Review: The Anarchy (1138-53) at Theatre Works

Review by Greg Gorton

If Terry Jones played Elder Scrolls and then asked Terry Pratchett to write about it, you’d end up with a script that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike The Anarchy. However, a good script does not do enough to make a good show. And to get the performance of The Anarchy, you would need to give that script to a twelve year old game streamer high on G-Fuel and insomnia, have them record all two and a half hours on a bad mic, and then play the result through the bluetooth speaker of a cooker on Bourke Street.

Yes, this play is that wild, that confusing, that full of potential, and that ultimately annoying.

Walking into the theatre brought a mix of emotions. It was one of the most interesting sets I’d seen at Theatre Works: a mirrored runway flanked by rickety seating and book ended by tall mirrors and four pennants of the fictional world. On stage stood Kerith and Tobias Manderson-Galvin. Kerith in a long black dress evoking images of funerals and witches, Tobias in something you might expect if you had only ever read of Punk Rock, and what appeared to be pilates or ballet flats. Tobias was also covered in chains that would tinkle like fairy bells.

Of course, these two were in the dark, and would mostly be in the dark for the first twenty minutes of the show. In the dark cacophony. When the lights suddenly come on, they are blinding, and all-pervasive, illuminating the audience on the other side of you as much as they do the performers.

For the noise in The Anarchy remains just below the threshold of unbearable. Every line by Tobias is a shouted monotony, with microphone or not. While Kerith offers slightly more subtlety to their performance, it could only be considered so in comparison. Competing with them is music and soundscapes that offer the only range, and also the only element to inform my narrative experience.

Stepping back to the words of this piece, they are the most fascinating thing to talk about. They present a poorly-described walk-through of a fictional, open world computer game, but at the same time a history of Medieval England. There are glimpses, if you try hard to listen, of social commentary and contemporary humour, though any real message or theme is difficult to determine due to how they are presented. Much of the script could be edited down due to repetition, but it is clear that the terribly long nature of the show (over two hours with no intermission) is part of its appeal or lack thereof. In fact, the show creators clearly state that this is but the first of a trilogy that they wish to make 15 hours long. This would mean the next two shows are over 6 hours a piece.

The text is broken up by moments, but these moments offer little more than a break from repetition. At one point the two performers dance ala A Knight’s Tale, at another a wooden illustrated sheep ala an illuminated manuscript came down from the ceiling. For those of us who made it to the end (as over a half dozen audience members had given up by then) there was something that might have shocked a child who hadn’t visited a freak show, but definitely no regular theatre goers.

And here is the thing that had me most disappointed by The Anarchy - the cowardice. Creators, “Doppelgangster”, have marketed themselves across the board (including in their interview with Theatre Works) as a type of theatrical disruptor, an attempt to bring the ideas of anarchists to stage. There was a strong feeling throughout the night that they wanted to offend the audience, and put us out of our comfort zone.

However, other than the headache-inducing noise and strobes, there is little of real shock value presented. A vomit bucket is mentioned but nothing nauseating occurs, there’s a joke about a potential hanging, but no actual hanging. Chains, but no piercings, tattoos but no being tattooed. Audience participation is forced on them without the comforting consent ordinary productions now offer, but the audience is at most expected to drink tepid tea or wear a mask.

Most importantly, there is no message, nothing political to note when an exploration of either gaming OR medieval England offers such a great backdrop to say something important. The presentation might give me a headache but it isn’t one that challenges my sensibilities. There is a superficial presentation of punk, but no real rebellion. The show is Metallica selling mattresses.

The most fascinating thing about The Anarchy is the story of its creation. The use of a script fed into the ears of the performers, the work that must have gone into finding all the jokes we barely catch, the struggles of moving this set around the world - the documentary of behind the scenes of this show would be a thousand times more compelling than the show itself.

I cannot recommend seeing this show for anyone other than the bloody-minded audience member wanting to find out where your limits lie. I’m proud that I am one of the reviewers who made it to the end, just in case it would be made all worth it, but that also means I can tell you for certain: it wasn’t.

Image Supplied