As we walk into BackDock Arts, Fortitude Valley, the stage is bare, the actors are waiting for the audience, sitting in a row of folding plastic chairs.
It looks exactly like a typical rehearsal space. Their personal items tucked behind their seats, scripts in hand, on their lap or on the bi-fold trestle table. We sit down and chat amongst ourselves, feeling a bit awkward as we throw sideways glances at the actors, wondering when the show will start.
And eventually, without prompt, the audience quietens and our collective attention focuses on the stage. The lights dim and a man approaches the stage to voice an acknowledgment of Country and the aboriginal community:
“The Reaction Theory would like to acknowledge the Jagera and Turrbal People as the traditional custodians of the lands where we live, work and have the privilege to continue the tradition of storytelling that has been sowed for thousands of years. We pay our respect to their Elders past and present and recognise that we are living on unceded lands. Always was and always will be.”
The audience applauds and the show starts. A woman, played by Alison Telfer McDonald, stands up from her chair and introduces the night’s reading of the draft script of ‘The Unspoken Word Is Joe’ by Zoey Dawson.
The “Woman Who Reads The Stage Directions” as she is called on the cast sheet starts rambling about herself when she’s supposed to introduce the playwright and move on to the play itself. She over-shares with us about her own personal anecdotes, as well as some of poor Zoey's, who eventually cuts her off and gets the reading started, but not before betraying her own anxious nerves and anticipation.
The reading finally starts, but it is soon derailed by “Man 1”, i.e. Zoey’s boyfriend followed by Zoey herself who derails her own play even further as she starts drinking from a bottle, flirting with “Man 2” and openly criticizing and belittling “Woman 2” to make herself feel better, and not even behind the poor girl’s back. It all goes downhill from there, full blown multi-casualties trainwreck.
We do not know what to do between laughing out loud and sitting uncomfortably in awkward silence. Is this real? Or is this scripted? We settle with scripted, as straight away, everyone is “off-script” and “real life” quarrels and insecurities unravel.
It all seems so real and cringely awkward like when a sex scene comes on during movie night with parents. It gets uncomfortable and yet we cannot look away. And then we are reminded that it is scripted and we allow ourselves to laugh and enjoy the show.
Each character is a spot-on caricature, while still being fondly relatable. We have the attention seeking director who shows great friendship and empathy towards poor trainwreck Zoey, in the “Woman Who Reads The Stage Directions” (Alison Telfer McDonald). Of course, we have the tortured, manic and would-be soulful playwright who wrote the lead character to be played by herself but who, despite this lack of taste, cares a lot about the play and genuineness she’s put in her work, and who obviously doesn’t know how to navigate her feelings in her relationships, in “Zoey Dawson” (Rachel Nutchey).
Then we have her “I’ve had enough” boyfriend swiftly turned ex, who despite his frustrated outburst seems to deeply care for Zoey, in “Man 1” (Ethan Lewis). We also have the unsubtle overacting actress, who sweetly tries to keep the show going and by-way showcasing her performance range in “Woman 2” (Mackenzie Curtis). And finally we have the unsuspecting actor, who seems to be unaware of the existing tensions his co-stars harbour for each other, until he becomes the target of Zoey’s desperate advances in “Man 2” (Alex Kaan).
Clichés and drama came to the date tonight. And we are loving it.
There is a lot of breakage. Broken hearts, broken props. Breaking character, going off-book. Breaking the fourth wall, casting ugly truths onto the audience. Breaking pretty much all unspoken rules of theatre. All of the above, check.
This play is a perfect example of metafiction and its subgenres. A metafiction, in case you, like me, were not aware of the term, is a work where the attention of the readers or the viewers is directed to the process of fictive composition. The most obvious example of a metafictive work is a novel about a novelist writing a novel, with the protagonist sharing the name of the author or playwright.
Here, it is even more than that… It has brilliantly become a meta-satire. Zoey Dawson uses self-referential humour, irony, character and situational exaggerations, and even ridicule to shine a truthful light on the realities of relationships (in general, not only romantic ones) and the harsh environment of the entertainment industries. I loved being hit in the face with the louder-than-life pointing fingers to the issues at hand, and then spotting the more subtle ones, especially the nods to the theatre industry (which, to me, resonated as a respectful “Fuck you. This is me, raw, real and ugly. Deal with it!”).
As artists, when we put something out there, it is a part of ourselves that we are uncovering in front of strangers. Strangers who are eager to be entertained, enlightened, distracted from their everyday lives. These expectations are hard to please... The saying "We can't please everyone" is especially true here. It is a tough industry, not only because we don't always get the part, or get approved for the rights, or get enough people to come and pay for the show, or, or, or… So many or this or that. But it is especially a tough industry because that part of ourselves that we put out there in the harsh scrutinising world, is not often acknowledged and appreciated. On the contrary, it is often rejected and criticised. It is such a roll of the dice. You think you have created something beautiful (and more often than not, it is indeed beautiful). But whether it is or not, you are not in control of its success. Anything can happen to break it or make it.
And in the play, everything that could have gone wrong, has.
We are even shown some harsh truths about being a woman in the industry, and in this world - without being an in-your-face feminist litany. Showing emotion and being sentimental are seen as being weak, not to be taken seriously. It is even seen as being unprofessional! Dawson shows this struggle, subtly, by writing her namesake character as a person, who despite her best efforts to keep herself together and professional during the first reading of her play (can we acknowledge how courageous it is for anyone out there to publish/produce anything??) in front of a live audience (the stakes are sky high, my dudes), crumbles to an emotional mess and kind of keeps her audience hostage until every last word has been spoken.
As we leave the theatre, it feels like we are stepping back into reality, but like we had never really left it.
A must-see if Reaction Theory puts on another performance in the future, a must-read if not. Both The Drama Merchant & myself agree that the production team of Reaction Theory & director Ruby Sanders brilliantly executed and produced a worthy night's entertainment and recommend that you, the reader, keep an eye out for their next production, to see if it is your cup of tea.
Written by Julia Mesrobian with The Drama Merchant
To find out more about Reaction Theory's future productions click here
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