” …exhilarating and unsettling …”
Fiona Hallenan-Barker
4.5 Stars
Venue: New Theatre
Newtown, Sydney
Dates: until 25th July
John Wyndham‘s The Day of the Triffids has always been more than a science-fiction thriller. First published in 1951, it is a cautionary tale about environmental exploitation, scientific hubris and the alarming fragility of civilisation. More than seventy years later, those anxieties have only intensified, making J. James-Moody‘s ambitious stage adaptation feel unexpectedly contemporary.
Presented in the bare surrounds of New Theatre, this production achieves something remarkable. Working within modest resources, James-Moody demonstrates that theatrical imagination remains infinitely more valuable than spectacle. His adaptation strips Wyndham’s sprawling novel back to its essential ideas while embracing the unique possibilities of live performance. The result is both exhilarating and unsettling: a staging that trusts its audience to complete the world through imagination rather than technology.
Framed as much by the conventions of radio drama as live theatre, The Day of the Triffids unfolds through an intricate interplay of voice, sound and light. Vintage microphones, live Foley effects and carefully orchestrated narration create a rich sonic landscape that frequently becomes the work’s primary storyteller. Rather than disguising theatrical artifice, James-Moody exposes it. Ropes, umbrellas and everyday stage machinery remain visible throughout, transforming before our eyes into the deadly Triffids. It is a reminder that suggestion often proves more frightening than realism.
That theatrical confidence extends to the piece’s visual language. Holly Nesbitt‘s lighting combines stark film noir shadows with vivid bursts of colour, creating images that feel simultaneously cinematic and unmistakably theatrical. Smoke, silhouette and carefully controlled darkness become essential storytelling tools, while projected archival-style botanical imagery evokes both Cold War Britain and contemporary ecological anxiety.
Equally nuanced is Aubtin Namdar‘s accomplished sound design. Rarely does contemporary theatre treat sound as such a complete dramatic language. Music, atmospheric effects, Foley artistry and the cadence of spoken text are woven into an almost operatic score, creating an immersive experience in which silence proves just as expressive as noise. The stage adaptation understands that what remains unheard can be every bit as terrifying as what is heard, particularly when the ominous movement of unseen Triffids interrupts moments of complete stillness.
The ensemble embraces the considerable technical demands of the production. Performing in an in-the-round configuration requires masterful precision as actors navigate near darkness before delivering emotionally truthful performances from every angle. James Collins provides an assured emotional anchor as Bill Masen, gradually guiding both himself and the audience through a world whose familiar structures have collapsed overnight. His gradual understanding unfolds with honesty and restraint, allowing the audience to discover the horrors of this new world alongside him naturally.
Max Ryan is sensational as Torrence, embodying authoritarian opportunism with unnerving physical and vocal presence. His performance reminds us that Wyndham’s greatest threat is not simply the monstrous plants but humanity’s willingness to exploit catastrophe for personal power. Natasha Todd‘s spirited Coker offers an effective counterbalance, bringing warmth, determination and a welcome sense of optimism to an increasingly bleak landscape. Tony Llewellyn-Jones lends authority and quiet gravity to several pivotal roles. His portrayal of the Doctor in the opening scenes establishes the existential dread that permeates the piece, with one shocking early action setting the emotional tone for everything that follows. Nathan Farrow‘s vocal work is equally compelling. Possessing the rich, reassuring cadence of a post-war BBC broadcaster, he effortlessly transports audiences into Wyndham’s Britain.
Claudia Elbourne displays impressive versatility across multiple roles, maintaining clarity and emotional specificity throughout. Umai Shantharajah‘s Josella Playton sits less comfortably within the evening’s predominantly naturalistic performance style. Although vocally accomplished, the heightened theatricality of her performance disrupts the emotional realism established elsewhere, diminishing the chemistry between Josella and Bill that is so central to the narrative’s emotional arc.
James-Moody wisely resists imposing a definitive ending. Instead, the production concludes with deliberate ambiguity, inviting audiences to wrestle with Wyndham’s questions rather than offering reassuring answers. It is an ending that lingers long after the lights fade, reinforcing the work’s central concern: civilisation may be more fragile than we care to admit. Ultimately, The Day of the Triffids succeeds because it embraces theatre’s oldest strengths. Through imaginative staging, exceptional technical design and a deeply committed ensemble, it transforms Wyndham’s classic novel into a work of genuine theatrical urgency. It is a reminder that compelling storytelling requires neither elaborate technology nor extravagant budgets, only artists with vision and audiences willing to meet them halfway.
The production deserves a life beyond this season. A transfer to a space such as Carriageworks would complement its industrial aesthetic, allowing the cavernous spaces and echoing silences to heighten the creeping sense of menace already so effectively realised at New Theatre. Equally, it seems destined to exist as a standalone radio drama. Given the accomplished achievements of Aubtin Namdar’s sound design and the company’s exceptional vocal work, a fully produced audio recording with its live Foley accompaniment would celebrate theatrical crafts that deserve renewed appreciation.
In the end, like all great dystopian works, The Day of the Triffids leaves us without easy hope. Instead, it leaves us asking uncomfortable questions about our own future. If today’s warnings about environmental collapse, technological acceleration and human greed continue to be ignored, Wyndham’s nightmare may prove less fiction than prophecy.
Perhaps we should all get to the theatre while we still can…
photos by Chris Lundie
Fiona Hallenan-Barker, Theatre Now
(4.5 glowing meteorites out of 5)
