Felicity’s Score: 3.5 Fake Orgasms
Back in the local! New Theatre! The hustle and bustle of their small lobby gives each show this thrilling undertone – this feel of exclusivity and importance. I rush to the front row, having drank a rose. I know, no G&T…we’re getting to the point that it’s mentioned when not in hand. To be fair, it had been such a long day that I accidentally asked for a bottle of rose and not a glass, so maybe it’s good I steered clear of spirits.
This Bitter Earth is an anthology of queer stories in modern Australia and it has had some interesting marketing. I know it’s not technically a part of the show but it contributes to the experience. Phallic vegetables and a conversation heard in the lobby ‘what’s this play about?’ ‘I don’t know…all I know is that it’s very gay’ are what fuel my fascination as we sit down. Matthew Predney is already on stage, dancing away. It’s times like this I can’t help but be distracted from my conversation, always waiting to catch the cast member in a moment of exhaustion or boredom in their forced theatrical foreplay. No luck though, Predney keeps it up until he opens with a monologue.
The opening monologue, like some other parts of the show, drags on a little long in the middle (like a very extended scene change right in the middle…sure all but one of the cast members was in the following scene, but there’s only so long you can shine a light in our eyes before the audience are crying from pain or confusion (or both)). I think perhaps characterisation or, getting the joke in, are prioritised at the cost of concise and momentous storytelling.
Overall, there’s laughs and truths in Edwards’ play. The bleak reality of our imperfect LGBTQIA+ community invites us in for a dark laugh. I (excuse the French) freaking loved Ariadne Sgouros in ‘What The Butler Saw’ at the New last year, and was delighted to watch her again. She brought a grounded reality to the show with her idiosyncratic humour and the same great timing that brought delight to the farcical show I saw in 2018. Matthew Predney and Elle Mickel are also standouts for me. At the risk of listing literally the entire cast, Mitchell Bourke, Michael Cameron, and Sasha Simon also round off the ensemble nicely. Director Riley Spadaro creates really nice pictures in the show, I kept wanting to take a photo. While it all looked good, at times the emotional journey doesn’t track for me. The final scene featuring the entire ensemble is my favourite – the slew of voices making nice use of the confusion of finding your identity in a world that wants to hide it from you – or at least make you feel too ashamed to claim it.
The play feels young, and really embraces that. It does mean at times it’s clunky, or awkward, or too much (I’m talking to you, scene-where-everyone-talks-over-each-other-for-a-little-too-long). But that’s life, and there’s undeniable moments of endearment… I mean…you can’t be mad at ‘My Heart Will Go On’ blaring at the climax of five fake orgasms…can you?
Felicity Anderson – Theatre Now
This Bitter Earth
Chris Edwards
11 – 27 July
Previews Thu 11 & Fri 12 July 7:30pm
Opening Night Sat 13 July 7:30pm
Wed – Sat 7:30pm
Sun 5pm
Sat 27 Jul 2pm only
Venue: New Theatre
Theatre Company: New Theatre
Duration: N/A
WORLD PREMIERE
“I’m just saying, a little lube goes a long way”
Being a 20-something queer is hard. Being a 20-something queer living in Sydney is… something else, I guess.
Dating apps, capitalist nightmares, a rental market we’re not invited to and a semi-constant state of existential terror – look, we’ve only got 12 years until climate catastrophe, might as well flail around in a spin class and buy a reusable straw.
An unstitched patchwork of queer lives in queer times, This Bitter Earth looks at how we fight, bitch, love, confront despair and try to connect, all through the mess and the muck and the might of everyday queer existence.
It’s vicious, it’s tender, it hates being touched but it kinda needs a hug. It’s an anthology of millennial crises, from drunken wine nights in dirty hostels to desolate wastelands at the end of time.
And it’s gay.
Really gay.
New Theatre is thrilled to be presenting the world premiere of this new Australian queer work, which initially developed by the writer as his major work while completing the Masters of Writing for Performance at NIDA in 2018.
CREATIVE TEAM
Cast: Mitchell Bourke, Michael Cameron, Elle Mickel
Matthew Prendy, Ariadne Sgouros, Sasha Simon
Director Riley Spadaro
Set & Costume Designer Grace Deacon
Lighting Designer Phoebe Pilcher
Composer & Sound Designer Jessica Dunn
Production Manager Jens Radda
Stage Manager Caroline McAllister
Cast: Ariadne Sgouros, Matthew Prendy, Mitchell Bourke, Michael Cameron, Elle Mickel and Sasha Simon.
Ticket Prices
Full $35
Concession, Groups (6+) $30
New Theatre Members $22 (with promo code)
Previews, Thrifty Thursdays $20
