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Review: The Dictionary Of Lost Words (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Oct 26 – Nov 16, 2023
Playwright: Verity Laughton from the novel by Pip Williams
Director: Jessica Arthur
Cast: Brett Archer, Rachel Burke, Tilda Cobham-Hervey, Raj Labade, Ksenja Logos, Angela Mahlatjie, Chris Pitman, Anthony Yangoyan
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
It was the end of the 19th Century when Esme began cultivating a passion for collecting words. She had observed her father working with a team editing the Oxford Dictionary, and felt compelled to save the many words, familiar only to women of the lower classes, but neglected in that process of authoritative evaluation and screening. It is no accident that Esme’s narrative in the novel The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams coincides with women’s suffrage and their historic campaign for the right to vote.

It is certainly a meaningful work that examines the culture of exclusion in our institutions, and proffers an example of radical acceptance by those in positions of power and privilege. This stage adaptation by Verity Laughton retains the valuable message of the original, but is overly faithful to the form and style of the book. It is unfortunately a transposition that often feels staid, with insufficient liveliness and wit to truly excite or inspire.

Direction by Jessica Arthur too is missing elements of joy or playfulness, in a production that proves to be needlessly serious. The story is worthy of its creators’ earnestness, but at three hours, a greater variance and theatricality in its tone is required, as the audience tries to invest into Esme’s journey of two decades. Actor Tilda Cobham-Hervey plays the lead role with integrity, able to convey the character’s benevolence persuasively, and with a distinct vulnerability that makes us endear to her life story. The cast of eight is warm and cohesive, admirable for keeping us attentive, even if their message is relayed too gently.

Set design by Jonathon Oxlade features hundreds of pigeon holes, guided by a narrative that discusses the nature of categorisation and organisation, so central to the ways we structure our societies. A projection screen occupies the entire top half of our vista, with helpful (although not always elegantly rendered) video supplementing the action. Ailsa Paterson’s costumes are appropriately conservative in their depictions of life in the Edwardian era. Lights by Trent Suidgeest are flattering and romantic, occasionally injecting a sense of drama to disrupt the general placidity. Music and sounds by Max Lyandvert add to the melancholy, unable to help with the lack of verve, but beautiful nonetheless.

The word “lost” in the title connotes inadvertence, that there is a certain lack of intention when classes and categories of people are excluded. This may be true on some levels, but the persistent refusal to address and amend these inequities only demonstrates a conscious choice of persisting with injustice. Esme does not present herself as a strident activist, she never partook in hunger strikes, or stood next to Emily Davison who in 1913 took to the race tracks in protest, only to be killed by the king’s horse. Regardless, individuals are always capable of making a difference, even if one is resolutely mild in temperament and constitution, every effort to identify our ills and turn them for the better, is how progress can happen.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.statetheatrecompany.com.au

Review: Is God Is (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Sep 15 – Oct 21, 2023
Playwright: Aleshea Harris
Directors: Zindzi Okenyo, Shari Sebbens
Cast: Henrietta Enyonam Amevor, Clare Chihambakwe, Kevin Copeland, Masego Pitso, Cessalee Stovall, Darius Williams, Patrick Williams, Grant Young
Images by Pia Johnson

Theatre review

Racine and Anaia are heavily scarred, by cruel and neglectful parents who seem to know nothing about nurturing or caring for their children. Left to their own devices, the twin sisters can only understand the world as violent and savage, as we watch them embark on an odyssey of murder, in Aleshea Harris’ Is God Is. A revenge fantasy filled with wild imagination and scintillating humour, the play is both terrifying and hilarious, in its portrayals of wayward youth, unhinged femininity and recalcitrant Blackness. The United States have never looked so subversive.

Directed by Zindzi Okenyo and Shari Sebbens, Is God Is delivers delicious humour, keeping us on the edges of our seats with unpredictable characters, who prove to be truly and thoroughly intriguing. There is nothing normal about Racine and Anaia’s lives, and seeing things through their eyes, means a completely fascinating, and dangerous, experience.

