Review: Sunday (Sydney Theatre Company/Melbourne Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Nov 28 – Dec 7, 2024
Playwright: Anthony Weigh
Director: Sarah Goodes
Cast: Matt Day, Jude Hyland, Ratidzo Mambo, James O’Connell, Nikki Shiels
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
It was the 1930s and Sunday Reed wore trousers. Obviously unafraid of controversy, she had courted a life of affluent bohemia, at a time when being a patron of the arts did not preclude one from more unconventional or perhaps, scandalous pursuits. No doubt her ménage à trois with husband John Reed and now legendary painter Sidney Nolan would have raised more than a few eyebrows, the Reeds were nonetheless celebrated for supporting the careers of prominent artists through their establishment of the Heide Circle.

Anthony Weigh’s Sunday offers a glimpse into the heady days of our heroine’s life as philanthropist and muse, paying particular attention to the years during which Nolan had played a significant part. Weigh’s writing is passionate and incisive, for a sprawling tale spanning more than two decades. Sections venture into the granularity of art philosophy that may not appeal to wider audiences, but Sunday‘s explorations of an unorthodox romance is certainly fascinating.

Directed by Sarah Goodes, the staging is a spirited showcase of a woman’s experience of privilege and autonomy, at a time when gender roles remained strictly prescribed. It is in many ways an inspiring portrait, not only of the daring choices made by a woman, but also of the tacit acceptance of her radical approach to life, by the men around her. Sunday Reed is presented as brilliant, but also flawed, which somewhat perversely makes her story all the more intriguing.

Nikki Shiels is our marvellous leading lady, authoritative and robust in her depictions of a complex personality, rigorously persuasive with all that she manifests. Highly dramatic but also irreproachably detailed, it is a performance that is as provocative as it is captivating, demanding both our focus and intellect. Matt Day brings relentless charm to the part of John Reed, memorable for a lightness of touch that conveys a great deal of sophistication, in a play that communicates with gratifying maturity. In the role of Sidney Nolan is James O’Connell, whose journey from naivety to self-assuredness is charted with evident diligence alongside an admirable grace. Jude Hyland and Ratidzo Mambo as Sweeney Reed and Joy Hester respectively, surprise with the gravity they introduce, notwithstanding the brevity of their appearances.

Set design by Anna Cordingley is appropriately painterly with the textures it incorporates, and paired with lights by Paul Jackson, there is an unmistakeable delicacy to the beauty being harnessed, for a tale that often talks about aesthetics as a central value defining our ways of being. Impressively detailed costumes by Harriet Oxley transports us in time and in sensibility, to invite contemplation on our recent history, especially in terms of class and gender. Sublime work by composer Jethro Woodward includes unforgettable moments in the most exquisite of jazz forms, as well as some truly entrancing sound effects that get us completely invested in all the delicious tumult of Sunday.

The wealthy will always have inordinate influence on the architecture of our collective lives. The Reeds were a dominant force in our artistic landscape in a modern and colonised Australia, not only making decisions about who to foreground, but also on what the agenda looks like. Along with the ability to circumvent societal norms, it is that insidious impact on others, that defines power. One imagines that rich white women can do anything, and Sunday Reed certainly dared to reach for the stars.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Cost Of Living (Sydney Theatre Company/Queensland Theatre)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), 18 Jul – 18 Aug, 2024
Playwright: Martyna Majok
Director: Dan Daw, Priscilla Jackman
Cast: Dan Daw, Kate Hood, Zoe de Plevitz, Philip Quast
Images by Morgan Roberts

Theatre review
Ani and John have physical disabilities that require assistance. Edie and Jess are their respective carers, who grow to become emotionally reliant on their clients. Martyna Majok’s Cost of Living takes a look at the dependency we have for one another, as humans who fundamentally need other humans. The characters we encounter are indubitably fascinating, in this play about the vulnerabilities we share, although its plot can feel somewhat lacking.

Direction by Dan Daw and Priscilla Jackman create a compelling intimacy for a show comprised of two-hander scenes. It may not reach a point of emotional intensity that is sufficiently satisfying, but we find ourselves kept intellectually engaged throughout the piece. Production design by Michael Scott-Mitchell is perhaps too sparse, in a staging that could benefit from a greater sense of visual allure. Lights by John Rayment help to facilitate storytelling, as do sounds by Guy Webster, both elements offering appropriate enhancements to the drama that unfolds.

