A Property of the Clan

What an appropriate time to mount a new production of Nick Enright’s 1994 cathartic play based around the rape and murder of a 15-year-old Newcastle schoolgirl. And this hard-hitting production from Blood Moon Theatre means the play loses none of the original power – in fact its messages are even more poignant in 2015.

Covering many aspects of violence toward women this short, forthright piece of theatre is a fine example of Enright’s rare insight and intuitive ability to get his messages across via real characters in language that is raw, economic and uncompromising blunt.

The style and the frugality of the script demands a juxtaposition of fast pace and touching introspection, as the actors depict the same gamut of emotional reactions that  we hear and read about far too often in news reports today: defiance, horror, sorrow, disbelief, grief, shame, self-reproach, denial ….  This is a big ask for actors especially as this cast of four is required to play eight different characters. But it is one that theyt undertake with astute skill, honest characterisation and lively pace.

Megan Drury is excellent as both single mother Diane and high-scrupled schoolgirl, Rachel. Drury finds the truth and depth of both characters in carefully controlled reactions, beautifully timed delivery – and emotional veracity. Her sensitive portrayal of Diane’s love and understanding of both her anxious daughter and troubled son makes the most of Enright’s perceptive dialogue. As Rachel she typifies every voice that calls even more loudly today for realisation, acceptance and attitudinal change.

George Banders plays Jared: Diane’s son, Rachel’s boyfriend. Though he sees himself as  ‘one of the boys’, he is more sensitive that he admits. Banders shows these two sides of Jared in a clear, intelligent portrayal that finds all the angst and insecurity as well as the frailty of mid-adolescence.

Jack Starkey plays the juxtaposed characters of tough, ‘leader of the pack’ surfer, Brett Ricketson – and Glenn, mild-mannered editor of the student newspaper. Starkey contrasts Ricko’s loud, self-confident, assertiveness and brash nerve with a soft depiction of the gentle Glenn. Playing such contrasting characters is not easy, but Starkey does it with effective aplomb.

Samantha Young has the unenviable task of depicting a grieving 14 year old – and she does so with heart-warming clarity. It is there in her expressive eyes, the gentle variation of her voice, the awkward realisation of her own vulnerability. Young also plays two other roles with similar skill.

In such a small space, the actors are uncomfortably close to the audience but this works exceptionally well for such an emotionally charged play. No one can escape the characters and the trauma of their messages. And though the decision to use a paint-spattered backdrop certainly portrayed the turmoil of the situation, the continual painting and cleaning became a distraction at times when the writing and the acting were sufficient in themselves.

This is a powerful production of one of Enright’s most perspicacious plays – and one that should reach a much wider audience than this small space allows and this cast and its director deserves.

Carol Wimmer

PREVIEW AND BUY THE SCRIPT HERE.