Costumes by Renée Mulder conjure imagery of ruined innocence, offering a childlike perspective, but one in a state of decay, as a constant reminder of the story’s despairing centre. Mulder’s set design involves a protean structure evoking notions of home, establishing for the production a whimsical style that draws parallels with the much more wholesome fare of juvenile television programming. Lights by Jenny Hector help manufacture drama, but is somewhat lacking when required to convey a sense of macabre during key moments of repugnance, for this occasion of genre theatre. Sounds and music are effectively rendered, by Joe Paradise Lui, to ensure that we navigate the varying tones of the production, as it slips and slides ever so subtly between comedy and horror.

Henrietta Enyonam Amevor and Masego Pitso play Anaia and Racine respectively, both actors vivacious and charismatic, able to blend naivety with brutality, for their confronting depictions of civilisation in disarray. The troubling pair’s mother is performed by Cessalee Stovall, who guides us to the truthful core of Is God Is, without sparing us the necessary discomfort of having to acknowledge the pain in that truth. Also remarkable is Darius Williams, who as the grandiose poet Scotch, gives us some of the biggest laughs, in a fabulous acerbic take on youthful and misguided masculinity. It is a marvellous cast, with each individual leaving an excellent impression with the complexities they introduce, along with the sheer entertainment they manufacture, for this very dark tale.

It only makes sense, that the most audacious fantasies should come from the most marginalised. Young, Black women are routinely underestimated, diminished and shunned. Being the very antithesis and embodiment of that which is pale, male, stale and therefore most highly valued, their perspective from a position diametrically opposite to the hegemony, is what will reveal the most of our ills. Is God Is may not choose to engage directly or explicitly with all our social issues, but just to have art of this nature materialise, is an indication of our capacity to shift, and a reminder that culture is always malleable.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.mtc.com.au

Review: The Visitors (Sydney Theatre Company)

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The Visitors is at the Opera House Drama Theatre from Sep 11 to Oct 14;
Riverside Theatres from Oct 19 to 21; and Illawarra Performing Arts Centre from Oct 25 to 28.

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Sep 11 – Oct 14, 2023
Playwright: Jane Harrison
Director: Wesley Enoch
Cast: Joseph Wunujaka Althouse, Luke Carroll, Elaine Crombie, Kyle Morrison, Guy Simon, Beau Dean Riley Smith, Dalara Williams
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Foreign boats have been making increasingly frequent trips to these shores, and our inhabitants are beginning to worry about their intentions. Seven clans have sent representatives to a meeting, to decide on a course of action; they must consider whether to be hospitable, or to demand the intruders’ departure. Jane Harrison’s extraordinary The Visitors can be thought of as a seminal work, undeniably important in its reflections about our final fateful days before colonialism.

Instead of abject despondency, which is an entirely appropriate attitude for this subject, Harrison’s play is dignifying, replete with intelligent humour, and often charmingly wistful in its depictions of an Aboriginal past. It takes us on a meditation of our history and its consequences, reaching a powerful conclusion that affirms and honours Indigenous sovereignty. There are endless themes we can explore in our art, but this issue of land ownership and of First Nations independence, must surely be paramount, in any of our discourse upon these terrains.

Wesley Enoch’s salient direction of the piece, makes the action feel as though it all happened just yesterday. The point being made is unambiguous and robust, and the show is emphatically inclusive of every viewer, in these pertinent investigations about the people we are. An outstanding cast of zealous actors demonstrate unequivocally the resilience and the indomitability of the communities that they represent so gloriously. Their chemistry is immaculate, in a show that speaks with a beautifully harmonious sense of solidarity. Especially noteworthy is Luke Carroll, who as Gordon, brings the production to a riveting emotional peak, so that we leave with absolute certainty about how we are to proceed, with out private and political lives.

Production design by Elizabeth Gadsby provides a juxtaposition of native and alien, in a way that inspires greater complexity to how we may choose to conceive of this iteration of the colonial experience. The unmistakably Western mode of dress is challenging, but valuable as a reminder of the hegemony under which we are conducting these discussions. The set pays tribute to the sacred quality of our landscape, persistent and eternal. Lights by Karen Norris take us somewhere ethereal, satisfying in the lyricism it evokes, to have us longing for a place that is magical in its simultaneity of being both distant and immediately accessible. Brendon Boney’s sounds and music are restrained to start, effective at facilitating our imagination of a precursive, more natural existence, but gains in intensity for the final minutes, to ensure our exhaustive investment into The Visitors‘ core intentions.

