REVIEW BY AZMY AZURITE
EDITED BY EMMA PARFITT
“Humans are much worse than animals.”
St. Kilda Tales is a show you could come watch night after night, and each time emerge with a different picture of the characters—and perhaps even the world around you. You sit, entranced for two hours, as vibrant and memorable characters clash with each other throughout the whole space. To your left, your right, the centre, behind—there is not a moment or piece of space wasted in this brilliant cacophony of human interaction.
St. Kilda Tales is an organic flipbook of vignettes: brutally bodily, brutally local, and brutally human. I lost myself within its overwhelming familiarity. Imagine three drastically tonally different scenes happening all at once across the stage, the kinetic energy of a swarming crowd teeming with hopes and desires.
You can find this performance rave upstairs in The Explosives Factory: a building which was once a firework production house . Now, upstairs in a spacious room, The Victorian Theatre Company and Brisbane Music Festival are lighting a different sort of fire – fires filling the room with a more herbal smell, if you catch my drift.
This show illuminates life in the inner suburbs and examines it with empathy, forming a resounding photobook of being alive.
From turning around so your friends can’t see you crying at a party, to hitting the floor in frustration at the difficulty of finding someone who will touch you, to idealising and holding close the image of falling off the pier: St Kilda Tales has something that will ring true for everyone.
So, if there was one play that should be recorded and put in a time capsule for future generations, it should be this one.
Writer Raimondo Cortese has crafted an incredibly dynamic and rhythmic script. Matthew Connel (director) and Blake Bernard (assistant director/co-producer) have succeeded in the incredible feat of staging this script. Connel and Bernard perfectly encapsulate the overwhelm of everyday life, keeping things moving with their strong directorial vision.
The music and sound, composed by Jack Bochow and directed by Alex Raineri, compliment the performance wonderfully by crafting a rave-inspired electronic and drum-heavy soundscape. Bochow and Raineri’s presence on stage allowed for fascinating comedic moments with the characters. These intimate, thoughtful, and funny moments of interaction between the ensemble and the music empowered Bochow and Raineri to reveal a dimension of the characters that words alone could not provide.
The design here was brilliant as well: the set and costumes by Oliver Hall perfectly encapsulated the energy of a bustling Melbourne. Kris Chainey’s lighting elevated the show with its bold colours, situating us familiarly within the club setting.
This is an absolute powerhouse of a creative team, whose dedication to brilliance is evident with every choice.
It was incredibly interesting to see different character dynamics unfolding and I always had in the back of my mind the characters that I was most excited to see clashing against each other.
Perhaps my favourite example of this is Effi (Tariro Mavondo). Effi is a struggling and energetic sex worker who is always looking for a way to earn money—for most of the show, I was wondering why she goes to such great lengths, and I was desperately hoping for her to take a break for long enough to form a friendship with another one of the women.
It’s not often that we get a three-dimensional depiction of a sex worker, and Mavondo’s performance was touching, empathetic, and humanising. It’s clear she had an in depth understanding of her character, and the most I cried in the show was during her breakdown scene. Mavondo pushes so much energy into this performance, acting with a bursting heart. She embodies the character with a great deal of strength; I was gripped and desperate for a resolution to her tragedy.
Shaun Goss’ performance as the drag queen Frieda was brilliant as well; I loved seeing how other characters referred to Frieda, which varied due to their own perceptions of the world. This was a brilliant performance, with a lot of comedy and kindness.
The best friends Fleur and Lucy are played by Clarisse Bonello and Molly Holohan respectively, who nail that “been roommates and known each other for so long that we’re basically siblings now” sort of dynamic.
Michelle Perera plays Olivia, an ex-professor with a secret ex-husband. She is stunningly funny and relatable. Perera performed a rivalry with Goss hilariously; the discussions of travelling, constantly trying to one-up each other—all landed perfectly.
Anthea Davis becomes a quasi-religious figure with her gentle portrayal of Special, a homeless woman who loves to draw. She is misunderstood by many but always responds with an open heart full of love.
The cacophonous nature of the performance means the cast shines above all as an ensemble, with all-around individually standout performances coalescing to create a compelling collective experience. The genius of this show is that no matter your background, you will find characters that you resonate with in some way.
St. Kilda Tales makes a point of highlighting the diversity of its population and refuses to hold anything back.
The show hits on that universal feeling of being “in the sludge” of quotidian life, going about your day, and makes visible the serendipitous beauty of sporadic encounters and deep relationships with other people.
Every now and then there comes a show that makes you realise why we keep trudging through the sludge of life. We need these sorts of performances desperately.
St. Kilda Tales: A Performance Rave plays til May 10th at Theatre Works Explosives Factory.
AZMY AZURITE (they/them) is a 2nd year Creative Writing student at the University of Melbourne. In their spare time they enjoy watching theatre, playing video games, and thinking about studying.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre.
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