Daw performs one of the roles, and along with Kate Hood, Zoe de Plevitz and Philip Quast, form a cast that delivers something that is truly thought-provoking. There is a distinct passion in their advocacy for people living with disabilities, and they certainly inspire us to consider better integrating all our diverse capacities into what could be considered normative. Not all of us understands what it is to be disabled, but most will know the experience of being excluded. Unfortunately that sensation of ostracism is often forgotten, when we negotiate daily life, and we leave compassion behind, in trying to keep up with standards that serve only a minuscule minority.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.queenslandtheatre.com.au

Review: Dracula (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Jul 2 – Aug 4, 2024
Writer: Bram Stoker (adapted by Kip Williams)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Zahra Newman
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
In Bram Stoker’s Dracula, mortality is under constant threat, by its central immortal figure. Fear is represented entirely by deathlessness, the very phenomenon we desire the most. In Kip Williams’ single-performer stage adaptation, we see that all this struggle and terror, exists completely within one’s mind. In a story about petrifying phantoms and alarming apparitions, otherness is presented as being utterly heinous, yet only located on the inside.

It may be the old adage, “the only thing to fear is fear itself”, that we so clearly see in actor Zahra Newman’s sublimely rhapsodic performance, as her body and mind masterfully transform before our eyes, into 23 different characters from Stoker’s legendary work. We observe the astonishing courage of a person undertaking a manifestly herculean task, making a persuasive argument in this tour de force about horror and paranoia, demonstrating that what may be only a figment of a person’s imagination, can lead to absolutely devastating consequences.

Combining stage and screen, Williams’ cine-theatre approach deals perfectly with competing concepts of reality and delusion. On film, all manner of fantastical imagery can be shown, and the audience easily invests in its fiction, no matter how extravagant. By contrast, the materiality of the live format is used simultaneously to expose the truth, and we find ourselves in a constant state of discombobulation, experiencing both aspects, virtually at the same time. Williams’ ability to deliver that delightfully bizarre sensation, of being immersed in circumstances that are at once congruent and divergent, is theatrical magic at its most sensational. In Dracula, we learn that art and technology can coalesce to deliver a psychological effect that could perhaps neve be encountered otherwise, and reveal something quite fundamental about how we are.

The immense video work is designed by Craig Wilkinson, whose inventiveness leaves us breathless time and again. Marg Howell’s costumes and sets are consistently surprising, and marvellous in the sense of cohesiveness they manufacture for a show that dares to be thoroughly unhinged. Lights by Nick Schlieper give us seamless and balanced visuals, every which way we choose to position our eyes. Music by Clemence Williams and sounds by Jessica Dunn, are relentlessly gripping, and memorable for being unabashedly dramatic, in their delicious interpretations of Stoker and his essential flamboyance.

The human imagination is unequivocally powerful. It can twist material realities into infinite different meanings, that in turn spur us onto wildly varying trajectories. Our mind has great capacities, yet we can never claim to have real control over it. Count Dracula may or may not be who they think he is, but there is certainly no doubting their dismal failure at ever hoping to resist his allure.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: American Signs (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 2 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Jun 15 – Jul 14, 2024
Playwright: Anchuli Felicia King
Director: Kenneth Moraleda
Cast: Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
The unnamed protagonist is a twenty-something, third-generation Vietnamese-American who has completed her degree at Stanford, and is trying to establish a career as a management consultant. She has made her way into a top firm, where competition is strong, and where rules of engagement are soul-destroying. As a junior employee, she is being conditioned to tolerate exploitation in many flavours, and because she believes herself lucky to be there, she takes it all lying down.

Anchuli Felicia King’s sensational American Signs tells a rich story about late-stage capitalism, with particular focus on refugee diasporas and their obligatory allegiance to Western values. The Consultant’s acceptance of dubious conditions and her capitulation to utterly unethical abuses of power, are cuttingly illustrated by King with unequivocal persuasiveness. American Signs also functions as a sort of meditation on the notion of destiny for immigrants, who exist in an inevitable commitment to a hegemony that represents the antithesis of what they flee.

Poignant direction by Kenneth Moraleda fuses intellect with emotion, so that we may understand thoroughly the plight of the central character, and by inference the audience’s own circumstances. For a narrative dealing with impulses and compulsions that often seem to be unconscious or unexamined, it is important that we are encouraged to feel as much as we contemplate, the several resonant morals of the story. Moraleda’s work certainly has us engaging both heart and mind.

