Belvoir St Theatre
until March 30
Bookings: (02) 9699 3444

Kate Mulvany has said that she found her way into writing at a young age by changing the endings of Little Golden Books.

I think most readers could relate to that, surely having cheerfully imagined the grisly demise of an evil queen at some time or other. While The Seed, Mulvany’s tenth play, happens to be set in a land far, far away, it is inspired by something very close to home: her experience of her father’s trauma due to exposure to Agent Orange in the Vietnam War. 

I remember well taking in the debut production of this play last July in the 80-seat downstairs theatre. I remember where I sat and who I took with me.

I remember being fully drawn into the story of light-fingered Rose and her dad Danny, who has managed to survive an Irish Catholic childhood as well as a terrible war and their reunion with Danny’s father Brian, a shameless bully, in his claustrophobic dwelling in Nottingham, England.

I remember laughing out loud at Brian’s outrageous bigotry, which reminded me of my own great grandmother, and I remember being deeply moved when at the end a chasm is bridged so father and daughter can move on with their lives.

It was a terrific experience and deservedly won the best independent production gong at this year’s Sydney Theatre Awards. I would like to write it has got even better in this second outing in the larger upstairs space but I can’t help feeling an opportunity has been missed here.

Mulvany’s play still takes you to dark places accompanied by unsettling humour, which is wonderful, but the intimacy of the original production has gone. It’s all good to make use of this lovely space to explore metaphors of war, but the play is dangerous and involving for the audience because each of the characters is dealing with how they face their own foe.

Downstairs, I felt I was in the room with the characters; upstairs I was sitting in row G and the actors seemed miles away. It doesn’t help that the action is played out on a postage-stamp-size raised platform, which appears a lazy recreation of the downstairs set. I could sense a restless audience trying to find a way into the play but when they got there, they stayed.

The play remains a beautiful homage to Kate’s dad and his sacrifice, and a horrifying reminder that it’s happening all over again.

Comments (0)

Subscribe to this comment's feed

Title
Comment	smaller | bigger
Name
Email
Website
Write the displayed characters
Subscribe via email (Registered users only) I have read and agree to the Terms of Usage.
	Add Comment