THE SECRET RIVER – Lieder Theatre Company
The Secret River, the latest production by the Lieder Theatre Company, will move you, will make you consider uncomfortable truths, will make you think and will stick with you long after you see it.
It is a powerful piece of theatre that examines a portion of Australia’s history that is poorly documented and even less spoken about, and transports the audience to the period it is set in.
The Secret River is referred to as a work of fiction, but it’s fiction in the same way that a war story about a soldier on the Western Front of the first World War, built from pains-taking research and informed by true anecdotes and recollections, is fiction.
It is a play with a phenomenal pedigree and comes from two of Australian’s most renowned writers, from the book by revered writer and novelist Kate Grenville, adapted to a play by Andrew Bovell, some of whose works have recently been performed for Goulburn audiences by Bladwell Productions.
Set in the early 19th century, it tells the story of former convict, now a man with a ticket of leave and a full pardon, Will Thornhill, his wife Sal and their children Willie and Dick. Having heard that a man can just find some space and own it simply by calling it his own and working the land, he sets off for the boundary between European white man and Indigenous people, the Hawkesbury River.
The plot and the key characters
Will, who’d operated boats on the Thames before his conviction and transportation, thought to transport goods along the Hawkesbury and down to Sydney to supplement a farm living. Sal wants to give this “adventure” no more than five years by which time they’ll have saved enough to return to England. Will agrees to that, but with his fingers crossed, intending to stay and make something of himself.
But of course, the land isn’t empty and up for grabs to whoever claims it. Already living on the land were Indigenous families and groups who’d been there for generations. And that’s the plot.
Will Thornhill, played empathetically by Josh Waters, appears in many respects to be a decent man, struggling to figure out his path in life. He finds that his path sits someone in between the influences of Smasher Sullivan, a racist and malignant miscreant played menacingly by Martin Sanders, and the much more enlightened and virtuous Thomas Blackwood, played almost paternally by Ryan Paranthoiene.
In fact, Will Thornhill is at the centre of many of the play’s conflicts: with his wife about making roots in Australia or returning to England in five years; with former acquaintance Dan Oldfield (Blake Selmes) above whom he has assumed the self-importance of the recently paroled; with the indigenous inhabitants about their rights to co-exist or exist at all in this place; and with Smasher Sullivan on how to treat indigenous people.
Josh Waters has a great facility for playing an everyman imbuing this role with an immediacy for audiences to confront his issues in real time as he does, and consider what they would do. His pairing with his wife Amanda Waters as Sal Thornhill is a gift as their dramatic shorthand delivers pitch perfect familial discussions and arguments. There is genuine passion when they kiss, and when they disagree.
Amanda, as Sal, shows a steel and courage and, despite her commitment to supporting her husband, does not like the changes she sees in Will and eventually offers an ultimatum.
Two of the leading indigenous characters, Yalamundi and Buryia, played by Peter Swain and Muffy Hedges respectively, provide a foil as dignified, sometimes confused, sometimes joyous but never aggressive elders of the Dharug people.
Framing the story
But for all of the information on the written page, the framing of the story is key to this production.
Visually, the set renders a truly authentic look of the Australian Bush which, supplemented by the soundscape of bush sounds, strongly resonates and transports anyone who has spent any night time outdoors in Australia. This is crucial to suspend disbelief and place the audience in situ, in that place at that time, and not simply reflecting on the past. By making it real, the experience is more real and the lighting and other effects also successfully dramatise significant moments.
A second key element in framing the story is the use of the Dharug language by the actors playing First Nations people. Unlike a movie or television show that adds captions at the bottom of the screen, there is only the spoken word and for the vast majority of the audience that doesn’t speak the Dharug language, this not only adds authenticity but the realism of communication difficulty.
And a third key element of framing is the use of the narrator. Alfie Walker, as the narrator Dhirrumbin and embodiment of the Hawkesbury River, provides key bits of exposition and detail that helps connect some of the unspoken aspects of the story. While the narrator exists in the script, the casting of Alfie is sublime and his emotional connection to the storytelling is genuine, unrestricted and poignant.
Within this context, Will Thornhill faces the ethical call to action many literary characters have faced: “For evil to succeed, all that is required is for good men to do nothing.” Doing nothing is not the same as doing good. So what does he do? The play indirectly suggests that the modifier “casual” is meaningless when placed in front of the words racism or cruelty, when the end results are still devastating.
There is a powerful conclusion that I guess you can sense was a possibility, but which punches you in the gut when it comes. And when Alfie, as narrator, was moved to genuine tears recounting events, I was right there with him.
The production
This is a massive ensemble production with a cast of some of Goulburn’s most experienced actors, many of them in smaller parts, lining up to be part of this important piece. There is not a weak performance among them and while I’ve named some and would like to name them all, I was especially impressed by the many young actors who didn’t fall prey to the temptation to briefly break character and look around or be distracted, but were genuinely in the part, in the moment at all times alongside the more experienced members.
This production was directed by Chrisjohn Hancock, now in (semi?)-retirement from directing and able to pick and choose the shows he particularly wants to do. He has chosen particularly well with this piece. It is moving and poignant and while it’s not the job of theatre to educate or be worthy, this performance achieves both. Chrisjohn’s artistic choices in this production elevate the already thought-provoking material and his renowned ability to evoke emotions, to elicit amazing performances, and to leave people affected in a lasting way by a performance is undiminished.
The success of the production is the sum of the work of all of the creatives involved including wardrobe, soundscape, lighting, construction and many others.
It is particularly apropos that this production take place in a year in which the very thought of a purely consultative indigenous body has been met with fear and suspicion by many. Secret River gives a Voice to the stories of a past that we too seldom share and acknowledge… not taking on blame for past deeds but illuminating that which has mostly been hidden.
There is a bit of course language in this production but honestly, if that’s what upsets you about Secret River, you’re at the wrong play. And for anyone with triggers that include pre-loaded responses about First Nations people having it too good, or who don’t want to visit the past with open eyes, this may not be the show for you either.
You could promote this as a Chrisjohn production and that would be deserving of a series of full houses.
You could promote this because of the combination of writers Kate Grenville and Andrew Bovell, and that should fill seats on the strength of that alone.
And those points would be true.
Or you could say that this a timely, superior example of theatre done right. An embarrassingly strong ensemble cast, a profound and relevant story, and an event that will move you, provoke thought and stay with you.
This is one of the most powerful pieces of theatre I have seen. But don’t believe me, see it for yourself. You really should see it for yourself.
Bookings
The Secret River opens on 23 August at 7:30pm and continues until 9 September on the Lieder Theatre mainstage.
For tickets, please click here.