It is however the actor Catherine Văn-Davies who brings marvellous elucidation to the complex dimensions of American Signs, and all that it is capable of saying. Whether tragic, vulnerable, powerful or menacing, Văn-Davies is spectacularly convincing with every human state she inhabits. The play’s meaningful observations about systemic failures in our economies, societies and politics, are given further significance by being turned into vigorous demands for cultural transformation, by Văn-Davies’ deeply affecting expressions of rightful indignation.

Production design by James Lew puts on stage the mundane starkness of our utilitarian realities, bringing attention to the pragmatism that often prevails over creativity and spirit. Benjamin Brockman’s lights are intricately calibrated in tandem with the actor’s constantly shifting temperaments, and notable for the visual intrigue it manufactures during more heightened sections of the show. Sound and music by Sam Cheng are not only essential to the way our intuitions respond to every twist and turn of the story, but also memorable for a quality of transcendence it brings to the overall experience, thus allowing us to connect in personal ways with American Signs.

The Consultant sees no alternative to her ambitions. She tells herself that she is not a monster, at every step of her participation in a repugnant and cannibalistic process of getting to the top. It is true that it is the intention of the system to be ubiquitous, so that every individual’s investment in it, is considered non-negotiable. We are made to believe that there are no other ways that can sustain life. It is entirely possible however, that those at the bottom rungs will simply embark on a project of demolishment without a satisfactory plan of replacement, when the moment finally arrives, and a substantial population finds itself with nothing left to lose.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Stolen (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Jun 6 – Jul 6, 2024
Playwright: Jane Harrison
Director: Ian Michael
Cast: Jarron Andy, Mathew Cooper, Kartanya Maynard, Stephanie Somerville, Megan Wilding
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Stories about five Indigenous people from the Stolen Generations, interweave in Jane Harrison’s 1998 play, Stolen. Fractured yet determined, it remains an important representation of a collective trauma, one that is fundamental to the experience of being Australian, no matter one’s class or creed. Direction by Ian Michael is distinctive in its sense of quietness, although its power and impact are undeniable. Michael’s presentation of Stolen bears a meditative quality, almost reticent with its drama, yet none will be able to escape its confrontational and introspective effects. The poignancy of this staging is sure to be unforgettable.

A set design by Renée Mulder is based on the simple idea, of depicting the vulnerability of Blak children, in a space that demonstrates unequivocally, their powerlessness in the face of colonialism. Trent Suidgeest’s lights enhance the severe coldness of this brutal history, and James Brown’s music has us absolutely gripped by its melancholic foreboding. There is a sensitivity to these designers’ work, that cushions us in a certain safety, whilst intricately facilitating our observations of some truly harrowing events.

An ensemble of charismatic First Nations actors brings great courage and commitment, to this narrative of appalling injustice. Jarron Andy, Mathew Cooper, Kartanya Maynard, Stephanie Somerville and Megan Wilding may be required to delve into unremitting tragedies in their re-enactments, but it is their incredible resilience as individuals and as a people, that leave an impression.

The sensation of catharsis, that features so prominently in many offerings of theatre, is discernibly missing from Stolen. We continue to live on stolen lands, unable and unwilling, to come to a satisfactory resolution, therefore it is that corresponding feeling of unease and ruefulness that we find lingering, when the performance concludes. We are deprived of emotional release, because so much work needs to be done, before any of us can be granted anything that resembles deliverance.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The President (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Apr 13 – May 19, 2024
Playwright: Thomas Bernhard (translated by Gitta Honegger)
Director: Tom Creed
Cast: Danny Adcock, Helmut Bakaitis, Tony Cogin, Alan Dukes, Julie Forsyth, Olwen Fouéré, Kate Gilmore, Hugo Weaving
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
The president and first lady of a small unnamed European country have no one to talk to, even though there is never a shortage of hangers-on. They both go on long, repetitive tirades, clearly having stopped listening a long time ago, to anything but their own voices. The nation is on high alert, with the escalating threat  of anarchic activity, but both the head of state and his wife, are preoccupied with their own laments that are patently irrelevant to anyone but themselves.

The four acts in Thomas Bernhard’s 1975 play The President feel very much like a series of monologues, although there is always more than one actor present. In a work that is ostensibly about megalomania, Bernhard’s dialogue never sounds like conversation, and what the characters do say, is unlikely to be of great interest to contemporary audiences. What results is something that does not consistently engage, but under the directorship of Tom Creed, the production is certainly curious, if not completely fascinating. Although this half-century-old piece may not bear obvious resonances for our immediate epochal concerns, The President is nonetheless creatively assembled, and ironically refreshing in its presentation of a theatrical style that seems contrary, to what is considered en vogue.

