The Children

A challenging and rewarding work, The Children unfolds naturalistically in real time. 

On a simple functional set of a rustic kitchen by Elizabeth Gadsby, superbly lit by Paul Jackson, three clever and influential sixty something nuclear physicists reunite.  The world as they know it has been turned upside down by a Fukushima like disaster.  Some of their pasts are divulged and we get to witness their flawed and often messy humanness.  And the apparently altruistic reason for the, often uncomfortable, ‘get together’ is revealed in the last minutes of the piece. 

Lucy Kirkwood’s text functions on a number of levels.  As an unfolding story it is full of surprises and maintains interest.  However as an observation of characters from the baby boomer generation it sometimes feels like an indictment.  The subject matter of our damage to our planet is deeply unsettling.  But there is another niggling ambiguous rift in this production.  Perhaps it is in the writing.  I am wondering if this is because Kirkwood is a much younger woman than the generation she is writing about.  Therefore, what is presented is only partially from the lived perspective of the protagonists.  So, at times the actors are bound by the way Kirkwood has written - to perform their characters from the perspective of an observer.

There is lots of humour and many laughs in this work.  However, I get the impression there is a delicate balance, for director Sarah Goodes, between releasing the intrinsic sense of fun and play in the material from under the pall of the framing of a story of cataclysmic disaster.  I am wondering if the production itself tends more towards naturalism than the playwright intended.

Pamela Rabe’s Hazel is upfront and fascinated by, and unapologetic for, her own very human foibles.  At times she seems to be Hazel but every now and again she performs Hazel with self-deprecating humour.  Sarah Peirse brings to life the more independent and troubled Rose, a haunting presence who generally seems removed, somewhat toxic, and willfully unaffected by her friends.   William Zappa plays Robin, Hazel’s husband, the character with a greater sense of humour.  As with the other two, his character expresses a very finely toned sense of his own self-importance.   

Throughout there are a number of rather clunky clichés and strangely simplistic statements.   All three characters are penned as clever privileged people exhibiting the appropriate blend of narcissism of those of their generation.  They have a disparate awkwardness about them as they relate to each other in an often-prickly manner.   The chemistry between the characters feels thin and fleeting but perhaps this will grow during the run.  Or perhaps one of the points of the work is that we are all alone together in this nest that we have soiled.

Sound by Steve Francis is minimal and extremely effective particularly in the last moments of the staging. 

My quibbles and questions aside, I found The Children very engaging and rewarding, most particularly, for the argument it presents - I do heartily recommend it.

Suzanne Sandow 

Photographer: Jeff Busby.