THEATRE: 01 FEBRUARY 2019 By TONI CARROLL

The Big Time, by David Williamson | Directed by Mark Kilmurry

Ensemble Theatre (www.ensemble.com.au) | Ensemble Theatre, Kirribilli | Until 16 March

Sometimes I like to walk into a theatre blind, not knowing anything about the play. There’s a particular joy in sitting in a performance space as the lights go down, having absolutely no idea about what the other side of the darkeness holds or down which rabbit hole you will fall.

I played that game tonight and won.                                                                         

The Guest and I sat chatting as the house filled. The Ensemble is one of my old acting-school stomping grounds, so I was regaling her with stories about the three-hour sessions we would have in this very theatre, sessions that Hayes Gordon called ‘Koffee Klatches’. The man himself would take centre stage while we wanna-bes surrounded him on the pre-renovation old-style leather and wood seating, taking in as much as we could of the wisdom and experience that poured out of him.

I told her about an experience I had at another acting school, showing her a scar above my eye and telling her that a now-famous actor had a similar scar in a similar spot and that we’d spent four hours in hospital together getting them stitched up. The whole class had been playing British Bulldog as a warm-up before rehearsal for whatever show was in production at the time and, well, he and I had been either too clumsy or too competitive, maybe both.

All I will say is that his nickname was Daisy and he was never a diver in real life. That’s a hint, by the way.

Daisy was the funny-looking but brilliant young man who was the star of the cohort. His transformation as Azdak, the self-appointed judge in Caucasian Chalk Circle, was riveting, his ruffian in Berkoff’s East West was heart-thumpingly threatening. He was meant to play Hamlet at end of year but, in a decision that shocked the entire school, was given a minor role presumably because the lecturers thought he needed to be lopped a notch or two, ego-wise.

How could your ego not be pumped when your simmering talent was starting to boil over?

I then told The Guest how shocked I had been when Daisy landed the role of romantic lead in a Logie-award-winning contemporary drama. Not a soapie, but …. well, he belonged in the theatre where his amazing chameleon-like talent was given full flight! Where he was assured the respect, and the respectable accolades, he deserved!

I also saw a couple of people in the audience who reminded me of my time in my uni’s theatre group, and told The Guest about the swathe of those uni buddies who have gone on to become accomplished and sought-after script writers and editors in Aussie soapies and TV comedies and dramas.

Bear with me — there’s a point to recounting these tales of my past life to The Guest, who has never been a part of this life and was interested to hear about it. And this is it:

What unfolded during the next two hours was a story about — you won’t believe it (I certainly thought it was unbelievably coincidental) — a story about a soapie star who was the most talented in her year at NIDA, who seems to have settled for the fame and fortune of soapie-stardom.

Celia (Aileen Huynh) keeps in touch with her jobbing theatre actor friend, Vicki (Claudia Barrie), who persuades Celia that she’s sold out and needs to get back to the theatre to hone the talent that surely has been dulled through lack of use on the soapie.

Meanwhile, Celia’s partner Rohan (Jeremy Waters) is a scriptwriter who had his time in the sun 15 years earlier and is trying to regain his mojo. He’s schlepping a script around town but, as a has-been, he is as low in the pecking order as a wanna-be. The lowest, no matter how great their fame (and how big a money-making machine they were) in their hay day.

Perhaps I’d seen an advert or review about the play and my conscious mind had forgotten but my subconscious had remembered? I can’t explain the enormous coincidence of my pre-show tales and the play’s content. All I know is that what I saw unfold echoed my stories to The Guest and absolutely captured the industry as I have briefly experienced it and, more often, witnessed via others. Even down to a phrase I have heard my scriptwriter friends say over and over (often ironically): “It’s not a soap, it’s a continuous episodic drama!”

Williamson has his detractors, but no one can flaw his ability to insightfully observe and faithfully render the intricacies of social tribes and situations. Suburban politics, footie culture, soulless Sydney … when put under his microscope, society and human nature is dissected and analysed and its essence is presented to us in an easy-to-digest way.

In the case of The Big Time, Williamson uses the mainstream entertainment industry to explore loneliness, desperation, jealousy, ambition and betrayal.  “In the industry that creates fictional drama, the real life drama can be intense,” he writes in his program notes. All while carrying us along at a cracking pace and making us laugh. Director Mark Kilmurry points out that it also gives a “sense of hope, struggling to make itself heard over the noise of ego”.

Huynh, Barrie and Waters are competent — Barrie as the bitch friend who becomes more and more unlikable as the show progresses, Waters as the manically despondent has-been partner, angrily frustrated that he cannot make anyone let his light shine once more. Huynh is at times ineffectively low-key, but has moments of depth and intensity that are a reminder that this is not just a fluff piece.

I’ve been following the career of Matt Minto (Nate) over the last few years. He’s been a solid presence in the Old Fitz, Eternity and New Theatre, and it’s been wonderful watching him grow into his skin as an actor. Great to see him on the Ensemble stage holding his own as the realistic bombastic movie producer who epitomises the vagaries of the industry.

Ben Wood deserves a special mention as Rolly, Rowan’s school mate from their youth in a non-descript lower socio-economic outlying Sydney suburb. He’s a hilarious down-to-earth counterpoint to the ridiculous cut-throat world of entertainment.

Zoe Carides rounds out the cast, effortlessly embodying the role of jaded agent, Nelli, who’s seen it all.

Points also to set designer Melanie Liertz for creating a sparse but functional set that enables the onslaught of short, TV-like scenes (how appropriate!) to keep this a fast-paced night.

My only real criticism is that what starts as strong satire descends — perhaps purposefully — into soapie angst. But definitely a great night out.

And Daisy? Don’t worry about him. He’s done alright, despite — or perhaps because of — his foray into Aussie TV land.

Images: Brett Boardman.