Canary.

Canary is, ostensibly a poignant family drama set in the UK, with a familiar theme of secrets and lies, where the sins of the father ends up poisoning the family well.

As has become the trend in modern cinema, the narrative unfolds gradually, via a series of interwoven, time-traversing sequences. The result being that the political backdrop becomes another character in the story.

With the issue of Same Sex Marriage being the searing-hot global topic that it is, The New Theatre’s contribution to this year’s Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Festival could not be more timely or pertinent.

Harvey’s script is a love letter to the brave civil rights pioneers who went before, as well as an object history lesson, recapping the bloody battles the LGBT community have fought since the advent of large-scale 'Gay Liberation' activism in the early 1960s.

This delicately-layered story of denial and sacrifice is certainly not without humour, albeit incidental. Retrospective snapshots of Mary Whitehouse, pioneer of The Festival of Light movement in the early 1970s interspersed with 1980s PM Margaret Thatcher, depicted grappling with how to confront the AID’s crisis as a PR exercise, come across as darkly satiric in today’s enlightened times.

On the page, this play would present a formidable challenge. Hearty congratulations to Curnow and his creative team, for their streamlining of the jumbled time frames thanks to gently evocative scene changes, which remain fluid throughout.

A deceptively simple set design consisting mainly of sheer white curtains – sectioning off segments of the stage, coax the audience in and out each scene, conjuring the turning of pages and the lifting of veils, or indeed the reverse: the placing of gauze over a festering truth. With fantasy sequences intermingled with jarring realism – a strong and unflinchingly committed cast was required and this polished ensemble delivers beautifully.

With eight actors playing 24 characters – the chance of audience confusion is high, but vivid characterisations throughout keep the ambiguity-factor remarkably low. While sentimental and heart-breaking, the piece is not all gloom and doom. Ending on a hopeful note, it dares to throw down the gauntlet. Many battles have been won, bit the vitriol still being spewed forth on various websites covering the Gay Marriage debate, proves that this civil rights war is far from over, and complacency must be avoided.

Lest we forget.

Rose Cooper

Photographer: Bob Seary