Review: Blackrock at MC Showroom

Review by Greg Gorton

Note: Blackrock is a play about sexual violence, abuse, and killing. It contains depictions and conversations of concerning nature, including talk of abuse and suicide.

When I grew up in Newcastle I was too young to notice the media circus surrounding the Leigh Leigh murder this show was based on, but old enough that when the original piece was developed into Blackrock, it did so under a continued cloud of controversy. Based on a real life event, and made against the wishes of the victim’s family, Blackrock is a play dipped in blackness. Seeing it for the first time in fifteen years, I am surprised and saddened about how little has changed, how we haven’t moved an inch against the violent misogyny of modern Australia, and just how much it hurts absolutely everyone.

Watching Lunatix’s production, however, I also see strength not found at the turn of the millennium. This production is one in which the men know they are the villains and the women are celebrated for their strength.

The set design for this production of Blackrock is simple and effective. A few wooden pallets and a backdrop of corrugated iron strike at the heart of a blue-collar Newcastle; it was a city constantly enveloped in the smog of BHP, where the people sit on the edge between land and sea, hoping the waves and wind will clean them of it. While I could not appreciate the red sign to the side of the stage, finding it too unclear in its message, it also never got in the way of enjoyment.

The costumes were perfect representations of nineties Australian culture, including the parents and tertiary characters. I must admit that I didn’t take note of the lighting, but I have always considered that high praise - it offered the performers the opportunity to shine, without gimmick or shadow. Likewise, the sound design hinted of a greater world without being too insistent on our understanding of place.

Grace Mclauglin and Maddie Richards directed this play with quiet intention - this is a modernist work, naturalistic, and there is no getting “clever” - they let the characters speak for themselves. McLauglin and Richards also brought together a most impressive ensemble of actors, and knew how to draw the very best from them. The two directors also make sure not to neglect the examples of misogyny often glossed over, and treat Roy (perhaps the only decent man in the play) without mockery.

Fletcher von Arx plays Jared with a perceived passivity. It is a performance that downplays the internal struggle and highlights the weakness of will and ultimate cowardice of the character. Ricko, the older “mentor” of the group, is often played like a stereotype and Bailey Griffith’s performance is thankfully far more nuanced than that.

While the original play, A Property of The Clan, focussed heavily on the young men, their motivations, and their feelings afterward, Blackrock took more time to explore how women survive in this violently patriarchal society, and how they find strength. McLauglin and Richards lean heavily into this part of the show, to great effect.

Sabrina Rault plays the character of Rachel with a determined heroism against the behaviour of her brother, boyfriend, and even father. There is a strength in Rault’s performance that produces a young woman who refuses to be broken. Cassandra Hart’s Diane is far more philosophical, but equally as strong.

However, the performance that had me in awe was Isabel Dickson’s portrayal of Tiffany. Tiffany is a difficult character to play - filled with internalised misogyny, she has been convinced of her place in society. It is difficult to imagine today, but many previous productions would turn this character into comic relief (perhaps that says something about how we perceived “the slut” stereotype then and now). Dickson’s performance is heartwrenching - from Tiffany’s need to overdrink, to her inability to place blame where it deserves, it’s difficult not being able to reach out and ask “can I help?” Her final scene was a gut-punch.

If there is any criticism to be found in Lunatix’ production of Blackrock, it might be in the choreography of violent scenes. These scenes (bar the boxing) were far from compelling, even though they were framed by incredible performances. The show could have taken more risks in its fight choreography, or use some of the many theatrical techniques that make physical combat look tense.

I do want to applaud, however, a connected role of far more importance. As intimacy co-ordinator for Blackrock, Jessica Stanely would have had their hands full. I cannot emphasise enough how physically and emotionally draining this production would have been for the cast, and to look after a production in such a way should always be met with explicit and loud praise.

Despite its problematic origin story, Blackrock remains an important and effective story in which to explore toxic masculinity, and the strength of women against it. Lunatix has put on a truly superb interpretation of the play which humanises those who commit horrors while reminding us that understanding is not accepting, and empathy is not forgiveness.

Image Supplied