We may not be able to revert to a moment of origination, to undo every injustice, but we can always choose to forge better paths ahead. Our trajectory if left unchecked, will continue with its project of dispossession and division, exacerbating the many regretful situations we currently find ourselves. Humanity is capable of both benevolence and malevolence, and either way we choose to make our decisions, we must know that harm unto others, will always have unwitting reverberations that return to those determined to be callous and mercenary.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.moogahlin.org

Review: The Importance Of Being Earnest (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Sep 5 – Oct 14, 2023
Playwright: Oscar Wilde
Director: Sarah Giles
Cast: Gareth Davies, Melissa Kahraman, Lucia Mastrantone, Brandon McClelland, Sean O’Shea, Emma O’Sullivan, Bruce Spence, Helen Thomson, Megan Wilding, Charles Wu
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Gwendolen and Cecily have waited all their lives to marry a man, any man, named Earnest. That peculiar requirement for a beau is taken very seriously by both young women in Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, not only for the absurd comedy that ensues, but also for the ways in which heteronormativity is exposed for the preposterous standards it imposes on a person’s worth, and the irrational priorities it proliferates for how people are supposed to conduct their affairs. It attacks the very notion of marriage as the foundation of family and of society, from a queer perspective, at a time when queer voices could only be heard when disguised as harmless fun.

Indeed, the politics of Wilde are surreptitiously concealed in his work, not quite able to chastise or subvert in overt ways, the values of a culture that cause immeasurable harm to those it marginalizes, but certainly successful at ridiculing beneficiaries of inequitable power structures, who insist on presenting benign or even benevolent fronts. Director Sarah Giles takes inspiration from the furtive implications of Wilde’s writing, and gives meaningful amplification to the subtext that underscores Earnest, thereby imbuing the production with unexpected substantiveness. It seems Earnest always did contain consequential depth, but it takes someone of Giles’ calibre to help us perceive it.

Set design by Charles Davis incorporates the “downstairs” of Victorian stately homes, boldly revealing that which is traditionally and routinely suppressed. There is a grandeur to the imagery Davis has created that is quite breathtaking, with a memorable transition from town house to country estate, that proves absolutely spellbinding. Costumes by Renée Mulder too are unforgettable, extreme in their indulgence with visual flamboyance to deliver simultaneously, the theatrical joys of humour and of glamour, giving further expression to the fundamental queer sensibility that informs Earnest. Lights by Alexander Berlage and sounds by Stefan Gregory are more restrained, but no less measured, in a production that scores top marks with its design elements.

Actor Megan Wilding is a sensation as Gwendolen, infinitely creative and unequivocally hilarious with all the meticulous considerations she brings to the stage. Every inflection of voice and every perfectly timed gesture, not only induce fits of laughter, they serve to illustrate marvellously the personality being portrayed, and to ensure our engagement with the overall narrative. Lady Bracknell is played by Helen Thomson whose awe-inspiring sense of grandiosity is both comical and convincing, in order that we may stay firmly within the story, whilst we relish in her effortless manipulations of allure, sass and wit. The eponymous Earnest is appropriately sincere and passionate, as performed by an eminently compelling Brandon McClelland, who is as adept at making the role believable, as he is at giving us a funny character. There is however a glaring discrepancy in levels of hilarity being rendered, between members of this ten-player cast; all are undoubtedly accomplished, but some are clearly disproportionately persuasive, in a presentation that seems to turn into a competition for amusement.

