Oriel

Many people will have forgotten or have never heard of Oriel Gray (1920 – 2003), the prolific playwright for the left-wing New Theatre and for radio station 2KY, all the way through to the ABCTV’s Bellbird.  Playwright Merrilee Moss wants us to leave the theatre asking, ‘Who is Oriel Gray – and why haven’t I heard of her before?’  I’d say she succeeds.

Ms Moss says she didn’t set out to write a biography of Oriel Gray – but if ‘biography’ implies a plodding ‘this happened and then that happened’, this show certainly isn’t that.  It is lively, funny, insightful, poignant and pointed.  There are brief scenes of key developments in Oriel Gray’s life, which segue in and out of scenes from her plays; the cast of five performing many roles.  Life and Art bounce off each other and demonstrate how the one feeds the other.

But Merrilee Moss, in a sort of reflexive move, adds another layer: she writes a version of herself into the show as character called simply ‘Moss’ (Hannah Monson) a playwright of today conducting a dialogue across the years with her colleague Oriel Gray – and not always to Moss’ advantage.  Moss, the smart, brisk number, striding about in high heel boots and all in black – a contrast to the 1940s dowdy - complains of being blocked, needing quiet, needing inspiration.  Oriel, writing with a baby in her lap and a philandering husband, finds these complaints amusing.  So does this show’s playwright and so do we.  It’s a clever device, breaking the fourth wall and bringing Oriel’s experience, insights and advice right into the present. 

Oriel is played with great charm, warmth and mischief by Sarah Hamilton.  Her performance cannily suggests that Oriel is the smartest character on stage – any time.  She gives us an impulsive, passionate, resilient woman with an indefatigable sense of ironic humour, a member of the Communist Party - but out of idealism not ideology – an independent thinker, she left in 1949 - and someone who had to write – anywhere, any time.  Her work, even in the necessarily brief representations here, comes across as a theatre of ideas and causes (the rights of women, indigenous rights, even the environment) – but embodied in lively characters in strong narratives.  As her 9 years older sister Grace (or ‘Grayce’), Alyson Gale – impressively adaptable in several roles - proves an ideal partner, supporter and foil for Oriel – even when Oriel turns to Grace’s husband, John Hepworth (Nicholas Rijs) for comfort after John Gray (Charlie Mycroft) cheats on Oriel and leaves her holding the baby – literally.

Mr Mycroft is suitably suave and just that bit spivvy and unreliable – a fine performance that also turns nasty when his John Gray blames Oriel – of course – for all their problems.  Mr Rijs has an endearing warmth and a kind of innocent bloke’s humour, but possibly he lets being blokey and boofy get a little in the way of his diction – a minor point.

But what must be applauded here is the look of this production.  Director Kim Durban moves her cast around the small space admirably.  The sceptics jeering Oriel from the sidelines.  John Gray waiting, eyes lowered, to one side.  A moving tram (two chairs) and a cheeky conductor.  A spontaneous, irresistible kiss.  Oriel trying to write when hugely pregnant.  Conversations in pubs.  At the CPA office.  Backstage at the New Theatre.  A delightful example is where the three women are salesgirls in the millinery department of a department store.  They sing, they make a tableau, it’s like a movie musical and all the hats are red.  Designer Adam (Gus) Powers makes red a dominant, unmissable element – red hats, red bands on hats, red braces on the blokes.  It gives a vitality to the ‘period’ touches of the 1930s, ‘40s and ‘50s.  The set is a city skyline of corrugated iron, two boxes covered in manuscript, Oriel’s typewriter on one, Moss’ computer one the other, and some bentwood chairs.  Nothing else required.  Nick Glen’s lighting design complements the bright look, mostly flooding the stage with warm or cool light rather than picking out detail – and it works extremely well.

The thirty or so Year 11 and 12 schoolgirls with whom I saw the show – okay, primed by their teachers – appeared to enjoy it enormously.  They got all the jokes – and recognised with a sigh or a wry ‘huh’ all the instances of male assumptions about the place and role of women.  ‘Well, now you’ve had a baby, Oriel…’  Etc.

Oriel might edge a little toward agit-prop (like its eponymous heroine’s work), but it makes its powerful case and asks its powerful questions in a most entertaining, good-natured way.  Oriel didn’t get bitter and nor does her story.  Why is she forgotten?  Why did her play The Torrents, equal winner with Lawler’s Summer of the 17^th Doll in 1954 of the Playwrights’ Advisory Board Award, never get a professional production till the 1980s?  The answers are dramatised with a light touch in this production.  Without taking anything away from The Doll, why is it written about as if it were the beginning of Australian theatre?  Oriel Gray and, for instance, Betty Roland (A Touch of Silk in 1928!) surely prepared the way.   It ends on 18 September.  Get there.

Michael Brindley

P.S. You can hear a 1995 interview with Oriel Gray here:

www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/verbatim/oriel-gray/3678820

Image: Sarah Hamilton. Photographer: Stefania Di Gennaro.