“It might not be the slickest play you see this summer, but it will be the most important.“
Gary Nunn
3 Stars
Seymour Centre: Reginald Theatre
until 4 March
We’re transported back to Australia in the 1970s, a place that feels so dystopian, this play almost feels like sci-fi.
It packs a punch from the outset to know that this world – a time when consenting sex between adult men was illegal, and lesbian and gay people were treated as mentally ill (at best) or murdered (at worst), and attempted to be ‘cured’ by electroshock therapy – was in living memory for many.
Jo (Tamara Natt) has witnessed these very ‘cure therapies’ in her job, which politicises her and leads her to Krissy (Jane Phegan), an activist, a lesbian and a commune dweller. When non-political 19-year-old Tracey (Lou McInnes) joins the commune at love interest Jo’s request, Krissy is dubious, and a love triangle is formed. Later, they reflect on how far they’ve come by writing a book detailing their early activism.
Outraged at the daily injustices, the activists form CAMP (Campaign Against Moral Persecution) and go on rallies against police harassment, eventually culminating in the first Mardi Gras. In between they’re writing newsletters and doing media appearances, even those this could endanger their careers, their relationships and even their lives in such a hostile time.
Gender dynamics play their part – women within the organisation claim the men talk over them, and a battle as to who’ll front the media ensues. A master stroke of playwright Elias Jamieson Brown is to make all the characters female except for one, Dave (Adriano Cappelletta). It feels like we’re watching actual untold history spoken from the female gaze, reclaiming the voices of lesbian women which all too often get drowned out by men’s version of LGBTQI history.
An extremely powerful moment happens when all 53 of those ‘named and shamed’ by the Sydney Morning Herald for marching and protesting at a time when to come out was professional – and potentially actual – suicide, are simply read out, one by one, by each different character, transforming the ‘shame’ they were expected to feel into this gentle bestowing of hero status. This simple theatrical act of naming them used an identical tactic as the newspaper, but restored their names to glory, in recognition of their courage, determination and vision of freedom which has come very close to being realised for many, if not all. It sent shivers through me.
There are familiar names of people who were metres away at the biggest ever Fair Day, in a tent, telling these very same stories to the upcoming generation of baby gays, in the hope such appalling treatment would never happen again.
What the play lacks in flow – there’s some stiltedness between some lines, characters and scenes – it makes up for in historical importance and authenticity – ‘78er and CAMP NSW Secretary Robyn Kennedy is the Associate Producer.
As LGBTQI people in NSW increasingly report hostile police officers targeting gay bars with sniffer dogs and harassing innocent puters who’ve come to a safe haven to be themselves, and a consistent move by a minority of Mardi Gras board members to ban police form the march itself gathers steam, this historical, educational play about real life events reminds us how valuable, and how reversible, hard-fought wins are.
It might not be the slickest play you see this summer, but it will be the most important.
Gary Nunn, Theatre Now