Camp, as a style and as a political symbol, takes centre stage in this version of Earnest. It is not merely a device that emerges in opportune moments. It is pivotal to how we experience the show, and how we make sense of the same machinations undergirding the personalities on stage, that also rule our real lives. The illogicality of Wilde’s characters is heightened, and camp is thereby used to force an unmasking of the many things representing esteem and privilege, that are truly hollow. We are made to perceive concurrently that which is bad, along with how it is perversely favoured, in so much of how we live. In campness we can pretend to adhere and obey, as though we are laughing with, but in fact some of us in the gutter, are laughing at.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Constellations (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Jul 29 – Sep 2, 2023
Playwright: Nick Payne
Director: Ian Michael
Cast: Johnny Carr, Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review

The one certainty in Nick Payne’s Constellations, is that Marianne and Roland met one fateful day. Whatever happened thereafter, becomes a series of infinite and random configurations, in a play that explores the nature of consequence, and the idea of boundless possibilities. Things could have ended between the two after a single exchange, or a lifetime of connectedness could have eventuated, or indeed a myriad of combinations in between. Maybe all that can be imagined, does in fact take place simultaneously, in a world that is much bigger, much less ordered and linear, than we usually believe to be true.

Unequivocally intellectual, Payne’s writing is also witty and heartrending, offering the stage opportunities for a theatre that engages both mind and soul. Directed by Ian Michael, all of Constellations‘ immense potentialities are realised, in a production that absolutely captivates, to deliver an experience satisfying on every level, and leaving its audience deeply contented yet full of wonderment, newly curious about our planes of existence. Furthermore, as a work of classic drama, Constellations is intensely moving in its rendering of a love story, but also consistently and effortlessly funny, in many comedic moments that Michael instils exactingly, yet with an unmistakable lightness of touch.

Designed to perfection, the show features a glorious set by Isabel Hudson that is sure to take one’s breath away, from the very first encounter upon entering the auditorium. Dark gleaming surfaces depict characters in timelessness, floating as though representing both the material and immaterial, in a play that ventures inevitably into esoteric spaces. Benjamin Brockman’s spectacular lights coax responses from our emotions and senses, in the most detailed ways, ensuring  that heads and hearts follow each step of the complex plot, never for a moment disengaging from the presentation. Music and sounds by James Brown bring sublime beauty to the show, along with depths of profundity that the body understands more than the cerebrum, allowing enjoyment and appreciation of the show to extend viscerally.

The seamless collaboration between all aspects of the staging, is incredible to witness, including the two extraordinary performers, whose unsurpassed generosity and integrity, make Constellations unforgettable. As Roland, actor Johnny Carr brings interpretations and impulses that feel entirely natural, to a text notable for its abstractions. Every vacillating scenario is made believable and rational, with an unabating charisma that keeps us endeared to each mutation of the story. The mesmerising Catherine Văn-Davies is interminably dynamic in the role of Marianne, brilliantly inventive with each refreshed delivery of dialogue, physically manifesting the infinitude that is so resolutely central to the text. The sentimental dimensions of the play are crucial to sustaining our engrossment, and Văn-Davies’s commitment to portrayals of human vulnerability keeps us riveted to the unusual storytelling. Above all, it is the extraordinary chemistry between both players that makes this theatrical moment a special one, with a partnering that invites us to perceive love as an entity beyond conventional prescription. We are as magnificent as we allow ourselves to envision.

The gravity we bear in navigating life is partially tangible, and partially in the mind’s eye; there are portions more real and portions mutable. Finding ways to dissolve the boundaries that constitute meanings of selves, or in other words, to free oneself from definitions that necessarily impose constrictions, is to release the self to an expansiveness that must mean exaltation and peace. Constellations could be seen as a meditation on zen doctrines, or at least be a key to one instance of bliss.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: On The Beach (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Jul 18 – Aug 12, 2023
Playwright: Tommy Murphy (adapted from the novel by Nevil Shute)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Matthew Backer, Tony Cogin, Michelle Lim Davidson, Emma Diaz, Vanessa Downing, Tai Hara, Genevieve Lee, Ben O’Toole, Contessa Treffone, Kiki Wales, Elijah Williams, Alan Zhu
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Even though the war had well and truly ended, devastation and trauma lingered in the minds of both victors and losers. Nevil Shute’s novel On the Beach was published in 1957, 12 years after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the Americans. It imagines a future in which a final explosion occurs in the Northern Hemisphere, with devastating effects of radiation gradually spreading across the entire globe, including Melbourne where we meet the characters of Shute’s story.

