Housework: The Hard Work of Democracy

CC image courtesy of Nigel Paine

Housework
Dunstan Playhouse
State Theatre Company
Tue 11 Feb, 2025

It was a little unnerving to watch a show trashing the inner workings of democracy just as the world’s foremost democratic state across the Pacific is busy dismantling theirs. The timing is exquisite.

So too is the timing of the pacy dialogue between the six cast members of Housework. Set changes are marked by a loud military style drum beat and a ticking clock. The pressure is relentless and the need to get your message out quickly is paramount. When not firing messages at each other MPs and their staffers are racing down the corridors of power to the next confrontation.

A wonderfully cold, hard, and grand set design facilitates these multiple movements and adds a gravitas that belies the petty intentions of the building’s inhabitants. One may enter politics with grand delusions about making the world a better place but any optimism is quickly worn down by a realistic pragmatism. Cynicism trumps naivete as negotiations become a process of conniving, backstabbing, tit-for-tat I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine. This is the sad, but at the same time hilariously funny, source of humour for plays like Housework.

We’ve seen it before in TV shows like Yes Minister and Utopia – political absurdity is a rich vein of humour that never seems to tire, but at some point, beyond the laughs, one wonders whether this kind of democracy is very productive. It’s convoluted, slow going, and spits out professional and personal casualties.

Shannon Rush’s smart direction and an innovative set manages to convey the impression that there are crowds of people in the house: MPs, staffers, ministers, protesters, cleaners – all buzzing about taking care of business.

Emily Taheny is simply wonderful as the Chief of Staff for a federal MP as she controls all movements and narratives around her boss with perfect grasp of tone and manner. She pays attention to every little detail as a senior staffer, and consummate performer. She’s a joy to watch. Franca Lafosse is excellent as the hapless junior staffer and her excitement at being at the coalface of politics is endearing and infectious. She quickly learns the game – perhaps too quickly – and pays the price for crossing boundaries.

Susie Youssef as the MP shows great comic timing with several funny one-liners, and it was a nice touch to have Sunitra Martinelli play the part of both cleaner and Prime Minister. After all, someone has to “clean up all this shit”!

Despite all the wheeling and dealing, the blame and accusations, the conniving and backstabbing, the characters seem ultimately to care for each other somewhere. There appears to be tacit recognition that they are trapped in a system that brings out the worst in people and underneath it all that they might actually have some respect for each other.

And what’s it all for ultimately? The love of democracy? The good of the country? To make people’s lives better? The final scene provides the answer with brilliant simplicity!

Great theatre –  superbly functional set, humour in spades, and a witty and insightful play perfectly executed by a first rate cast who didn’t miss a beat.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)

The Children - State Theatre Company - Review

 FEB 9 2024

In 2011 a nuclear power plant in Fukushima caused a radiation scare when its reactors were destroyed as a result of an earthquake and subsequent tsunami. British playwright Lucy Kirkwood has created a similar scenario in a small English town for her 2016 play, The Children.

Despite the background drama The Children gets off to a very low-key start with a commanding looking Tina Bursill standing in a kitchen that is obviously not her own. She plays the part of Rose, and she has let herself into the house of old acquaintances, Hazel (Genevieve Mooy) and Rob (Terence Crawford).

Things are a little tetchy between Hazel and Rose – they are clearly not great friends. When Rob appears a little later we find out why. On the surface The Children just seems to be about renewing social connections after decades apart. Sure there is talk of ‘an exclusion zone’, contaminated water, and intermittent power supply but these aspects of life are just woven into everyday conversations with little drama. It almost seems that life is pretty much normal. Perhaps the point here is the frog in boiling water principle: that people can get used to anything.

In any event Rose has returned with a grander plan. She is looking for older recruits to shoulder more responsibility and enable younger people to leave the area for a chance at a longer, healthier life away from a nuclear contaminated region.

This implausible course of action only has value if seen as allegorical. It would seem that Kirkwood is suggesting that it is incumbent upon older generations who have overseen the gradual destruction of much of the natural world to make amends before they exit the planet. They have a moral responsibility to bear the brunt of the damage and put themselves on the front line of the battle. Rose and Rob seem willing, but Hazel’s not so sure: “I come from a line of long-living women!”

The Children is effortlessly played by three veterans of stage and film, and as expected all three are totally convincing in their respective roles. Dialogue is crisp and witty, and dance and yoga scenes towards the end add visual clues about the complexity of their relationships.

The Children is an intriguing night out. It’s entertaining, and poses big questions without being didactic or too depressing. Quite charming really.

Dictionary of Lost Words

The Dictionary of Lost Words

Dunstan Playhouse
Wed 27 Sep 2023

At first pass the tale of a young woman growing up dreaming of being a lexicographer may not present as a ripping yarn.  But courtesy of some astute direction, wonderfully creative use of an eye-catching set, and uniformly excellent performances from the whole cast The Dictionary of Lost Words is totally engrossing.

We meet Esme as a four year old hanging around in her father’s ‘scrippy’ or scriptorium (a place for writing).  Her father works for an eminent scholar who is compiling a dictionary. With that kind of upbringing Esme was always going to grow up either loving or hating words, and fortunately she realises words can be an escape, a path to alternative realities, and collecting new words and quotations to show their use becomes something of an obsession.

The story unfolds in the late nineteenth century as the suffragette movement is gaining momentum in Britain. Wanting a more independent life than most women, Esme had already decided that marriage was not for her and was potentially a suitable candidate to help further the suffragette cause.

As Esme grows older she begins to accompany her maid to the local market. This turns out to be a surprising entry point to another universe for Esme when she strikes up a friendship with a woman selling hand-made trinkets. Their first meeting was hilarious and quite a shocking exposure to another world for Esme.

The rapid set transformation from scriptorium to market was also a wonderful surprise for the audience. In a trice we move from a stuffy office with desks, paper, people in suits, shelves, to a lively joyous scene with vendors, beggars, flowers, fruit, colour, and noise on streets heaving with life.

However the scriptorium itself held plenty of visual interest. A wall of shelves served as bookshelves, letterboxes, pigeon-holes, library catalogue compartments, and gateways to secret passages. An ingenious projection device variously displayed information about date, locations, words with definitions, abstract backgrounds, visual metaphors to reinforce the messages – it provided another separate but connected filter on events taking place and added depth and mystique to many scenes – brilliant!

Tilda Cobham-Harvey’s performance as Esme was faultless and inspiring – as a child, teenager, and young woman. Her ability to grow – literally – in this role and share her frustrations, joy, love and enthusiasm was authentic and endearing.

Ksenja Logos as Mabel the market tramp deserves special mention for her earthy comic touch and entertaining revelations about the language of the lower classes, but really – all characters played their roles to perfection. And despite their sometimes pompous façade they all had a warmth and humanity about them.

Sometimes it can be subtle, almost unnoticeable moments that elevate a play to another level. There were two occasions when unspoken lyrics from The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond were implied and totally in synch with the events on stage. This production is littered with such metaphorical moments reinforcing the narrative.

A great show. So good to see so many elements of theatre blended into an impressive whole!

This review also published on The Clothesline.