus can be reached. Theatre is at its best, a force for social cohesion. In these times of division, brought on by unprecedented technological disruptions, the myth of monolithic cultures can no longer prevail. Yet we have to find ways to uphold notions of unity, in a new climate determined to acknowledge and appreciate the irrefutable diversity that can no longer be subsumed by outmoded conceptions of a singular identity.

In The Lucky Country, a new musical written by Vidya Makan in collaboration with Sonya Suares, that diversity is displayed extensively on stage, but without a sense of fracture that has come to inform how we understand difference. Makan and Suares’ thorough search and depiction of ways to pay respect, for the many peoples that we are, allows The Lucky Country to offer a showcase of identities that feels accurate and aspirational. Each of its many delightfully melodious songs represents a different part of those on this land; they are distinctly rendered, more like an anthology than one narrative of experience, allowing each of us to have our own say, and demonstrating the ease of co-existence.

The work is incredibly moving with its deep excavations of marginalised lives, but it is also guided by a scintillating humour, for a show that is disarmingly funny from beginning to end. Directed by Suares, along with choreography by Amy Zhang, The Lucky Country is energetic and bustling with activity, holding our attention captive, always keeping us fulfilled and wanting more.

Instead of a set, the empty stage is adorned with a cyclorama, on which Justin Harrison’s witty and sensitive video compositions are projected, adding further emotional dimensions to the production. Lights by Rob Sowinski and costumes by Emily Collett are slightly under explored, but both provide satisfactory levels of embellishment. Heidi Maguire’s orchestrations are entertaining and lively, and along with Michael Tan’s sound design, deliver for the songs a beautiful simplicity that feel rich in resonance.

In spectacular form, a wonderful cast delivers these stories of diminished individuals to glorious light. Joseph Althouse, Dyagula, Milo Hartill, Jeffrey Liu, Vidya Makan, Billy Mcpherson and Karlis Zaid bring technical acuity, as well as exceptional soulfulness, to make The Lucky Country an unforgettable instance of transcendence, filled with love for all who have been welcomed to this country.

Colonialism aims to make so many of us feel small and devalued. It also wishes to drive wedges between us, so that we forget who the real enemies are. Its apparatus is hopelessness, wearing us down until we relent and allow them to exploit and pillage as they wish. Defiance however is a part of the human spirit that remains accessible, even during the hardest of times. In The Lucky Country, we see that the act of defiance can be joyful and unifying. An insistence on new ways to define ourselves beyond old ideas that privilege few, is an urgent need that begins with a defiance that can be summoned, from every dark depth of despair.

www.hayestheatre.com.au

Review: Scenes From A Climate Era (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 27 – Jun 25, 2023
Playwright: David Finnigan
Director: Carissa Licciardello
Cast: Harriet Gordon-Anderson, Abbie-Lee Lewis, Brandon McClelland, Ariadne Sgourgos, Charles Wu
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

Over 80 minutes, a string of familiar scenarios unfold on stage, all dealing with the climate crisis. Some true and some fictional, these more than 50 very short plays, reflect our contemporary attitudes about environmentalism, ranging from cynicism to alarming. David Finnigan’s Scenes from a Climate Era may be urgent in spirit, but is largely banal, in its representation of thoroughly recognisable situations. Nothing is surprising or obscure, so the show tends to underwhelm. Its accuracy in depicting our general nonchalance however, is beyond reproach.

Direction is provided by Carissa Licciardello, who along with set and lighting designer Nick Schlieper, imbue the production with a sense of theatricality at key moments, to help heighten our senses, even if emotions remain detached. Costumes by Ella Butler are versatile but appropriately unassuming, for depictions of these everyday conversations by people from all walks. David Bergman’s music and sound introduce tension when required, and are notably elegant in a show determined to refrain from dramatics, in favour of appealing to our logic.

The ensemble comprises five actors; Harriet Gordon-Anderson, Abbie-Lee Lewis, Brandon McClelland, Ariadne Sgourgos and Charles Wu are well-rehearsed, all demonstrating a good level of creativity that enables them to bring variety and differentiation, between moments in Scene from a Climate Era. Sgourgos and Wu are particularly memorable, for finding opportunities to deliver gentle laughs, as we try to deal with some of the hardest conundrums of our lifetime.

