“What responsibility do we all bear for the violence of our boys and men, and how far empathy can truly reach?”
Julia Newbould
3.5 Stars
Venue: KXT
Sydney
Dates: Until March 21
What is a monster and how is one created? This is the central question in Tiny Dog’s recent production Monster at KXT.
Duncan McMillan’s play set in Manchester in the early 2000s centres on Darryl, a 14-year-old schoolboy who has been turfed from his classes for violence against another student.
He is out of control. His mother has killed herself. He lives with his grandmother and he’s still wetting the bed.
There’s a lot to unpack. He’s been provided a special teaching aide to support him in his banishment from class. He refuses to submit to lessons, taunting the teacher with personal and intrusive questions, mocking him for his “fake” blackness and generally disrespecting him and his position.
Campbell Parsons perfectly inhabits the role of Darryl, with an Ali G, rude boy-style MLE accent. His slouching, his fidgeting, his rudeness, and his irritating nature are so very recognisable. Young boys have many of those habits although in Darryl, it’s all much more extreme. There are moments of humour for some of the audience, but for others it’s pure irritation and annoyance towards a character so very real and perhaps triggering. It’s testament to Parsons that he can evoke such complex emtions in the audience. And later when the tone shifts from interaction between teacher and student, Parsons is absolutely terrifying. The small theatre could barely contain the power of his rage and menace.
Darryl is a very well-drawn character by McMillan, as is his teacher Tom (played by Tony J Black). Tom has his own struggles. He has left his previous position under a cloud; there are hints of violence caused by excess stress. He is trying to repent through assisting Darryl, but it’s not so easy. Tom is taunted by Darryl until he eventually loses it – and lets his own monster loose.
But while Darryl is unable to take responsibility for his behaviour, Tom immediately regrets his and apologises.
Tom later says about Darryl, “He’s got zero empathy. You could be having a conversation and start choking to death and he’d just think, ‘Well, this conversation’s over. He’d probably just sit there and finish eating whatever you were choking on.” It’s a great line, but a frightening condemnation of the teenager’s character.
Darryl’s grandmother Rita (Linda Nicholls-Gidley) loves Darryl but cannot control him and will not hold him responsible for his behaviour. She blames the school, the teachers and the trauma of finding his mother dead. She never blames Darryl. She doesn’t believe there is a problem – he’s just another 14-year-old boy to her. Nicholls-Gidley plays Rita as physically present but emotionally removed. She’s not warm, she’s not loving, and this is integral to explaining Darryl in part – possibly even why her daughter suicided. Rita fights the school because she thinks she has to, not because she loves him or wants the best for him. It’s a nuanced portrayal and Nicholls-Gidley captures her very well.
Rounding out the cast is Jodi (Romney Hamilton) as Tom’s wife. She is struggling with her relationship with Tom; feeling ignored while Tom focuses on helping his student. She eventually loses it with Darryl and says the things that Tom won’t – monstrous things that reveal both her fear and her emotional weakness as a person.
It’s a challenging and intense play with lots of important and timely themes – mental health and the way society handles it; who bears responsibility; and where is empathy most needed and deserved. What responsibility do we all bear for the violence of our boys and men, and how far empathy can truly reach?
In the end we empathise with all the characters – they are all facing their own struggles and monsters. But, as in life, some are easier to feel empathy for.
Three and a half lessons
Julia Newbould, Theatre Now
