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Images credit: Heidrun Lohr.

POSTED: 07 APRIL 2009

The Man from Mukinupin, by Dorothy Hewett

(Company B & Melbourne Theatre Company | Belvoir Street Theatre, Surry Hills, Sydney | Until 17 May)

Wesley Enoch states in the Director’s Notes for The Man From Mukinupin: “God I love musicals.” Hear, hear. But I would add: “God I love musicals as funny, smart and innovative as that which the wonderful Dorothy Hewett has created.” But perhaps that’s a bit of a mouthful …

What Enoch has brought to life in this revival of The Man From Mukinupin is not only a tribute to Hewett’s original work, but to the tradition of theatre in Australia. Enoch has set the show within a show — a group of travelling performers in 1950s Outback Australia, entertaining the locals with the story of Mukinupin, set in the early years of the 1900s.

The actors are on stage as the audience enters. They mill around, dancing and chatting, until ‘the show’ starts by way of drawing the tatty curtain.

And so we are off on a fast-paced mix of comedy, music, dance, and more issues to ponder than your average musical. Old theatrical devices are employed, such as the pair of sisters to comment/narrate (the wonderful Lillian Crombie and Valentina Levkowicz), vaudevillian turns, and musicians at the side of the action with their seemingly mismatched range of instruments.

Shadow is real and thematic in this production: flickering images at the campfire; dancing, marching silhouettes projected upon the makeshift curtains; the glaring distinction between day and night; the broadest of comedy juxtaposed with the tragedy of genocide; exploration of that vessel of human fallibility and base instinct, Jung’s ‘shadow self’.

Issues around Indigenous Australians, racism, treatment of women, the environment and war are interwoven. Memory of ancestors and friends, atrocities and emotion, live on in the landscape and the deepest layer of the ‘shadow self’ — the collective unconscious. That which we find repulsive in others is what we suppress and fear in ourselves. But as Jung states, the less the shadow is incorporated into one’s life, the denser and blacker the darkness becomes.

Thus Hewett exposes the shadow to light, throwing up mirrors by way of the ‘twin’ — Jack and Harry, Eek and Zeek, Polly and Lily. Memories that won’t be repressed or denied emerge through these shadows.

Music threads its way throughout, subtly adding depth to characterisation and bursting to the forefront in hilarious, moving and powerful songs. Jim Cotter’s score evokes music hall, torch song, fairground and campfire.

While one couldn’t say all the actors’ voices are the strongest or most tuneful at times, it really doesn’t matter. In fact (accidentally or not), this adds to the sense of the travelling troupe, bound by enthusiasm and the joy of performing.

And the performances are a joy. This is an especially strong band of actors, playing the comedy and pathos equally well. Kerry Walker plays a beautifully crusty, stern Edie Perkins, and every time she began a poetry recitation the audience held its breath — only to let it out in gales of laughter.

David Page’s gorgeously expressive face and expert timing was a delight in his trio of roles as Cecil, Max and The Flasher. Max Gillies is, as ever, compelling to watch, particularly as the gibbering Zeek. Amanda Muggleton’s fading starlet, Mercy Montebello, hits every note to the back row in crackling fashion.

Suzannah Bayes-Morton does a wonderful job of carrying off polar opposites in the roles of Polly and Lily. Jack/Harry, as played in lively and intense style by Craig Annis, fills the stage with his physical presence and charisma.

An enthusiastic and appreciative audience easily forgave some slight opening-night hiccups. The Man From Mukinupin truly has something for everyone — whether you go home humming a tune, chuckling at an especially witty line, recalling a facial expression, or contemplating the deeper social and psychological issues, there’s plenty to gain watching this merry band “muckin’ up”.