Little Black Bastard

I had no idea who Noel Tovey was when I went to see Little Black Bastard at La Mama Courthouse, but by the time his almost two-hour one-man show had concluded, I felt as though I knew him personally. With startling courage and admirable dignity, he opened himself up to the audience, presenting the most intimate details of his childhood and adolescence. These ran the gamut from tawdry and disturbing to utterly heartbreaking, all delivered with a heartfelt sincerity and emotional depth.

At 81 years of age, hobbling around the stage with the aid of a walking frame and artificial leg, Mr Tovey captivated the audience with tales of his early life: his drunken mother and protective sister, the horrific poverty and casual racism he endured, the shocking sexual abuse committed against him by adults in positions of trust. Much of this was pretty harrowing stuff, and there were people in the audience crying. But we all understood the importance of Mr Tovey standing up and speaking out, telling it the way it was, and is.

It was a long piece, and Mr Tovey looked to be understandably weary by the end. Hard work it may have been, but well worth doing, and seeing. Mr Tovey’s stories evoke a different Melbourne, from a time long past, along with attitudes and behaviours that we may hope have been consigned to history, but which are more than likely still with us, still hidden by society’s same old hypocrisy. Stories like Mr Tovey’s are not often said out loud, which is precisely why they’re so valuable and important for us to hear.

Alex Paige