Review by Scott Whitmont
David Williamson is well known for his satirical comedies exploring the hypocrisies and challenges of middle- and upper-class Australia. In his latest offering, Aria – premiering at the Ensemble Theatre – he sticks with what he knows best, brilliantly examining class, privilege and family relationship themes to which most theatregoers can relate.
Aria opens with Monique (Tracy Mann) checking that all is set in her stylish living room for the imminent arrival of her three sons and their wives, summoned annually for a joint birthday celebration. Charlie (Rowan Davie) was born three years to the day after fraternal twins, Liam (Jack Starkey-Gill) and Daniel (Sam O’Sullivan).
Monique never lets her family forget that she gave up would-be fame on the opera stage for marriage and motherhood duties. With an over-inflated ego and played to perfection by Mann, Monique is an overbearing, insufferable narcissist who is forever making outrageous and cutting pronouncements, criticising the daughters-in-law she deems not good enough for the sons she adores, despite her tendency to regularly point out their flaws. (“Daniel, not every male has to be strong and decisive.”) Mann is triumphant as Aria’s lynchpin character, mesmerising as the ultimate imperious matriarch.
Liam is a State MP, convinced he has the numbers to become the next Premier of NSW. His ambition is his obsession, and he leaves the raising of their four nightmare children to his long-suffering and ignored wife, Chrissy (Suzannah McDonald). Equally convinced of his own abilities is Daniel - an architectural draftsman with notions of becoming a successful structural engineer despite his lack of educational prowess. His wife Judy (Danielle King) is the breadwinner - a high-flying law firm partner who grew up working class but excelled in her studies and career. Much to her ‘monster-in-law’s’ disgust, she’s set on taking their daughter out of her private Eastern Suburbs school and sending her to (gulp…) Concord High.
Lastly, Charlie runs a successful marketing agency and spends all his spare time at the yacht club with his mates instead of with his much younger second wife Midge – a beautician whom he married after a surprisingly short courtship. Played with just the right level of confidence and chutzpah by Tamara Lee Bailey, she’s not afraid to give Monique as good as she gets. Monique, the unabashed snob, is far from impressed with her new daughter-in-law’s profession.
In fact, Monique constantly undermines all three daughters-in-law whose affection for her sons she sees as competition to her own. Before long, the women are pushed to breaking point and one by one, hilariously unleash the feelings they’ve so long been suppressing.
Discord abounds. Yet Williamson’s snappy dialogue coupled with Janine Watson’s clearly masterful direction, ensures a highly entertaining black comedy that successfully delves into a multiplicity of sub-topics from political power and the state of our education system to marriage, parenting and the class divide.
The audience engages delightedly, thanks to the talent of the ensemble cast who each in their own way, reel in one’s sympathy despite (or perhaps because of) their many character flaws and peccadillos.
Overarching everything, however, is the question of whether we are aware of our shortcomings. Are any of us as good as we think we are? How delusional are we in our self-perceptions and ambitions and who are we without them?
Set and Costume Designer Rose Montgomery shows brilliant attention to detail with Monique’s classy living room and partial garden terrace. Framed family photos abound atop the grand piano; striking artwork adorns the walls; and an all-important wet bar facilitates the steady flow and continuous consumption of Moët & Chandon who surely should be paying for product placement!
Lighting Designer Matt Cox dims the lighting and adds shadows effectively as the afternoon progresses into evening. His triumph, however - as Tracy Mann delivers her final, adept Queen of the Night aria – is her growing, menacing shadow which gradually creeps up the wall and overtakes the room, so perfectly reflecting how Monique lauds overbearingly over all in the family.
Rivalries, questionable ambitions, repressed resentments and unfair expectations exist in one form or another in all families. In the hands of Williamson, Watson, Mann and Co, however, they’ve never been more fun.
