Wild Thing

What happens when a woman, a brilliant artist who has always lived life on her own terms, becomes aware that she has a disease which will rob her of one thing she prizes above anything else: her own independence? There is a logical but unpalatable conclusion, but will her friends and family allow it?

The play opens on a 1950s art class excursion at a riverside and four painfully naïve girls talking about sex. When their teacher emerges, the cheekiest of them demands to know how pregnancy happens. While the teacher is aghast, Jackie runs giggling and squealing into the river for an unpermitted, rebellious swim. Emboldened, soon all four are squealing in the water. Shortly afterwards, the scene morphs to the modern day and a post-60-year-old Jackie who is confused, lost but dignified, still cheeky and who has somehow got onto a plane without a ticket, nattering to the steward about her “lover” Marco, all while her son and friends are frantically searching for her. The poignant jolt of this juxtaposition is characteristic of how beautifully crafted this work is.

This play is a celebration of character, spirit and self-determination. Each of the characters is gloriously well-drawn. Although obviously the actors are not young, their portrayal of themselves as energetic thirteen-year-olds is absolutely credible. Jackie (Di Smith) is flamboyant, fierce, creative and brave, inspiring and emboldening her circle of friends. Di Smith beautifully portrays Jackie’s life-long refusal to bend to social norms and her insistence in living her life how she wants. Liz (Helen O’Connor) is multi-divorced, swinging, drinking libertine who keeps herself in magnificent shape by pole-dancing. Katrina Foster portrays how marriage counsellor Frances’s low self-esteem causes her to blame herself for not being able to save her own marriage. Di Adams as very Catholic Susan shows how much she is secretly bristling against the strictures of her faith, even as she berates her friends for not getting and staying married. These differences in opinion do not ever become real conflict, as the strength of the women’s friendship allows them to be brutally honest with each other. The actors convey a bond between these women which is strong, affectionate, accepting and important.

The play is wonderfully written. As a language nerd, I loved that the Australian vernacular and character was bang on and appropriate for each era. The text is poetic and there are are potent symbols, most memorably a sea eagle which representing Jackie’s free spirit, her association with flying, and even her now dead life-partner, the pilot Marco (played affectionately by Tony Poli). There are brief lyrical reminiscences and evocations of nature, culminating in an exquisitely moving and tragic final scene.

Alzheimer’s and suicide can be triggering themes. Like aging, this play is perhaps not for the faint-hearted. But it is very good indeed.

Cathy Bannister