REVIEW BY ELLA CALLOW-SUSSEX
EDITED BY EMMA PARFITT
It was a cold and dreary night in May. Autumn wind, having finally taken hold in Melbourne, made my fingers brittle and after not heeding the copious warnings about terrible parking at Theatre Works, I started the long walk to the theatre just as it started bucketing down. I wanted to turn around and go home. I will be forever glad I didn’t.
Myf Hocking’s new play Storked is a triumph of queer theatre. Presented by Antipodes Theatre Company with Theatre Works, the play takes the detached fairytale style image of a stork delivering a perfect pink or blue baby to your doorstep and all but rips the stork’s head off. It is visceral, it is thoughtful, and it is vital. As the catchy blurb foretells it explores “monogamy, pregnancy, parenting and chosen family” as well as “living in a body that constantly betrays you.” It’s a thinker; come with your brain turned on and your heart open.
Storked consists of a series of vignettes with characters ranging from family members you can’t help but recognise to an undulating fetus you won’t be able to drag your eyes from. None of the many characters that each performer swaps between are given a name or a personalised arc, but I didn’t find myself craving that like I usually do. That is because one of the many strengths of this show is in the chemistry of its ensemble.
It is a testament to director Maude Davey that all the personal investment I needed came wholly from the heart and connection of the performers. The performers are playful and human, and I found myself forgetting the once-desired rising and falling tension of a central protagonist and instead mentally, and physically, leaned in, as if I could reach out and touch the warmth if I just looked at them all hard enough. I felt a kinship with them, despite being a stranger. Davey has pulled together a group of performers, each formidable, and made them a unified force — a unit that feels like it breathes as one. I also want to take this moment to highlight intimacy coordinator Bayley Turner and the necessity of having intimacy coordinators in theatre, because I strongly doubt that this comfort, which perseveres through some quite passionate make out scenes, would have been possible without her work. For a work so concerned with the body and the way it can hold or betray you that is remarkably relevant.
The first performer I’ll mention from their dynamic ensemble is Elliot Wood. Wood is a grounding force in a piece that hurtles at breakneck speed. Between their many characters they are playful and charming with a repartee with the audience that induces light-hearted shame when you find yourself laughing at the plight of a stork with terrible working conditions. They know how to break tension expertly and while many of their scene’s centre around other characters it is clear that Wood is a giving and intelligent scene partner. He also impressively does not break once despite a … litany of intimately loaded anatomy terms in their first central scene.
Wood’s scene partner in that early scene is Milo Harthill who is clearly made for the stage. Their ability to morph between comedy and total sincerity is truly captivating, it’s like with a shift of her eyes they hold your whole heart, and you just have to trust they won’t crush it. Harthill delivered an impromptu comedy night section in the middle of the piece that pulled me into a total trance.
When describing the 60’s Kiki Temple has a distinct sparkle in her eye. She remarks that communal living in the face of the current crisis doesn’t sound so bad, reminding us that if we are pretending that homophobia, transphobia and sexism are relics of that time we are sorely mistaken. It is an endearing monologue but most impressive to me were Temple’s scenes as the doctor to a person seeking a hysterectomy. The conversation was all too real and a display of realism that I wasn’t expecting from such a clearly capable comedic performer but was ultimately a welcome addition to the piece. She also made a majestic Goddess of Moth.
Playing the other half of that grounded realistic doctor’s office scene is Teo Vergara. Presented first as a child at Christmas I was expecting Vergara to continue as the quiet and sacrificial lamb archetype throughout the show and I could not have been more wrong. Vergara is a force of nature on stage. Their awareness and control over their body is awe-inspiring. At times it felt the words came from their body just as much as their mouth able to tell complimentary stories with ease. Sincere and hopeful, their scenes light a fire in your mind and your soul.
I also need to point out the work of set designer Viv Hargreaves who masterfully employs levels and simple symbolic pieces to support a piece with such widely varying spatial demands. The use of a semi sheer scrim was dynamic and a boon to the work of lighting, video and vision designer, Jenny Hector, who seamlessly delineates so much space and utilizes the increasingly common technique of projection in a deeply theatrically integrated way which that honoured and enhanced the story.
I have left Myf Hocking for last because this show really rests on a truly incredible script. It is exceedingly difficult to walk the line of trite-ness and cliché when assembling vignettes. One misplaced line can make the whole thing feel preach-y and you can lose an audience so fast. It is Hocking’s balance of play and heart-breaking sincerity that makes the show. We should not expect people to dissect themselves in front of us to consider their art valid. The pressure on queer folks especially to turn pain into art is something we should always interrogate. But what a triumph to see such a vibrant cast so totally alive and a leader so honest. I personally will be front row for anything Hocking writes in the future. Their work has made me reconsider the power and weight of deconstructing the narrative and centering humanity and thought over spectacle and order.
After a thunderous round of applause, the performers asked us if we enjoyed it to tell our friends, and if we hated it to tell our enemies. I hope it is clear which side of that dichotomy I land on but regardless I am telling all of you. Go! Go for the heart of it, go for the humanity of it. Go especially if you are queer, if you are a woman, if you were ever told what a great parent you’d make at an age it was insane anyone was thinking of you as an incubator for new life. I hope one day the script is published. I would gladly sit with these words for longer than one show can ever allow.
Antipodes Theatre Company’s Storked by Myf Hocking plays at Theatre Works until May 24th.
ELLA CALLOW-SUSSEX is a theatre maker and reviewer for the Dialog. She is currently completing a Bachelor of Arts majoring in English/Theatre Studies and Creative Writing.
EMMA PARFITT (she/her) is the Dialog’s head editor and has written Dialog reviews alongside studying towards her science degree for the past two years. She is a production manager, stage manager and producer on the Melbourne indie theatre scene and a veteran of student theatre at Union House Theatre.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre.
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