Climate issues seem to have been relegated to a perennial “too hard basket”. There appears to be an insurmountable passivity in how we deal with a crisis, which we can easily imagine to pose no immediate threat. Our lives have become so thoroughly commodified and monetised, we are at a complete loss in dealing with something that refuses to be paid off. In fact, we are discombobulated and unable to fathom anything that wants us to retreat, from capitalistic ways of thinking that have come to fundamentally define modern existence. Parts of Scene from a Climate Era are funny, especially when we watch ourselves march willingly, yet obliviously, towards certain extinction.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Short Blanket (Meraki Arts Bar)

Venue: Meraki Arts Bar (Darlinghurst NSW), May 18 – Jun 3, 2023
Playwright: Matt Bostock
Director:
Tiffany Wong
Cast: Andrea Magpulong, Sayuri Narroway, Dominique Purdue, Monica Russell, Joseph Tanti
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review

Lainey is a playwright who finds herself working for the first time, at one of her city’s bigger theatre companies. Hired for her fresh and edgy take on racial politics, Lainey is suddenly in a position of having to take into consideration, the fragile sensibilities of those she chastises in her work, who have now become her main patrons. Matt Bostock’s Short Blanket deals with the nature of systemic racism, and the inherent resistance within prevailing structures that prevent individuals, from adequately addressing their failings.

It is a passionate work, excellent at conveying contemporary perspectives on matters pertaining to race and power, particularly within artistic fields. Some of Short Blanket can feel too obvious, but its efficacy at unveiling the surreptitious machinations of racism in our systems, is truly laudable. Directed by Tiffany Wong, the show speaks its political concerns with remarkable clarity. The application of a reverse chronology is initially challenging, but the play concludes satisfyingly, proving itself capable of sharing complex ideas, along with making some simpler emotive statements about the state of our world.

A set by Aloma Barnes and costumes by Rachel Pui Hui Yan, are accomplished with a utilitarian approach, reflecting a capacity for resourcefulness, which is always necessary for making theatre in emerging spaces. Lights by Mehran Mortezai too are pragmatically rendered, helping us attune to the atmospheric demands of the text. Prema Yin’s deliberative sound design bears a greater inventiveness, able to provide more than basic requirements, to deliver a sense of drama at key moments. 

Actor Andrea Magpulong is highly convincing as Lainey, the Filipina-Australian writer trying to maintain integrity at a workplace determined to suppress her truth. There is an intensity to Magpulong’s focus on stage, that is crucial to helping us maintain allegiance to the honourable principles of the play. Performances in the production are sincere, but some have a tendency to be overly theatrical, in an intimate space that insists on authenticity.

Change can happen in our big structures, but it is perhaps naïve to expect that their elemental foundations could ever be thoroughly transformed, on their own accord. So much of what we have is predicated on the oppression of certain peoples; they are built for the purpose of elevating some, whilst neglecting the welfare of others. It is hard to persuade enough of those who benefit, to want to make meaningful change to the very systems on which they rely on. It is far more likely that anarchic influences from the outside, will do the work more effectively.

www.slantedtheatre.comwww.meraki.sydney

Review: Pony (Griffin Theatre Company)

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), May 12 – Jun 17, 2023
Writer: Eloise Snape
Director: Anthea Williams
Cast: Briallen Clarke
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

Hazel is not dealing with her pregnancy very well at all. In Eloise Snape’s Pony, a young woman’s immense anxiety manifests as a lot of neurotic humour, in a play that explores the nature of human transformations, and the psychological dread involved, when a person stands at the precipice of unimaginable change. The play is intricately structured, in a non-linear fashion, that elicits substantial intrigue and fascination. Snape’s observations are precise, expressed with an enjoyable idiosyncrasy, even if the central subject of child-bearing never really succeeds at becoming engaging.

Direction by Anthea Williams is full of dynamism, in a staging that turns a one-person show into something surprisingly varied and unpredictable. The irresistible glitz of Isabel Hudson’s set and costume designs imbue an effervescence that keeps the mood uplifted, and our sentiments generous. Verity Hampson’s lights are commensurately joyful, offering many calibrations that help punctuate action and emotion. Similarly, Me-Lee Hay’s sound and music are utilised powerfully to add texture to the piece, so that our attention can remain on the performer, yet be made to travel through a rich assortment of mental states, over the 100-minute duration.

Performer Briallen Clarke is flawless in the production, whether as the painfully vulnerable protagonist Hazel, or when playing the multiple ancillary characters of Pony, all replete with individual colour and peculiarity. Clarke’s work is wonderfully rich, and her ability to endear her audience to the difficult story, is quite a marvel to witness.

Our bodies often go against our will. Being human requires a constant navigation of corporeality, one that seems intent on reminding us our fallibility. In Pony we see ourselves submit to the carnal, recognising that we are at ease when feeding our bodies that which is pleasurable, but when it works against us, is when we experience some of the hardest times. A certain submission has to be deployed, when we concede that in one entity, rarely can two separate desires co-exist; only one will prevail, and the flesh always has the final say.

www.griffintheatre.com.au