Everything about Neil Armfield’s production of
Summer of the Seventeenth Doll is classic. The staging is classic in its naturalistic approach, the performances are of classic Australian character types and of course, the play itself is classic in its place within the annals of Australian theatre. Whether or not this is enough to sustain the relevance and potency of a nearly 60-year-old play is debatable, but in a world where the status quo is to rework and modernize, it’s definitely a refreshing change.
Set during the summer of 1953, the story revolves around the annual return from ‘up north’ of Arthur ‘Barney’ Ibbot (Travis McMahon) and Reuben ‘Roo’ Webber (Steve Le Marquand), two as Aussie-as-they-come cane cutters. It marks the seventeenth year of a tradition held between the two men and two city women, Olive (Alison Whyte) and Nancy, wherein they spend a passionate and carefree five months together. However, during this particular summer, the couples begin to experience a change. They find the sheen of their youth has worn off and what was once an inhibition free time of frivolity has become a stale and different affair. Nancy, Barney’s partner in summer crime, has moved on and married, leaving Olive to invite a work colleague, Pearl, as a potential substitute. As the play moves on and the story unfolds, so too does each character’s ability or inability to deal with these changes. They must learn to move forward and let go as they fight to hold onto the past, ignoring the imminence of age.
It’s pretty hard to review the first night of a show. The nerves are blazing, the performances haven’t settled in or been fully realized, so I think it’s too early to make any concrete judgments on the acting. However, the Australian-isms of each character were quite full on, so much so, they almost became jarring and unnatural. This was especially true for the men and specifically the physicality of Le Marquand’s Roo. As the drama rose, his arms seemed to grow longer and it felt like he didn’t quite know what to do with them, leaving them hanging like tree branches with hands. The times where he pulled back and sat in the moments were far more engaging. McMahon had a very shaky start to the show with one pretty big hunk of text in particular. Watching it felt like witnessing a car wreck in slow motion as he struggled to stay on top of his nerves and text, but thankfully he managed to wade through it. McMahon warmed up as the show progressed and as I mentioned before, I gotta give the guys a break, it was opening night.
For me, it was the women who stole the show. Robyn Nevin’s Emma, Olive’s cranky yet ultimately wise mother, was pure gold. Only being a satellite character and potentially easily forgotten, Nevin grabbed every opportunity to fully realize the atypical 50s Aussie grandma. Everything down to the slightest movement, look or line was brilliant. I can’t wait to see her play Lear in the upcoming MTC production of
Queen Lear.
Helen Thomson’s Pearl was pitched perfectly, with a layered subtlety and at times hilarious vocal idiosyncrasies. While Alison Whyte’s Olive occasionally verged on melodrama, she held it back before it became too much. Her journey mapped out with precision and by the end of the piece it was impossible not to be moved.
It’s clear why
Summer of the Seventeenth Doll is considered to be one of our most historically significant pieces of theatre, but as much as I enjoyed the show, it’s clear it would have been far more profound during the time it was written. The drama is apparent and felt, but it seems held back and restrained and I couldn’t help but feel as if I was watching a movie length version of
The Sullivans. But in saying that, it’s a must see for lovers of the theatre and anyone who considers themselves Australian.
WORDS: Nick Jamieson