“A stand-up, foot stomping, joyful rock experience. See it for Knox’s performance alone.“
Kate Stratford
4 desert songs
Venue
Extra
If you have not heard of the Warumpi Band, then you are not into Oz Rock or possibly you were not around in the 80s and 90s. One of Australia’s greatest rock bands, they sang of the country they loved and conflicts they endured in the languages of their people as well as in English. They toured the world and released albums, headlined with Midnight Oil, had Aria award nominations and are included in the National Film and Sound Archive’s Sounds of Australia collection.
Their story is not uncommon. A group of poor young men of humble origin find friendship and connection in their shared passion for music. They form a band, do the hard touring gig where they hone their talent and skill, rise to fame then are ripped apart by a yearning for home, artistic differences and personal disagreements. Sound familiar?
If this were all Big Name, No Blankets had to offer, then we may well be in dire straits. That it rises above the pedestrian is due to the skill of the writer and directors. Andrea James developed the story in collaboration with founding band member Sammy Butcher and the families of Warumpi Band members. Together, they used the music to shape the storyline.
So, the evolution of the music is as central to the plot line as the individuals who made up the band. The rather brilliant vision of co-directors Dr Rachael Maza and Anyupa Butcher makes it work. Ten years are successfully compressed into about 110 minutes. In lesser
hands the journey may have been mawkish or awkward.
On the set by Emily Barrie – which delivers both a sense of the Papunya desert and a rock stage – we meet founding member and narrator Sammy Butcher (Baykali Ganambarr), and his brothers Gordon (Teangi Knox) and Brian (Aaron McGrath). They listen to overseas rock and copy on improvised instruments. Chided and guided by their sister and beloved mother (Cassandra Williams, who plays all the women in the story), they then meet whitefella Neil (Jackson Peele) who has the gear. And is not too bad a songwriter. All they need is a great frontman. Enter Googoorewon Knox as George Burrawanga in a stunning, standout performance. Knox’s performance lifts the show’s energy and infuses the production with passion and professionalism. He is beguiling in this role, rousing the audience to an emotional participation as Burrawanga himself once did. His rendition of My Island Home, performed in language, is heartbreaking. His conflict with Jackson Peele’s Neil is rife with despair. The argument underscores cultural difference, despite years of being together.
More rock show than theatre, lighting and vision (Jenny Hector) come together to seamlessly take us on the journey from Pupanya to London to Redfern and back to the desert. The backup band does sterling work. Maza’s transitions are seamless, clever and metaphorical; the show would not hold together as well as it does without her tight, cohesive sense of what plays well and what will push the action forward. Towards the end, Sammy ponders if their music has had any impact and concludes that maybe it didn’t but for a while people listened and danced. Is this the musical we needed after the failed referendum? It is likely. After all, it was not until 1968 that First Nations people were recognised under law as human. Until then, they were listed as “fauna”. Is it political to present and see such a musical? Probably. But that is the function of theatre, surely, to entertain through the medium of communication and expression, to give voice to the lived experiences, aspirations, and concerns of humanity, particularly the oppressed sections of society. All theatre, as Dario Fo once said, is political.
A stand-up, foot stomping, joyful rock experience. See it for Knox’s performance alone.
Kate Stratford, Theatre Now
