the winning combination of actors and director make this a theatrical experience for our time.
Kate Stratford
4.5 pepperoni pizzas.


Green square pegs in beige round holes – or multi-coloured hexagonal pegs in dun square holes – or lovely pegs which look as though they should fit but don’t quite. Forcing unique pegs to fit universal sizing is to sadly deny the unique perspective each peg might give us. 

This is the underlying message of Alan Harris’ dark, surreal comedy – For the Grace of You Go I. Into this depiction of the struggle of some to deal with the supposedly normative world are woven criticisms of a culture which only pays lip service to accommodating the different; the pegs which don’t fit. A government scheme to integrate people suffering from mental illness into the workforce sees Jimmy (James Smithers) employed to place pepperoni slices onto pizzas. Jimmy begins to send messages and images on the pizzas. This does not fit the schematic, much to the anguish of the scheme initiator Irina (Jane Angharad) who is struggling with anxiety as she attempts to fit in to the corporate world and deal with the truth. The scheme does not have a name. It was never intended to be a permanent fixture. It was corporate box ticking. The guy who runs the company is a master of twitter – he is able to say that they ran a scheme therefore he supports the mentally ill.

At home, Irina’s partner Mark (Shan-Ree Tan) is also suffering but we are not given a clear indication of his diagnosis and this is important. For people who suffer from mental illness are often mis-diagnosed or live without diagnosis and Harris is leading the audience to this understanding through the dichotomy of intense comparison. We can sympathise with Jimmy because we are in his brain. We cannot extend the same feeling to Mark because we are not in his brain, we are forced to be outside his world. So his decision, despite the Chekhovian set-ups and how cleverly it is devised, still comes as something of a surprise.

Harris’ play demands complete trust from the audience, whose presence Jimmy periodically acknowledges. His life is, after all, a movie directed by someone in his head. To have any hope of understanding what life is like for Jimmy, to not be the outsider looking in, we have to let go completely and simply “be” in his world. It is always Jimmy’s space, even when locations change. Smithers owns this character, inhabiting him so completely and empathetically that we are eased into handing him our trust. The other two in this remarable trifecta, Angharad and Tan, also bring their A-game. The emotional and physical truths inherent in their performances are testaments to their abilities. No surprises there – these three are some of the best actors on the Sydney scene.  Each character is connected to the other in the real world but although all three interact, they never connect in the true sense, even in their most desperate moments; and this is clearly played out. 

Likewise, no surprises in the directing by the accomplished Lucy Clements. Clements always brings a comprehensive, innovative perspective to the work she undertakes. And in this instance, tone and style had to be manipulated to fit a script whose technical demands were challenging in a small space. A director needs a team who gets the vision, and Monique Langford and Kate Ingram’s set comprises a green screen paralleling Jimmy’s mind with the make-believe of the movies.   A green screen is a lonely, bleak place to be and work– ask Ian McKellan who felt so alone and frustrated with the use of a green screen that he shouted, “This is not why I became an actor.” And then broke down and cried.  Jimmy might well shout about his disconnection to humanity; but he doesn’t. He just struggles with living it.  Delicate lighting by Alice Stafford and subtle music by Sam Cheng underpin Jimmy’s illusory, lonely world.

My plus 1 commented as we left that despite being a vegetarian they would love to order one of Jimmy’s pizzas – and would pay for the privilege.

Yes, another mental illness play but the perspective is unique and whilst not an easy play, the winning combination of actors and director make this a theatrical experience for our time. 

Kate Stratford, Theatre Now