This new stage adaption by Tommy Murphy, feels as much a period piece as it does resonate with contemporary pertinence. The dialogue has a tendency to sound drily obscure, but Murphy’s astute condensation of events for his version, allows On the Beach to speak urgently to our modern sensibilities. Whether we associate the story with our renewed experiences of a pandemic, or with our present anxieties around technological advancements especially as it relates to artificial intelligence, the play taps into a sense of doom that seems perennially a part of being human, no matter the epoch.

That masochistic fascination with catastrophe is harnessed powerfully by Kip Williams, who directs the production with astonishing sophistication, connecting with our taste for the morbid, in quiet but intense ways. The narrative of On the Beach is a distant runner up to the gratification supplied by the atmospherics being administered, in a show that deals in the philosophy of certain death.

Michael Hankin’s set design bears a skilful precision that allows for a minimalist aesthetic to operate, using the vastness of empty space to trigger fears pertaining to notions of desertion and annihilation. Lights by Damien Cooper further enhance that sensation of isolation and of insignificance, that we understand subconsciously to be our minuscule piece in the real scheme of things. Costumes, delightful in a very 1950’s manner, are poised and hyper-gendered, as authentically crafted by Mel Page. Auditory pleasures are a real highlight of the staging, with music by Grace Ferguson delivering transcendent romance, along with Jessica Dunn’s sounds that keep us firmly in a space of mournful apprehension.

Excellent performances by the cast ensures our sensory, if not always emotional, investment into their show. Ben O’Toole brings a beautiful and captivating rhapsody to Peter’s increasingly maddening states of anguish. Mary’s dignity is kept intact by the illuminative Michelle Lim Davidson, who exemplifies a woman keeping it together, at the most challenging of times. Contessa Treffone is relied upon thankfully for the crucial lightening of mood, as the irrepressibly vivacious Moira. Dwight is played by a sensitive Tai Hara, every bit the old-fashioned matinee idol, but also unexpectedly touching at the right moments. Also noteworthy is Elijah Williams, whose turn as Swain gives the show some of its greatest poignancy, right when it matters most.

Grace and composure at critical junctures, even if they seem to provide no discernible function, are emblematic of the best of who we are. In this production of On the Beach, ugliness is worse than death, and is mercifully nowhere to be seen. Our tragedy is certainly of our own doing, and it is appropriate that we should endure it, with the utmost dignified serenity that can be mustered.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Poison Of Polygamy (Sydney Theatre Company)

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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: Do Not Go Gentle (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), May 23 – Jun 17, 2023
Playwright: Patricia Cornelius
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Peter Carroll, Vanessa Downing, John Gaden, Josh McConville, Philip Quast, Marilyn Richardson, Brigid Zengeni
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
The Terra Nova Expedition, led by Robert Falcon Scott, departed from Cardiff, Wales, on June 15, 1910. That historic attempt to be the first to reach the South Pole may have been beaten by Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen, but Scott’s team left behind an indelible legacy, along with a towering beacon of inspiration, as can be evidenced in Patricia Cornelius’ sublime Do Not Go Gentle.

We encounter characters in Cornelius’ play when on their last legs of that fateful journey. The five young men from over a century ago, are transformed into elderly people approaching the very final chapter of life. The work delves into the subject of death, the only real certainty, yet routinely omitted from virtually all our interactions and discussions in Western contexts.

Do Not Go Gentle boldly explores some of our biggest fears, in order that we may reach the greatest truths, as is the purpose of our noblest artistic pursuits. There is so much that is meaningful and profound, in the most transcendent ways in Cornelius’ writing, and although director Paige Rattray admirably manufactures sensational spectacles for the blizzard filled production, it is invariably the intimate conversations that matter most.

