By Jennifer Beasley.
Leading towards the new Millennium, Gary Helmore’s play examines Queer history, and the heartbreak of love.
Playwright Gary Helmore (The Night Market, Golden Boy), not only writes superb monologues, but he has that other necessary skill, he is self-reflective and realistic.
These attributes are de rigueur when a play is in its infancy. If the playwright is lucky, everything works, once the play has gone through the mill with workshops, table reads and the excellent tutelage of Clare Mendes, the manager of Melbourne Writers’ Theatre and an absolutely brilliant producer too.
However, it’s not until a play is staged and breathes itself to life that any inconsistencies and flaws show themselves. That’s what rewrites are for.
This is the case in point for Helmore’s soulful play, the 75 minute He Partied Like It’s 1999.
The premise, centring on 60-ish Reg, who is/was married to Rose, is what his tee shirt says, A Late Bloomer.
Reg, acted by Stephen Najera (The Chinese Art of Placement) is trying to discover who he is and reconcile his sexuality to his new identity. To this end he has left Rose, whose contained acting by Janine McGrath (Evenings With Janine, Queen Evil-streaming now on Prime) is beautifully and subtly presented as this flamboyant woman who is equally passionate about causes and protests as Marxist Reg, and still in love with him, but who now has to reconcile the betrayal of Reg as he has left the marriage and found love with Hunter. A raw pain found in many women and treated with insight and respect by the writer.
The much younger Hunter, played by Anuj Mehra, is afflicted with AIDS, and in 1999, although at the tail end of the deadly pandemic, it is still considered a death sentence by many, including the terrified Hunter.
This taunt triangle sets a powerful dynamic, where resentment (Rose), insecurity (Reg), and the prospect of a looming death (Hunter) are the strongest scenes in the play.
Interjecting comedy is the connecting piece of Drag psychic Angela Mercy, an OUTSTANDING performance by Karlis Zaid (Loving The Alien) who plays a slightly snarky yet truth telling ‘psychic’.
Mercy’s throw away lines, ‘shame is like glitter’, and ‘every seduction comes with its own dysfunctions,’ and her over-the-top and theatrical persona, allows her to say the unsayable, yet be acceptable in social norms due to society’s tolerance for the outrageousness of Drag Queens (and Kings as well).
Then there is that monologue, the piece that rips your heart out and cuts it to ribbons. Mercy drills down on the disastrous Gay scene in 1985 London, where AIDS, drugs and homophobia decimate the homosexual population, destroying lives and loves with a scythe made of pain.
In equal measure, Helmore writes emotionally charged monologues for Rose, her pining for happier days unencumbered by emotional baggage, Reg, between two worlds but pulled by his passion for Hunter and the intergenerational divide, and a fabulous performance by Hunter – grief, fear and desire a heady mix as he verbalises his lack of a future. Heartbreaking.
There are also two other characters. Lucinda, rather awkwardly played by the softly spoken Tahlia Moffatt (Back To The Rafters) as a Goth, in a role that needs more grunt, and the luminous Rwanda, the ever-beguiling Rachel Edmonds (Cost of Living) as the non-binary lover of Tahlia. Their monologue, addressing their self-erasure by medical ‘professionals’ because they don’t know which ‘box’ to put them in gender wise, is acted with intensity, underscored by distress and confusion. Again, the gift of Helmore fires into life.
My challenge here lays with this storyline, as it almost feels like another play. Although the couple are mirroring the triangle of the core story, and the thematic statements of ‘to thy own self be true’, and’ intergenerational connections ‘(the budding friendship between Rose and Lucinda), it does not feel rounded enough. I always ask myself when I am reviewing, how does this [scene/character etc] serve the play? Could these characters be removed (kill your darlings) and make the triangle more compelling? Could Angela play a greater role as a foil to Rose, one gaudily obsessive to another, yet a Ying/Yang vibe? These are questions for Helmore to muse upon, and something I hinted at with him after the play.
Direction by Andrew Blogg (Damaged) keeps things flowing, although I would have liked to have seen more physical intimacy, or implied longing between Reg and Hunter. The sexual tension didn’t quite hit the mark (a missed opportunity when Reg arrives and Hunter is in the wheelchair, where Hunter should not leap from his confinement, that didn’t make sense), and for a play aimed for the Midsumma festival, rather light on with sexual content, aside from Rose’s assertions of a sexless marriage and secret yearnings for fulfilment.
The set is fabulous. The many sections of couch, door, café seating and rug are all functional and support the play. Equally the lighting and sound with vintage 90’s music is brilliant and congratulations John Jenkins.
Well done too to the stylist Peter Chegwidden. This is a professional production, and on opening night all the cast are word perfect in their identifiable roles with appropriate costumes, wigs and makeup. I love McGrath’s shoes.
Overall, this play shows great promise. Helmore is an accomplished writer, and the Greek Tragedy implied ending is tastefully done. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, as did my film directory buddy, who caught up with Andrew Blogg to discuss all things film!
Fabulous and it’s a must see for the monologues and Karlis Zaid, whom I’m sure will be wanting a one-man show written around this character.
He Partied Like It’s 1999 is playing at 8:30 pm at Explosive Factory until 31st January 2026.
Image: coniferhillphotography
