“Funny, profound, poignant. It breaks the heart, just a little”
Kate Stratford
4.5 Stars
Venue : Ensemble Theatre
Kirribilli, Sydney
Dates: Until 25th July
Dapto is a flat, dusty outlier town south of Wollongong. Decades ago, it was known in the Illawarra for two things – the Dapto Dogs, and for being the sort of suburb where you wind up the car windows and drive though quickly. Poverty paints the landscape there with unkempt yards and façades of fibro and weatherboard houses where despair and hope jostle for dominance on a daily basis. The bitterness of poverty can be tasted at the back of your throat. There is a Dapto somewhere in every suburban sprawl.
Mary Rachel Brown’s The Dapto Chaser places us firmly in the middle of the town, in the tired loungeroom of the Sinclair family. Mum died years ago, leaving Dad Errol to raise two sons – Jimmy and Cess. “Raise” is a loose term here. They survived Errol’s careless care and have learnt to pin any hope of escape on winning at the dog track. The Dapto Dogs. The track shapes life providing employment, entertainment and ambition. Cess, in particular, dreams of his greyhound winning $75,000 at the Winnebago Stakes. You just know that hope is doomed. People such as the Sinclairs never win. Brown’s control of the narrative here is magnificent – actively shaping our understanding of the characters and their situation by framing the story on their terms. Context is immediately established, the rules of engagement are set, and the dramatic arc swiftly engages us. It is some of the best Australian writing, quite Miller-esque in its own way. Brown writes of this Australian underclass with such love and care, not apologising or patronising but embracing their authenticity, humour and tragedy.
For The Dapto Chaser is a modern tragedy of the common man. The struggle extends beyond the family dynamics of Sinclair family circle and broaches questions of identity and success that trouble all of us. Director Anna Houston and her cast – Peter Carroll (as dad Errol Sinclair), Andre de Vanny (son Jimmy), Justin Rosniak (as Cess) and Marco Chiappi as insider/outsider Arnold Denny treat the play and its characters with gentle care and respect. Many of us know these people outside the confines of poverty. So perhaps the play should come with a warning. Carroll’s Dad Errol is the quintessential parent (or grandparent) who constantly criticises one dutiful child whilst praising the absentee favourite. Ruling his cluttered one-room kingdom from his recliner, he tyrannically berates his subjects(s). The dutiful child is the unfavoured Jimmy; mastered in de Vanny’ s very defeated posture and vocals of the supplicant, seeking affirmation. Rosniak’s swaggering Cess is the favoured sibling with the distorted, inflated view of himself; believing that the rules don’t apply to him and luxuriating in his favouritism. With a chest puffed, and a thrust jaw, his is a constant challenge to life. Against them is set Chiappi’s narcissistic Denny. Achieving financial success, he is still haunted by the sense of lack of control imposed by poverty and bullies those around him as an effort to establish status.
This is an ensemble effort in the very best sense. Each performance individually is excellent; but the actors also build substantial, sustained, real relationships on stage. There is an intimate understanding of each other. Characters are deeply embedded in these actors; they know what will press buttons, what will garner a reaction. The relationship between the brothers in particular speaks of years of the bond that sibling-sharing of a bedroom brings. Underneath the squabbling is love, never spoken of, just showing up when it counts.
The dialogue is fast and funny and very much second-nature. The language of these men is colourful, laced with unlikely metaphors and similes, swift barbs and ironic observations which have their own musicality. This is the one space in which they are rich. It is the language of the ocker, the larrikin and Houston’s direction here is sharp and punchy, never letting cast or audience off the hook. It could be said that Houston and Brown make quite the dynamic duo. Perhaps it takes two women to clearly observe the nature of men’s relationships.
Simone Romaniuk’s design curates time, place, income and character in their essence. We know the nature of each character as soon as they set foot on stage. Jimmy’s synthetic, over-sized zip-up jacket and baggy-bum pants underscore his awkwardness and position in the family hierarchy. Cess’ faded, ill-fitting jeans, flannelette shirts and bomber jacket are not aspirational grunge but possibly sourced at Lowes as the uniform of his peers at the dog track. The razor is not a fashion tool. Errol’s polo shirt and pants are, paradoxically, both shiny and dull with age. Even Arnold Denny, for all his new-found money, has only stepped from Kmart to Target. Never mind the quality, feel the width and affordability.
Romaniuk has also had to design a set which can be imposed upon the concurrent production of Roommates. A challenge (and a lot of work) for stage managers and lighting and sound designers, methinks. Matt Cox and Madeleine Picard step up here. The races swirl about on the living room walls, the race call comes god-like from above; this is the universe of these punters after all.
Interesting that Ensemble has chosen to run two plays over one slot in the same space. This is normally a practice we see in Fringe, and this isn’t Fringe season. Perhaps a response to cost of living and a way to maximize theatre usage and return on investment. When we are seeing large productions being cancelled on feels like a weekly basis, it may be an answer. Box office receipts will tell.
At the end, Houston leaves us with a very clear image of the cyclic nature of poverty. Where we began with Errol we end with Cess.
Funny, profound, poignant. It breaks the heart, just a little.
Worn wallets out and get tix to this one.
photography by Prudence Upton
Kate Stratford, Theatre Now