In the vast auditorium however, we can often feel too distant from those deeply introspective reflections. The cast is commendable for always being mindful of bringing amplification to these pearls of wisdom, so that we may hopefully go away with substantial portions of this wondrous text resonating in our heads. Playing the adventurers are Peter Carroll, Vanessa Downing, John Gaden, Philip Quast and Brigid Zengeni, who all bring excellent gravity and believability, to the fantastical philosophies of Do Not Go Gentle. Also captivating are Josh McConville and Marilyn Richardson, who play surprising support parts, adding valuable variation to the textures of this lyrical work.

Set and costumes by Charles Davis are exquisitely designed to deliver both a sense of realism, along with the flamboyant theatricality expected of a lavish production. Paul Jackson’s lights are emotive and dramatic, effective at steering both our attention and our sentiments throughout the duration. Sound design by James Brown too is a powerful element, that helps connect us to a soulful beauty that regulates all the tumult encountered by Scott and his team.

Death is always close by, it is in fact omnipresent. In our colonised lives, not only do we have to act as though individuals are immortal, we are made to ignore the eternalness of our cosmos. Death then becomes a pervasive, persistent and insidious fear, one that completely upends our priorities, so that all our energies are expended on things that prove ultimately to be delusive and self-destructive. When we live as though we can cheat death, we are pretending that we are greater than the universe itself. The truth is in plain sight, but there is an arrogance that often prevents human submission to a greater order, and the price we pay for that hubris, grows bigger every moment.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Julia (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Mar 31 – May 20, 2023
Playwright: Joanna Murray-Smith
Director: Sarah Goodes
Cast: Jessica Bentley, Justine Clarke
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 
We know that Julia Gillard, our 27th Prime Minister, is made of some truly formidable stuff, simply for being the first woman to attain that coveted position. In Joanna Murray-Smith’s play simply named Julia, evidence of all her incredible grit and gumption, is consolidated into a 90-minute piece, telling a story not only of Gillard’s virtues, but also of the immense culture of sexism and misogyny, so fundamentally entrenched in Australian life. Holding office from 2010 to 2013, Gillard’s experiences as the most high-profile woman on these lands, meant that she had to navigate some of the worst abuse ever witnessed in the public sphere, at a time even more hostile to female leaders than today,  before the prior to the 2016 watershed #MeToo movement.

Murray-Smith’s writing is undeniably powerful, valuable both as documentation of a deeply significant moment of our history, and as a feminist work that proves enormously inspiring. Julia can at times feel excessively deferential, and can be charged with having minimised Gillard’s weaknesses and faults (in particular, her handling of issues pertaining to asylum seekers and to marriage equality), but its theatricality, structured around the celebration of a genuinely consequential personality, is one of rare exaltation.

The show is directed by Sarah Goodes, whose judicious sensitivity ensures that we see beyond the personal achievements of a remarkable woman, to consider the wider meanings of Gillard’s prominence. Goodes makes us think about the contexts of the ex-PM’s relentless mistreatment, along with the trails she had blazed, so that Julia becomes more than a tribute to one. 

Set design by Renée Mulder features mirrored surfaces that remind us of the infinitely far-reaching effects of Gillard’s accomplishments. Lights by Alexander Berlage are gently rendered to keep unwavering focus on the protagonist. Video projections by Susie Henderson offer elegant augmentation, to the simple imagery being presented. Music and sound by Steve Francis, enhance the gravitas being explored, in the feminist themes that are so intrinsic to how we understand the story of Julia.

Actor Justine Clarke is electric as our national hero, exceedingly precise with her delivery of every line, and resolutely present, in every moment of her compelling embodiment of this much-loved character. Vigorously poignant, yet dazzlingly splendid with her humour, Clarke’s is a faultless performance on technical levels, but more importantly, a marvellously enchanting creation, that reminds us of what it means to lead with morality and integrity.

Jessica Bentley plays a subsidiary role, as a person of few words, but nonetheless omnipresent as a woman of lower status, to whom Gillard’s efforts are dedicated, and without whom Gillard was unable to rise. This incorporation of a secondary personality,  one performed by a person of colour reveals quite importantly, an awareness around issues of racism in representations of Gillard’s legacy. Narratives of this nature frequently fall into traps of “white feminism”, and whilst this theatrical device is clearly well intentioned, there is a persistent discomfort in witnessing Bentley occupying various positions of silent servitude, all through the production.

