TARTUFFE
TARTUFFE, presented by RAUS at KXT on Broadway, 2-17 October 2026. Photography by Phil Erbacher: above Will Thomas and Annie Byron; below: Tamara Lee Bailey, Will Thomas and Travis Howard; below again: Lucy Miller and Deborah Galanos
An unusual, possibly unique, trigger warning question awaits customers for Tartuffe on arrival at KXT on Broadway. “Are you allergic to latex?” The reason? The auditorium floor is covered in balloons: red, green, blue, yellow, balloons, balloons, balloons. And if you’re wondering what this has to do with Molière’s 1664 comedy of family bad manners, the answer is: not a lot.
Does this matter? Not a lot. The credit for the production is “written and directed by Phillip James Rouse.” And the script is pas mal du tout or not half bad, in Strine. The show’s two hours (including interval) begin promisingly with foul-mouthed, boho-costumed grandmere, Madame Pernelle (Annie Byron), giving anyone in earshot and beyond a sparkling serve of vintage grumpiness. It’s funny and beautifully delivered. If only the 110 minutes that follow were of similar tone and volume.
Very few writer-directors can pull off that job combination because there is no other to balance a tendency to - say - over-write, or goad actors into excess; no other voice to say, “let’s kill this darling,” or even “steady on, old son.” The result is what happens for most of this Tartuffe’s running time: actors directed to crank up the volume to the max and shriek, bellow, and yell to the pointless detriment of every word and their individual performances.
It’s such a pity, as the production has so much else going for it. As well as the scene-saving Byron, there are her daughters, Orgonelle and Elmire (Deborah Galanos and Lucy Miller), Orgo in the conman Tartuffe’s thrall, Elmire trying to drag her out of it. Trouble is, in the person of Julian Garner, barefoot and draped in white linen, this suave pseudo-swami is all too appealing and, in Orgi’s eyes, can do no wrong.
Caught in this tangle is the third generation: Orgi’s daughter Marianne (Dominique Purdue), son Damis (Travis Howard), Marianne’s best bud Valere (Will Thomas), and the household’s gum-chewing, demi-Goth general factotum Dorinne (Tamara Lee Bailey). Between them all the family estate and fortune are up in the air because Orgonelle’s husband is recently mort. However, while everything is hers – unless Tartuffe can get his manicured paws on it – if Damis marries before Monday, it will be secured. Small snag: he’s gay and madly in love with Valere, and moral maid Marianne sees this as an impossible impediment. But Dorinne cajoles, threatens, and persuades her into agreeing to say “I do”, despite her scruples.
Nothing is straightforward in classic French farce, however, and even less so in a 21st-century rewrite. As balloons go pop and the course of true love goes wildly awry, the very fine company follows it almost over the cliff. What could have been is seen in occasional flashes of brilliance in the rare moments of subtlety and serious comedy gold. Byron, Bailey, Garner and Thomas have the best of these while the others, being required to begin with the volume already off the dial, have nowhere else to go but over the top.
It’s a wicked waste of talent and a great shame, especially at a rare juncture in Sydney theatre when Simon Phillips’ masterful and hilarious direction of The Unfriend, and Anthea Williams’ of The Elevator are cracking up audiences on the other side of town. Rouse would do himself and his cast a favour by watching both and learning from them. The only job in theatre more difficult than writer/director is comedy itself. Anna Gardiner’s deliciously bonkers mix of 17th-century and ten-bucks-at-Vinnie’s costumes is another excellent job; lighting design by Richard Whitehouse and sound by Matty James, likewise.
