Review: A View of Concrete

Entering the dark, hazy and intimate interior of Belvoir St Downstairs Theatre is the first confrontation of many you will experience during A View Of Concrete. A stark set, atmospheric music and the presence of the actors already on stage combine to create a discomfiting beginning. Hang on; it’s only just begun.

The idea behind A View of Concrete is not new — an austere vision of an all-too-probable future — yet writer Gareth Ellis infuses his script with enough intelligence, adrenaline and wit to make it unique.

Despairing at the bleak reality of their exterior world, where the natural environment is suffocating and society is crumbling, it becomes apparent that what these four young people are facing most urgently is the enemy within.

B Sharp, the independent wing of Company B, provides an outlet for artists to deliver a variety of smaller-scale productions and to showcase the remarkable depth of young talent in Australian theatre.

The calibre of the actors in this production is incredible. Director Laura Scrivano has shaped their individual talents into a seamless whole and created a theatrical experience of startling intensity, dark humour and desolation.

Katie Fitchett’s Billy is mesmerising, successfully balancing sweetness and fragility with steely determination to fulfil her deluded dream. Alexandria Steffensen portrays Jacquie, a young woman tormented by secret desires. Her frenetic performance is breathtaking.

Jacquie’s boyfriend, the paranoid, confused James (Andrew Bibby) is desperate to make sense of the world but only succeeds in creating the very horror he is trying to avoid. It is a masterful depiction of a tortured soul.

Most memorable is Neil (Damian Walshe-Howling), a brash, self-confident drug dealer. He brilliantly conveys the twisted morality, charisma and edginess of this fascinating character.

A word to those with delicate sensibilities — there is copious coarse language, simulated drug use and some violence, and the haze machine used to create the smog-filled atmosphere had several people near me wheezing and coughing.

Emerging from their world 90 minutes later — there is no interval — I felt dazed, drained, and yet somehow exhilarated. I attribute this to having been witness to such raw, passionate performances.

The future of theatre is in good hands.