It was certainly a momentous occasion when Gillard demonstrated that women too, are capable of ascending to the very pinnacle of positions. Whether or not it was a revolutionary event, is however debatable. If we concede that Gillard was an exception to the rule, we admit that little has changed, in the systems that we allow to run the world. On the other hand, to say that Gillard has not left behind permanent improvements, is manifestly inaccurate. Relying on any singular effort to change the world, is naïve and absurd. Heroes are gratifying as objects of admiration, but their greater purpose is to spur bigger numbers into action, when they have shown without ambiguity, what can be done when we believe in the good of our species.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.canberratheatrecentre.com.au

Review: Fences (Sydney Theatre Company)

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Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Mar 25 – May 6, 2023
Playwright: August Wilson
Director: Shari Sebbens
Cast: Bert LaBonté, Markus Hamilton, Damon Manns, Molly Moriarty, Zahra Newman, Dorian Nkono, Darius Williams
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review

In 1950s Pittsburgh USA, Troy and Rose try their level best at making a life for themselves and their children. Harsh conditions as evidenced most concretely in discriminatory Jim Crow laws of the time however, means that the couple’s dreams were always going to be dashed, no matter their effort. August Wilson’s Fences deals with the effects of racial subjugation, from the microcosmic perspective of a single family unit, and its inevitable disintegration. As with all great tragedies, we find ourselves rooting for characters, but also simultaneously anticipating their demise. In Fences, we understand that it is not the playwright’s manipulations that prevent the Maxsons from thriving, but the very realities of racism and its accompanying systemic reverberations, that have kept generations of African-Americans from fulfilling their greatest potential.

Powerfully directed by Shari Sebbens, the production speaks pointedly on both the intimate and the broader social contexts, of the Maxson family’s story. The drama works poignantly whether one is concerned with the personal aspects of Fences, or the implications on community, of a far-reaching story like this. Sebbens’ work feels beautifully organic, yet its intricacies are honed with great detail, resulting in a meticulously rendered presentation that always sings naturally and connects profoundly.

Set design by Jeremy Allen transports us somewhere thoroughly believable. Even though the Maxsons’ front yard from 70 years ago only exists in our imagination, what our eyes encounter is something that seems replete with verisimilitude, as are Allen’s costumes, similarly accurate in their depictions of Black life in mid-century Pennsylvania. Verity Hampson’s lights are conservatively, but thoughtfully, calibrated to engender an intense sentimentality, for a play that requires of us, emotional as well as intellectual investment. Sensual and soulful music by Brendon Boney draws from American Blues traditions, so that our sensibilities remain firmly in that historic time and place, one comprising the complex embroilment of bittersweet nostalgia and despicable oppression.

Actor Bert LaBonté delivers sensationally as Troy, with unremitting authenticity and disarming passion. He is heartbreaking yet reprehensible, sympathetic yet frustrating, in his noble portrayals of emasculation and righteous indignation. Zahra Newman brings great vigour to her interpretation of Rose, allowing the feminine half of the Fences story to make an almost comparable impact. Highly engaging is Darius Williams as son Cory, impressively nuanced and exquisitely tender, in a devastating narrative of circular histories. Markus Hamilton too, has us captivated as the mirthful Bono, with perfect timing and an extraordinary presence. Other cast members are Damon Manns, Molly Moriarty and Dorian Nkono, each one more charming than the other, in a show full of persuasive and likeable personalities.

Troy is fixated on his shattered hopes of becoming a professional baseball player of great renown. It is true that no person’s life can be guaranteed happiness ever after, based on the reversal of a singular precedent circumstance. It is also true however, that if racism is not the annihilating force pervasive in so many of our lives, Troy would have achieved not only his heart’s desire, but also a significantly improved existence overall, for himself and for his loved ones. Like Troy, many of us are conditioned to think more about personal failures, than to figure out ways to dismantle those harmful systems, within which all have to operate. Despondency is understandable, but those energies can be turned outwards, negative as they may be, to forge new paths that could bend the arc of history.

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