Concrete Playground Meets Ash Flanders of Trash-Theatremakers Sisters Grimm

Sisters Grimm do not make theatre the way you might usually think of theatre. The trashtastic Melbourne satirists (also known as Ash Flanders and Declan Green) staged their DIY 2010 theatre piece Little Mercy in a car park and 2012's Summertime in the Garden of Eden in a suburban garage — and got rave reviews for both. So much so that the anti-establishmentarians have gone establishment, in the nicest possible way, as the Sydney Theatre Company is bringing them out to reimagine Little Mercy, a high-camp ode to 'evil child' movies, for their Wharf 2 stage. (Summertime in the Garden on Eden, meanwhile, will get a run at Griffin Theatre in November).

Marcus Costello caught-up with Ash, who as well as writing and directing is playing the mother character Virginia, on his first day treading the boards at the Wharf. Here's what he had to say on stepping up to the main stage, the joys of the low-brow, and how they're adapting their "aesthetic of failure".

First day of rehearsals, how's it going?

We haven't stopped laughing that we’re actually here at STC.

Well it's a long way from where you gave birth to Little Mercy in a Melbourne car park all those years ago. How has the show changed since then?

Oh, you know, just little tweaks — like rewriting the whole show. Our shows are always staged in response to the space we're working in and the resources we have available, which is usually next to nothing. Our work ends up being an exercise in the aesthetic of failure, which is where much of the comedy comes from. Of course, being here [at STC] we can't just pretend we have no money so we're responding to the idea and construction of conventional theatre. In a way it's not that radical a departure because we're all about the interrogation of genre — finding the cracks, tearing it apart, and putting it back together. We like to see how much pressure something can take before it's completely unintelligible.

Stepping up to the main stage...

I like to think of it as STC stepping down [laughs].

Good call. In any case it's a collision of worlds. If you like it here and want to stick around, how is that going to affect your anti-establishment practice?

If we can get paid to do shows on big stages, great, but it was never really our aim to make it to this point at settle-in. I think we'll always do scratch shows because mixing up where we perform is really important to us. I mean, we'll ride this out and have fun along the way, but we won't get so big-headed that we'll stop performing in living rooms and backyard sheds, or car parks, even. By the same token, if performing in car parks to a bunch of our adoring friends was all we ever did, it wouldn't amount to much. We don't plan to play it safe.

A character at the centre of your play, Rodger, is a wealthy theatre director. Should we take that as a dig at the establishment?

Um, [laughs] oh I don't know how meta we want to get about that! I mean, yeah, his job, his taste comes across as increasingly ridiculous throughout the show. We needed a job where the husband/father could become totally engrossed in what he does. As we both know, directors can get way too involved with their own projects and stop seeing the world around them — maybe even fail to see their own child is a psychotic killer.

You say that the goal of your theatre is to make the audience laugh. I reckon your gritty-camp shtick might rankle with some of the more conservative STC season subscribers, don't you think?

We don't intend to shock them too much. I mean, we won't be flopping our dicks out. In a way, our comedy is kind of old-fashioned. A man in a dress isn't new, but what we do with it hopefully is new and interesting and funny. At least we hope so because we think laughter in the theatre is vital. If you go to the theatre to take your medicine, to eat something that's good for you, then you've killed a lot of the joy. I don't like to go to the theatre to be educated. Dialectical, polemical, preachy theatre, theatre where the performers blast their politics at you, that doesn't inspire me. At least, if I learn something I want it to be incidental to the laughs. And if it's not making me laugh, it should make be gasp. Whatever is does, it needs to make me feel something.

There are a number of Australian theatre-makers at the moment who set out to hurt feelings and sensibilities. How do you feel about that?

Oy vey! That's not something we would deliberately set out to do. Our kind of humour can be quite hoary and hokey but I think if anything was going to offend, especially the STC audience, it would be the stupid jokes — because we would offend their intelligence [laughs]. I'm not playing Virginia for a joke, but every time I get on stage there will be laughter for a good five seconds.

That's interesting because you're not unknown to the Melbourne drag scene. How does it feel having an audience laughing at you not with you?

I'm totally fine with it. It’s not my job to know why people are laughing, it's really not. I'm happy with laughs wherever they’re derived from. I'm just not that precious; I'm aware of the grenade that I am.

Little Mercy is on at the Sydney Theatre Company's Wharf 2 from March 7 to 24. Tickets are available from their website.