All The Blood And All The Water
All the Blood and All the Water by Suzie Miller, Lennox Theatre, Riverside Parramatta May 6-17;ph: (61 2) 8839 3399 or www.riversideparramatta.com.au
A month before its opening night at Parramatta, Suzie Miller’s latest play, All the Blood and All the Water was, I understand, close to two hours in length and in two acts, with interval. By opening night it had been pared back to 75 minutes, no interval.
It is not uncommon for the stoutest of hearts to sink a centimetre on hearing that “new play” and “two hours” are connected, but on this occasion: no. So rich, raw and rare are the material and characters Miller has assembled that when the lights went to black on a scene of sudden violence and impending tragedy, my first thought was – “Oh no. There has to be more!”
There is more, of course, because the play explores the underlying social ills that have been afflicting Australia since the rise of Pauline Hanson’s xenophobic views and her tacit support from former PM John Howard.
All the Blood is set in a Sydney beachside ‘burb at a time in the not too distant past when Lebs, Wogs and Aussies co-existed in a love of the sun and surf. Theirs is the kind of free and easy life that has made Australia the wonder and envy of the rest of the strife-torn world. Until recently, that is.
Angel (Faysal Bazzi) and Ryder (Will Snow) are schoolboy best mates of such passionate affection that it seems nothing could come between them. Angel is a sort-of Wog, he says, (“my mother’s Italian”) but the undercurrents in the wider world are enough for him to keep quiet about his dad, Ali (Patrick Dickson), whose idea of good tucker is felafels and hummus.
[page]Ryder’s home life isn’t too crash hot either: his elder brother Jax (Sean Barker) is in jail and teetering on the edge of a long term career in violent crime. Jax is scary. Also frightening is Angel’s cousin, the smooth-talking but simmering cousin Aziz (Johnny Nasser). Aziz and Jax are the opposite sides of the same coin: they revel in testosterone, bigotry and a capacity to bully. Their belief in their divine right to rule their roosts is breathtaking.
Circling the boys like bees around a honeypot are Lola (Billie Rose Prichard) and her best mate Honey (Emily Brennan). Honey is what’s commonly known as “a nice kid”, but Lola is trouble. Electrifying, preternaturally dangerous, clearly damaged – possibly beyond repair – 100% trouble.
In lesser hands, the idea for the plot and characters could so easily have given a nod to Romeo and Juliet; but Miller is a thoughtful and accomplished writer and avoids all temptations to cliche or the easy way out. Because of her day job as a lawyer specialising in homeless youth, her feel for those who are unconsciously and almost inevitably heading into hazardous territory is spot on. She also has a finely tuned ear for crackling dialogue.
That there will be tears before bedtime would come as no surprise; it’s the route to bedtime that’s interesting. It’s also where there is some frustration that quite so much of the script ended up on the rehearsal room floor. There are tantalising hints of back stories and glimmers of other layers that are, inevitably, skated over in the determination to keep it short and sharp.
That the play is as coherent, dramatic and entertaining as it is, is a tribute to the strength of the piece and also to the intelligent work of director John Sheedy in orchestrating the often conflicting emotional demands of the characters: melodrama would have been easy but honesty and understanding is what they’ve all achieved.
The production also has the gift of one of the most beautiful and atmospheric set designs to grace a Sydney stage in a while. Co-designed by Bradley Clark and Alexandra Sommer, with lighting by Nicholas Higgins and sound design by Robin McCarthy, the Lennox stage is totally transformed into an evocation of down-at-heel oceanside suburbia in summer.
As Ali, Patrick Dickson is a beautiful study in traumatised anguish as the immigrant man haunted by his past; in their different ways Johnny Nasser and Sean Barker never let up as the twin pressure cookers of simmering rage and hatred that is the older “boys”. In contrast, Faysal Bazzi, Emily Brennan and Will Snow have the tricky task of doing “normal” and “nice” without being bland or lifeless, and they succeed.
It has to be said though that it’s nasty, tortured Lola (Billie Rose Prichard) who remains indelibly in the mind. This is a girl whose bravado and vicious creativity reek of secrets and sadness. She is a shocking and fascinating character and Prichard gives her the kind of electricity and deep-down credibility that make her irresistible.
All the Blood and All the Water is a new, raw work, but it’s a work in progress. It has something to say about Australia today that is uncomfortable and real. At the same time it provides a ripping 75 minutes of entertainment and it would be excellent iflots of schools exposed their young teenagers to it, if not in this short season, then in the next.
