Small
towns don't feel small when you grow up there. That comes later.
The world as you know it seems wide. You feel close to it, the smells,
the seasons, the secret places. But slowly, imperceptibly, like childhood
itself, that comfortable, familiar, reassuring world starts to slip away.
– Noel Mengel, RPM
Julia-Rose Lewis’
assured first play Samson is a one of
those coming-of-age stories which dot the landscape of the Australian psyche.
Set in a small country town, the play follows the lives of Essie, Beth, Sid,
and Rabbit, as they collide, love, fight, dream, and burn burn burn. Co-produced
by Belvoir and Brisbane’s
La Boite theatre, Samson arrives in Sydney after a
two-week run in Brisbane
fizzing with life, exploding in Belvoir’s Downstairs theatre with vitality and
something akin to incandescence.
Sometimes you encounter
a piece of theatre which seems to shine with its own light, theatre which
reaches out into the darkness of the auditorium and gently holds you, slips its
fingers under your skin and doesn’t let go for a very long time afterwards. It
was March 2012, and Rita Kalnejais’ Babyteeth was
playing in Belvoir’s Upstairs theatre; billed as “a
mad, gorgeous, bittersweet comedy about how good it is not to be dead yet,” it
was filled with a warmth, a big-heartedness, and an almost-visible hum, and was
– still is – one of the most beautiful new plays I’ve ever seen.
Babyteeth was directed by Eamon Flack,
Belvoir’s Associate Director – New Projects. I don’t make a secret of being a
strong admirer of his work as a director, in particular his work at Belvoir. Following
his recent appointment as Belvoir’s new artistic director from 2016, I sat down
with Flack at the beginning of the year for what became an in-depth discussion
about the classics, dramatic and historical context, his intentions as incoming
artistic director, and about the need for compassion.
Music, produced by Stories
Like These and playing at Griffin Theatre, is a “sharp critique of the way mental illness is perceived today,” and digs
deeper to fathom the “consequences of raiding people’s personal lives in the
name of art.” Written by Jane Bodie, it is the story of two actors (Sarah and
Gavin) who befriend a seemingly innocuous young man (Adam) in the name of
research for an upcoming play, unaware of the minefield and eggshells they are
walking on with every step. Like Stories Like These’s last production seen at Griffin – 2013’s Rust
and Bone, also directed by Corey McMahon – there is a robust sense of
craft to both the writing and the production, and it is an intense and riveting
uninterrupted one-hundred mintues.
