In our hyper-connected world of the permanently online, screens might not show reality. Also, regardless of factual basis, opinions can spread quickly, and have violent results. We get an analogy for our times of concealed identities and social contagion in the premiere of Van Badham’s genre-jumping play Werewolf.
Aiming to be a dark comedy with “with twists, shocks and 80s horror film tropes”, the play is mainly concerned with characters of extreme political views. The impending arrival in Australia of a “fascist speaking tour” has splintered the left. The far right, galvanised by the government’s refusal of speaker visas, demand respect for freedom of speech.
Some quite-privileged (and maybe unthinkingly stereotypical, as shown through costume design by Harry Gill) young lefties, skater Daniel (Eddie Orton) and purple-haired Britt (Simon Corfield) work on a financially precarious “radical journal”.
This was founded by Nathan (Ben Walter) a young uni drop-out with zeal tending in a “holier than thou” kind of direction. They are fired up about the fascist tour, and thirst for confrontation, but also wonder how to position themselves for greater visibility.
The visiting fascists are also the subject of a Q&A-like panel show. Guests lined up by producer Mahla (Michelle Perera) include a former labour staffer, now “progressive think tank” convenor Jenny (Alexandra Aldrich). She’s surprised to appear with former fling Nick (Corfield again) a past UK Labour staffer, now head of a university research centre.
After her TV spot, Nathan’s keen to tell Jenny she could espouse more progressive views, but a menacing figure thinks she’s already said enough. The ensuing incident, and the effective comedic triumphalism following, showed that getting a taste for blood isn’t the preserve of either the left or the right of politics.
Whilst conflict escalates into the promised horror storyline, there’s quite a lot more going on in Werewolf. Maybe something other than a full moon – like fame? – could cause someone to reveal a hidden part of themselves? Maybe time in the rain with an old paramour can wash away Jenny’s memory of past disappointments? (Especially if accompanied by a touch of the score of Casablanca, just one delicious example of Daniel Nixon’s sound design.)
As a satire the work jumps around a bit, glancing across university status games, the degree of privilege shared by some people of diverse views, the hollowness of some movements, and how the left doesn’t get the right’s use of irony. Like modern politics, the audience was fractured, with different pockets getting their turn at laughter.
Scenes intending to show how Nathan could find common ground with far-right figures, such as provocateur Stevie Henderson (Orton again) seemed under-developed. This was unfortunate for the suspension of disbelief we need to fully accept Nathan’s progression.
Gary Abrahams’ direction ensures that gags and barbs are delivered crisply in this snappy work. Most of the multimedia elements are smoothly integrated into the action, giving us the sense of how news can spread in real time, with speedy repercussions.
Characters appear credible, despite their virtues being exaggerated for comic effect. Well, mostly. Perhaps it is one of those “horror tropes” that causes an otherwise intelligent person to force a confrontation. Even here, the impulsiveness shown produced a grisly comedic payoff.
The combination of sound effects and Sidney Younger’s lighting design effectively transformed the stage into various locations, and gave us some genuinely chilling scenes.
The play has many scene changes, especially early on, and some of these were a touch slow. Fairly quickly though, nimble changes by all the players, either between states of mind or different characters, kept the action flowing. Corfield is particularly impressive in the range he covers between Britt, Nick, and an obnoxiously blokey host of a Sky political show.
Badham has cleverly realised that political polarisation is a novel slant on the horror setup we’ve had since (at least) Frankenstein: there’s a risk to messing with forces you don’t fully understand. The creative team deserve much credit for their crafting and weaving of elements all the way through to the work’s conclusion.
Those looking for a final big thrill in their Melbourne Fringe (or maybe slightly after it) will find this Werewolf poised to take a bite out of us for our role in the intolerance of modern political discourse.
Werewolf
The Show Room – Arts Centre Melbourne, 100 St Kilda Road, Melbourne
Performance: Thursday 17 October 2024
Season continues to 26 October 2024
Information and Bookings: www.artscentremelbourne.com.au
Images: Eddy Orton and Ben Walter in Werewolf – photo by Mark Gambino | Alexandra Aldrich and Simon Corfield in Werewolf – photo by Mark Gambino
Review: Jason Whyte