Its visual aesthetic however is very much on trend, with production design by Elizabeth Gadsby offering sumptuous imagery through sets and costumes depicting the rich and rarefied existence of the political elite. Lights by Sinead Mckenna and sound by Stefan Gregory are relatively minimal in approach, never superfluous with their artistic gestures, only delivering elegant solutions for this instance of cerebral satire.

The luminous Hugo Weaving plays the president, commanding and mesmerising, almost able to help us make sense of all the despotic rants and raves inflicted by his part. Weaving’s capacity to portray someone despicable, whilst keeping us thoroughly charmed, is nothing short of masterful. In the role of the first lady is Olwen Fouéré, whose immense energy sustains our attention, and whose talent for blending the surreal with the natural, makes for a fascinating study of a woman unravelling, almost having us overlook the misogyny in Bernhard’s legacy.

So much of politics have changed since the original staging of The President, but it seems that the need to regard the powerful with suspicion, is eternal. Power affords those who wield it, secrecy and inconsequence, so that they may abstain from accountability, and act with no consideration for morality. Humans are susceptible to corruptibility; anyone can imagine themselves accorded unchecked authority, and understand that to withstand temptation requires extraordinary, or perhaps impossible, integrity. This can only mean that our leaders must be kept under constant scrutiny, even when we do entrust them with all our greatest hopes.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.gatetheatre.ie

Review: Into The Shimmering World (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Apr 2 – May 19, 2024
Playwright: Angus Cerini
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Kerry Armstrong, Colin Friels, Renee Lim, James O’Connell, Bruce Spence
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Ray is older now, but the life of a humble farmer means a conventional retirement is never quite within reach. In addition to his ailing health, the persistent drought seems determined to only make things harder. His wife Flossy, along with their sons, are however reliable sources of emotional support, and in Angus Cerini’s Into the Shimmering World, we see Ray’s last years becoming increasingly meaningful, even if the struggles never subside.

It seems a simple existence that Cerini’s play depicts, but it speaks profoundly from a space of thorough authenticity. There are no frills to Ray and Flossy’s days in the bush, so our explorations can only be about the essential and important qualities, of what makes a life worth living. Direction by Paige Rattray insists we pay attention to the minutiae, so that we come to an understanding, that it is in the details, that we can discover something truly significant, or even eternal, within fleeting moments that usually feel inconsequential. Into the Shimmering World takes us away from so much that is time-wasting and petty, and for 90 minutes, provides an opportunity to meditate on that which is real and noble.

That virtuousness pertaining to notions of simplicity, is reflected in a production design by David Fleischer, that functions purely to facilitate storytelling. There is nothing extraneous in Ray’s life, so there is nothing frivolous to be found in the set and costumes. Lights by Nick Schlieper do however manufacture instances of theatrical elevation, most notably during scenes that venture into the metaphysical. Music and sound by Clemence Williams are crucial in helping calibrate our temperament, in a show that is full of constant, but subtle, shifts in tone.

It is a deceptively quiet presentation, memorable for its stillness, but always with a submerged rumbling, that feels very much like the unabating sensation of human upheaval. Actor Colin Friels embodies that contained drama, in a portrayal of Ray that is remarkable for its integrity and hence, believability. Like most Australian men of his generation, Ray is not one for words, but Friels does excellently at conveying the textures of turmoil, that are so crucial to our appreciation of the work. Kerry Armstrong plays Flossy with warmth and tenderness, so that we may approach the tale with sensitivity. Other members of cast include Renee Lim, James O’Connell and Bruce Spence, all of whom bring thoughtfulness that help deliver valuable insights inherent in Cerini’s writing.

Legacy is not about vanity, but responsibility. We can deliberate endlessly about the meaning of life, but a commitment to leaving the world a better place than how one had found it, is the key to existential fulfilment.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: A Fool In Love (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Feb 6 – Mar 17, 2024
Playwright: Van Badham (after Lope de Vega)
Director: Kenneth Moraleda
Cast: Arkia Ashraf, Alfie Gledhill, Melissa Kahraman, Johnny Nasser, Contessa Treffone, Aaron Tsindos, Megan Wilding
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Phynayah is on the verge of turning 30, and unless she marries soon, a substantial inheritance will be forfeited. There is no shortage of suitors, but her serious lack of intellect means that the men are only in it for the money, and even Phynayah knows that love cannot be built solely on greed. Van Badham’s A Fool in Love, is an ultramodern adaptation of Lope de Vega’s 1613 play La dama boba, in which we explore matters of the heart and mind.

