The Sovereign Wife – Sisters Grimm

Overview

Queer theatre company The Sisters Grimm have displayed their trashtastic aesthetic in shows with names such as Fat Camp and Cellblock Booty. Now they're marching into the heartland of Australian history, and into the heart of the Melbourne arts precinct in the MTC theatre, with The Sovereign Wife.

It sounds like a classic enough tale — the story of a plucky Irishwoman who comes with her husband to the Ballarat Goldfields and under the rigours of colonial life becomes hardened, morally compromised and ultimately transformed. In the hands of the Sisters Grimm, this saga of frontier struggle become a wild romp, an exuberant parody of historical melodrama, with a bent sense of humour that underscores every element of the production.

Gags fly thick and fast and contemporary pop culture intrudes at will. The design has a cobbled-together homespun feel, while the performances are outrageous.  There are dances, songs and (naturally) a rave sequence. Gender, race and age are completely fluid. There are girls in fake beards and men in frocks. A Chinaman is played by a white guy, a black man by an Asian woman, a white woman by a black man. Cultural stereotypes are appropriated, then blurred and jumbled into a risible mess that mocks the very concept of stereotyping.

There’s hilarity galore but underscoring it is a fiercely intelligent interrogation of the Australian identity. All the gender-switching and jumbling of racial stereotypes serves a purpose. Identity is presented as a muddled construct and the symbolic connection to the national psyche is clear. This is at its most salient in the character of the Sovereign Wife herself, who is played by a different performer in each of the three acts, the changes in casting reflecting the development of her character through time and hardship.

For all the madcap trappings, for much of the show the story arc is that of classic tragedy and there is considerable narrative force keeping the circus moving. The vision of Australia that forms is unsettling, too uncomfortably close to the bone to be presented in any form other than comedy perhaps.

The script, by head sisters Declan Greene and Ash Flanders (who also appears in the play, including one act as the Wife) has lavish helpings of wit and not a skerrick of shame. The diverse and energetic cast give the performance everything. If camp’s your thing, you’ll love the pants off it. If it’s not, well the Sisters might yet win you over. However, it is a very long show. By the third act, it’s starting to run out of storyline and some of the later scenes become stretched to the point of self-indulgence. It never fails to be amusing, though, and ultimately pulls together for an exuberant finale.

The Sovereign Wife is also the finale to the NEON festival and it’s exactly the brash, outlandish, fabulous bang the festival deserves to end on.   Hurrah, Sisters Grimm, hurrah!