REVIEW BY GRYFF CONNAH
EDITED BY CHARLOTTE FRASER
It’s a balmy spring afternoon at North Melbourne’s Meat Market, and I’m queuing to be taken into the venue.
I’ve been in this line before; it’s the line that forms prior to any house inspection in Carlton North or Fitzroy. But this time I’m not here to inspect the grout-work of a fading Collingwood terrace or the withering wallpapers of a Brunswick East standalone.
This time I’m here to inspect the inner workings of Five Bells Collective’s ‘New Home’, and I’m more than excited. I’m first in line!
As I take a seat, I get my first glimpse of Peter Bread (Dan Fonn Prichard) and Christina Baker-Bread (Janine Kwok). Kwok adjusts Prichard’s tie as reassuring coos and compliments are exchanged, and we sense that they are preparing for something. This is a perfectly staged interaction from director Josh Higgins: its candour beckons us into their world. They’re situated within a set (designed by Alexi O’Keefe) that can only be described as ‘site-specific’, dominated by spaced wood palette furnishings and one conspicuously placed flatscreen. I begin to get an idea of where this story may be heading. A couple, a building site and broadcast media? All I’m waiting for now is the eminent Kevin McCloud.
And on he comes; well, her! Presenter Kiera McGlashan (Eleanor Golding) enters heralded by a hauntingly familiar soundtrack and a delightful parody of the Grand designs intro sequence. Behind her is her dutiful Cameraperson (Claudia Scott), whose fealty to the shot is expert. And it has to be – because it’s live on the monitor!
Golding ushers us into the first scene, where we get to meet Peter and Christina properly. They’re the usual type that we’ve come to know and love on our architectural lifestyle flicks. Young, inexperienced and painfully aspirational. Peter is eager to foreground his enthusiasm for the build and he is pedantic and particular in his answers to Kiera’s queries. Prichard does a masterful job at constructing a character that is simultaneously grating and exceedingly charming. His pointed Well, Kiera…’s reek of man-splanation, yet his boyish zeal for the project is infectious. He’s watchable, that’s for sure.
Kwok’s Christina is accommodating and amicable, with great nuance. No doubt she is compensating for the fervour of her husband, who she has to rein in at times. She loves Peter, although I cannot help but wonder how much longer for. Kwok hints at fractures and strains within the relationship through well-placed grimaces and silences. We all know that self-builds are baptisms of fire, and homemakers rarely exit the process unscathed.
Golding leads the conversation in a cool and confident command of the RP register. She sells the McCloud fantasy effortlessly, and I’m on the edge of my seat as she surfs the formalities and quips of any good build-show. We learn that the couple intend to modernise Christina’s childhood home that sits on a sheer hinterland slope on the edge of Wilson’s Prom.
And by modernise, I mean modernise. What is branded by Peter as a ‘renovation’ is revealed to be a full-blown demolition of the original structure, with a veritable cubist McMansion to take its place. Peter is rearing and ready to go, however Christina is decidedly more hesitant; although she masks this with a great subtlety when the camera is live.
The live projections, designed by Jacques Cooney Adlard to incredible effect, brilliantly elucidate the fraught intersection between authentic and performed realities. It’s a double performance really, considering that we are also watching in real time. I’m caught between wanting to observe the actors themselves and their likenesses on screen – both are equally interesting and both are drenched in the trappings of performativity. The only crowd these two characters are fooling is themselves, and it’s delicious to watch.
As the play goes on, we track the evolution of this build and all that is set against it. We meet the wonderfully aloof but distinctly ever-present architect Gideon (Meg Punzet), who appears to be more harbinger than saviour, and whose relationship with Christina is intriguing to say the least. Punzet’s timing is excellent, and their constant tinkering invokes a real sense of unease. They’re the first to cop the blame from Peter when, in a beautifully Atlantean twist, the build eventually topples into the ocean after a storm. Even though they offer to help with the rebuild (a favour for fellow MAMIL Peter), we can never tell whether they’re sticking around to see the build through, or to watch Peter’s demise.
It is this demise that is the defining narrative arc of New Home. For writers Higgins, O’Keefe and Adlard, Peter serves as a vessel through which to explore the dangers of hubris and the myriad ways in which we fall victim to our own expectations. Prichard plays a tragic hero of sorts. After the collapse of the first foundations, Peter pushes onward. He drains the budget and loses himself in the site (he is the sole builder of this ‘exorbitant’ monolith) eventually estranging himself from Christina and their children. When he is finally left to his own devices, he casts aspersions blindly, cursing Gideon and Christina at length: ‘They’ve FUCKED me’ Prichard repeats to camera and a bemused Kiera McGlashan. He fails supremely to see inward, and, in the end, he is left with nothing but the shell of a house and a shell of himself.
It is the writing of this work that is its greatest triumph. Part-satire, part-tragedy, New Home moves with the pretence and flourish of a lifestyle series but speaks with the truth and candour of any good Sophocles or Euripides. We are left feeling both pity for Peter, and fear that we are capable of the same, as he states ‘don’t build your life out of bricks. They can’t love you. They can’t comfort you. They just stand there, waiting for you to die.’ The writers outdo themselves in their careful construction of catharsis and denouement – one build that does not falter in its foundations!
However, perhaps my favourite aspect of New Home is a certain character that doesn’t make an appearance on stage, but which rather shows itself to us auditorily: the ocean. From the beginning, O’Keefe fades in a soft maritime soundscape, and it persists throughout the entire show. When Peter finally recognises the ocean in the final moments of the play, he says that ‘it’s watching [him]’ – and it has been. The muse to this build and the swallower of its bones, the ocean is always there, pulsing in the background. A constant observer, omniscient, witness to the ebbs and flows of our little human lives.
I leave the Meat Market, and I feel as though I’ve had a laugh and learnt something all in one. This is a rare gift, and I applaud Five Bells Collective for their work. I cannot wait to see any future ‘renovations’ that might be had upon it!
Five Bells Collective’s New Home played September 30th – October 4th at Meat Market Crafts Room as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival.
GRYFF CONNAH (he/him) is an emerging, Naarm-based performer and theatre-maker who is currently studying a BFA in Theatre at VCA. His written, directed and devised works aim to disrupt the inertia that is imposed by capitalist hegemonies, and to explore environmental activism, stories of neurodivergence and disability, and queerness.
CHARLOTTE FRASER (she/her) is a writer, performer and student editor based in Melbourne. She holds a BA in English and Theatre Studies and is currently completing her Masters degree at the University of Melbourne.
The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre.
The Dialog 