Badham’s work is further concerned with archetypal portrayals of women, and with Phynayah’s foolishness juxtaposed against her sister Vanessa’s book smarts, A Fool in Love wants us to consider the ways in which we are accustomed to talking about women, and the repercussions of those conventions. This is all done however, through a great deal of humour, in a production that labours too hard perhaps, to get the laughs.

The story is thought-provoking, and even though Badham succeeds at earning our investment into Phynayah’s plight, there is an obscure quality to the dialogue, probably derived from the age of the original, that provides a conversational style that is slightly rigid. Direction by Kenneth Moraleda is wonderfully flamboyant, and even though overzealous with its comedy, delivers a show that deeply engages our senses.

Set and costumes by Isabela Hudson revel in an unambiguous campness, as though indicating a queer attitude overlaying this feminist retelling of an old tale. Hudson too pokes fun wherever she can, especially in reference to how we perceive gender and class in the present moment. Benjamin Brockman’s lights add to the flamboyance, taking many opportunities to induce excitement in a production that is unafraid of being flashy. Sounds and music by Michael Toisuta could demonstrate greater sensitivity for the atmosphere being manufactured, but bears a dynamism nonetheless, that adds to the vibrancy of the piece.

Actor Contessa Treffone is a splendid Phynayah, genuinely hilarious but also unequivocally poignant when we need her to dial up the tension. Also extremely comical is Aaron Tsindos who as Lee and Neeson, never misses a beat with his jokes, yet offering consistent clarity to the intentions of both his roles. Johnny Nasser and Megan Wilding are equally fabulous with their timing and sensibilities, able to keep things believable, whilst convincingly inhabiting very heightened spaces. Arkia Ashraf, Alfie Gledhill and Melissa Kahraman are manifestly committed to all their parts, in a staging that is never short of manic energy.

It could be true that no woman is truly stupid, that it could just be that some of us make poor choices. In a world that often restricts us to inferior options, and that keeps us in disagreeable situations, many women can appear to make bad decisions, when in fact we are simply disallowed to live out our full potential. There is so much of what we are capable of, that is deemed inappropriate, repugnant or ruinous, by systems that only thrive when we are subjugated. Whether Phynayah develops her intellect, grows in courage, or stays the very same, she is always already divine.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Seagull (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 21 – Dec 16, 2023
Playwright: Anton Chekhov (adapted by Andrew Upton)
Director: Imara Savage
Cast: Arka Das, Michael Denkha, Harry Greenwood, Markus Hamilton, Mabel Li, Sean O’Shea, Toby Schmitz, Sigrid Thornton, Megan Wilding, Brigid Zengeni
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Constantine’s angst remains resolute, even though he no longer lives in 1896 Russia. Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull takes place in current day Australia, refreshed with modernised dialogue that effervesces amusingly, but is otherwise entirely faithful to the original. It is arguable whether these characters would think and behave the same, having moved continents and centuries. Even though human nature can be disconcertingly rigid, the dramatic (and iconic) conclusion of Chekhov’s play, feels too characteristic perhaps of an olden Russia. It is however certainly possible that that despondence is in fact no different, wherever and whenever the story takes place. Upton could be making the point, that we are in fact deluded, should we consider ourselves evolved and improved.

Nevertheless, the update feels somewhat tenuous, even though the contemporarised humour of the piece is an unequivocal pleasure. Directed by Imara Savage, the show is at its most appealing when moments are drenched in irony, as we watch persons of a certain privilege, unable to evade nihilistic despair. Reflecting on Chekhov’s times, we can associate The Seagull with impending revolutions, and explain that malaise within a context of disquietude and a thirst for upheaval. Watching the same tale unfold in our here and now, is a confronting proposition. That unflinching pessimism could be saying something appalling about the people we are, or we could simply regard this transposition to be somehow inauthentic.

