Last Cab to Darwin

Last Cab to Darwin is a play about death (and life) the personal (and the political) an individual (and a country). Cribb’s script is redolent with poetry and metaphor.

The set by Carolyn Whamond is a total corker. Augmented by Louise Stub’s lighting design, the stage is open and spacious, baking under the warm colours of the outback. Placed on a revolve, everything on set is recycled or second hand. Dry grass and cyclone fencing is enhanced by Rogan Brown’s evocative soundscape. The audience can hear the cicadas, smell the red dust and are vigilant to slap the hovering mosquitos.

Co-starring with the set, is Brendon Flynn. Highly credentialed in the theatre, Flynn has his personal reasons for playing Max, the cabbie who drives from Broken Hill to Darwin in 1996 to avail himself of the briefly legal assisted dying laws. Flynn is on stage for the entire play. An archetypal Aussie, Flynn plays Max, the poetic philosopher, in the relaxed, resigned manner of a man who has comes to terms with his fate. Flynn, with the lanky physique of an ANZAC, gives Max as a man as discomfited by his cancer and the death of his country as he by the unwanted media attention he receives. The audience is engaged by his sardonic humour as well as the pathos of Max’s situation. Flynn gives a perfect depiction of Max.

Flynn is supported by a plethora of others taking numerous roles. Jodi Haines is pivotal as next-door neighbour Polly. The comic trio of David Bloomfield, Mark Morgan and Tony Webb show us the best and worst of the Aussie mateship. Claire Latham and Bil Heit help create much of the emotional impact of Act 2. It is a strong ensemble.

The play is long, likes Max’s journey, but only ever flags during the parliamentary scene. In their ivory tower defined by a box table light, the scene added little, except to remind audiences that policy affects lives. Maybe Flynn needed a cuppa at that juncture.

Cribb’s play is beautifully written. He writes poetically about roadkill and the love it takes to put down a mongrel dog. There are charming and powerful phrases used. Something might make you go “rabbit proof mad”. Death tears away at your body “in greedy handfuls”. Particularly poignant is “God didn’t put the cattle here”.

Max, eaten away from the inside out, enjoins us all to “look at the moon” rather than the gutter. This is an excellent production of a great Australian play.

Anne Blythe-Cooper

Photographer: Karen Fahey