By Jennifer Beasley.
A surprisingly well written and performed absurdist/surreal play from emerging artists that deconstructs the Manosphere to reveal the misogynistic intent of toxic podcasters.
As a theatre critic I try to support emerging theatrical artists when I can. Thus, when contacted by producer James Pringle to review this absurdist 60-minute play featuring six theatrical students from Deakin University, I was more than ready to help where I could. Yeah, I know, I’m a softy. Who would’ve thought that of a critic?
Held at the delightful MC Showrooms in Prahran, this one act play really packs a punch.
With a strong theme that arrows with singular intent, this absurdist and at times surrealist play chooses the foppish tomfoolery of an Elizabethan (and at times Georgian) era in costumes and demeanour, as a parallel discussion on toxic objectification of women through the outlandish ideals of self-centred men.
Commencing on a bare set, the outstanding Giulia Magagna stages their dramatic and arrogant entrance as The King, appropriately dressed in vintage costumes with a great big black curly wig and fabulous makeup, before they launch into iambic pentameter to begin the story of Noble F*cking Gentlemen.
I highly commend all the cast for this writing, costumes and simple set. The strong theme allows lesser themes and conceits to hang gloriously from it, with a lovely foreshadowing and great quips and some audience interaction to underscore their intentions.
With the Epstein like King wishing to start their own podcast, they engage the support of their three inept sycophants, Lord Balthazar, Sir Antoni and Bart to spread their message of toxicity and oppression.
Strongly acted with focused characterisation is Lord Balthazar, from Fitzroylandia. A great turn by Charlotte LeDuke, whose units of action really nails this character and pushes the absurdist elements. Their interpretation of the overly masculine Lord is told through body movements (sitting down with their legs spread cracks the audience up), vocal pitch changes and a wonderful use of the stage (good direction here too as all the actors covered the space).
Bart, ‘Just Bart’, is acted by Lucinda Greene. They take the dim-wittedness to the extreme, with this befuddled and posturing idiot a passive follower. Until a lovely segue near the end, where Bart starts to question the unrelenting hatred aimed towards women. A wonderful foil to the over-the-top silliness of the Lord.
The last of this Manophere trio is closeted homosexual Sir Antoni, played with restraint by Aaron Sinclair. A strong and stable performance that intercuts the absurdism with their own brand of quiet interjections. This reveals their hidden sexual nature and shows their agenda to support The King and their extremist ideals while covering their own ‘otherness’, which would be equally vilified by the other two buffoons.
Swinging throughout the play is the harlequin character, part Jester, part Flutist, but wholly suppressed ‘by Men’ is Judith, acted by Taiya Ashlee. Initially not able to speak, they communicate via signs (which are ignored), then as the podcasting becomes more manic, Judith finds their voice. I did find that the exposition of Judith in their monologue at odds with the play. It certainly would have held more impact if the absurdism was carried into deification of this character, which would have been an opposition of the theme and landed with greater satisfaction.
Good comic moments are injected by David Elliot, who plays a variety of supporting roles. I would have loved to see this actor really push into the apathy that starts to bleed through at the last half of the show, as this also supports the theme and the underlying apathy of the male characters in general. As well as being very funny.
On the whole, good use of the stage, however, tighten up the moments where no one is covering the space. This drags energy off the play, which is picked up by the audience. I would also recommend really leaning into the absurdism. The dance scene could be ramped up as well. The references to misogynistic sit-coms, Melways and the nightclub scene of King Street add depth and intelligence to this play.
Simple lighting by Dylan Talbot is adequate, and great sound by Ruben Jawoski pushes this play from amateur into professional status.
A thoughtful, funny and intelligent play that is structurally sound. Great job and I believe this emerging troupe will be on my Watch List for the Future.