All the same, drama is delicious. Actor Harry Greenwood as Constantine is less sympathetic than is traditionally portrayed, but renders an unassailable sense of truth and integrity, to persuade us of his narrative. Other notable performers include Mabel Li, equally impressive in comedic and tragic portions of Nina’s exploits, able to make convincing the drastic shift in temperaments, for this classic showcase of lost innocence. Sean O’Shea’s highly idiosyncratic turn as Peter proves thoroughly delightful, very extravagant in style but unquestionably charming with his interpretations of an ageing invertebrate. Playing Boris the cad is Toby Schmitz, wonderfully inventive and unpredictable, in his thrilling explorations of self-absorption and immorality. On stage, Schmitz’s impulsiveness is a real joy.

Set design by David Fleischer conveys a rustic sensibility, but always with a quiet sophistication that reminds us of the social class being depicted. Costumes by Renée Mulder emphasise the modernity of characters, keeping them accurately within the current generation. Lights by Amelia Lever-Davidson, along with sounds and music by Max Lyandvert, are extremely subtle until the final climactic scenes, when we are treated to a greater theatricality, as the show approaches its inevitable melodramatic conclusion.

The world tells Constantine that by virtue of his biological and social distinctions, that he is destined to be a leader and a winner. In the microcosm of his daily existence however, he only feels belittled and disgraced. Males account for three-quarters of suicide in Australia today. We can diverge in our understandings of that statistic, but it is a clearly a question of gender that cannot be ignored. We are all vulnerable beings. It is the quixotic notion that some of us have to be impervious to human fallibilities, that can drive a person to the brink.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Oil (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Nov 4 – Dec 16, 2023
Playwright: Ella Hickson
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Saif Alawadi, Violette Ayad, Jing-Xuan Chan, Callan Colley, Charlotte Friels, Josh McConville, Benedict Samuel, Brooke Satchwell, Damien Strouthos, Anne Tenney
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Ella Hickson’s Oil begins in 1889 with young May falling pregnant with Amy, whilst navigating abject poverty in Cornwall, England. With each subsequent chapter, May and Amy jump decades ahead theatrically, allowing us to see an evolution of English womanhood in parallel with the industrial revolution and, more specifically, the modern history of petroleum. It is a complex, although surprisingly comprehensible, work that deals with environmental degradation, along with providing an evaluation of the trajectory of Western feminism, as well as a meditation on human nature.

Oil talks about our survival, including both our ingenuity and our incapacities, for a narrative on our progress, and perhaps regressions, to offer new reflections on human propensities, benevolent and otherwise, that may inspire improved methods for how we may forge ahead. Paige Rattray’s remarkable direction of the work captivates with endless intrigue, for something that could have easily become overly intellectual. It asks many questions, and leaves them unanswered, yet we feel sated by the end, nourished by passionate and pointed depictions of our shared pasts and likely futures.

Actor Brooke Satchwell brings scintillating intensity and focus to May, the maternal figure who always intends to do her best, but who is never safe from making errors. Satchwell’s confidence helps gain our trust in the unpredictable storytelling, taking us on a confronting ride that proves to be thoroughly thought-provoking. Amy is played by Charlotte Friels, spirited and purposeful with her creative choices, admirable for her ability to cultivate excellent chemistry with all she partners with. The leads are supported by a highly proficient ensemble, with each performer leaving a strong impression, in a detailed and refined presentation of an urgent message.

Set design by Emma White is wonderful in its versatility, cleverly adapting to the requirements of each era, as the play takes inordinately big leaps through the years. The creation of props for the show are especially commendable, completely fascinating in the ways they embellish the space for a series of imagery to manufacture an absorbing realism. David Fleischer’s costumes are commensurately believable, adorning the cast with a persuasive sense of naturalism, even when we step into the realm of science fiction. The stage, in the round, is illuminated meaningfully by Paul Jackson, who demonstrates great care with how we perceive lights, in a tale based on the immense repercussions of our relationship with crude oil. Sound and music by Clemence Williams are intricately rendered, whether with their subtle influence or through bigger dramatic gestures, all effective in keeping our psyche deeply invested.

May wants always to make noble decisions, but there is something about her dedication to her own family unit that eventually appears selfish. We see May’s struggles for survival, and her earnest efforts in providing for Amy, and learn about the ignorance and the carelessness, in how we have conceived of the future. Oil encourages us to imagine alternatives, where we had perhaps previously believed that none exist. It contextualises existential threat in a way that makes us realise the inevitability of shifting our lives, and makes us want the notion of sustainability to henceforth become essential and unyieldingly ubiquitous.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au