Five Sydney Plays to See (and Reflect on) This September

Well, this sounds entirely delightful. The Bookbinder comes to Belvoir from Trick of the Light Productions, a small New Zealand outfit who appear to specialise in puppetry, modelmaking and reaffirming the existence of magic.

A chap who has made his living binding books is after a new apprentice. He’s pretty sure there’s one in the audience, but they need to be made of strong stuff. You see, the last boy who wanted to become his apprentice was sent on a quest and we’re not entirely sure what happened to him. Whether we’ll find him or be gobbled up by monsters is anyone’s guess.

If you hadn’t gathered already, this is theatre aimed at a younger audience. But as a joyful, simple and complete diversion from the broken-down shitfight of adult life, it might be just the ticket you need.

With all of us madly trying to figure out whether Siri will have learned how to do our jobs in five years, Katherine Thomson’s Diving for Pearls is a darkly comic reminder that this has all happened before. It wasn’t pretty then and there’s precious little reason to believe this time will be any better.

Set in the 1980s, when economic rationalism was gutting small towns right across Australia, Diving for Pearls follows Barbara and Den, two residents of Port Kembla. Until recently, the town revolved around its steelworks. But with those jobs heading overseas, it’s all starting to get a bit desperate. Barbara’s got her sights on a job in one of the town’s new resorts. Den, a now-redundant steelworker, has little time and less experience to manage the tricky transition to a new job. Amongst the dull horror of it all lands Verge, Barbara’s daughter, back for a visit. Perfect timing.

The devastation of recession in the ’80s may have faded from memory, but the good folk at Griffin Theatre have felt it coming round again. Perhaps check your super and join a union before heading into this one. It’s that bleak.

Even if you’re reading this on a device, it’s probably about this point in the article (I don’t take it personally) that you’ve started groping around absentmindedly for your secondary gadget – a mobile, tablet, whatever, as your attention span announces that it’s finished grazing here and is ready to migrate to the next digital savannah. In part, this behaviour is driven by a glut of choice. But what if you were using it as a way to deal with your child disappearing?

Darlinghurst Theatre’s latest show tells the story of Theresa, CEO of the company responsible for creating the Drum, a device which is leaving the iPhone in the dust. When her daughter vanishes while they’re on holiday, Theresa finds herself bereft of one of the only meaningful human connections she has. Initially, social media is purely a means for Theresa to find her daughter. But gradually she finds it becoming something more. Not a replacement, necessarily. A bridge, perhaps. But why am I telling you this? It seems ironic to not just give you the link.

It was just a matter of time, really. Belvoir’s new artistic director has been rummaging through the canon again and come across Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts. Eamon Flack will direct his own adaptation of the work with a cast that includes Pamela Rabe, Colin Moody and Robert Menzies.

Captain Alving has kicked the bucket. Mrs. Alving couldn’t be happier about this, owing to the Captain being a serial adulterer and inviting quite a bit of scandal round for tea. Fearful that their son Oswald might take after his father, Mrs. Alving sent him away to France, but now she wants him back. When he returns, she’ll come to realise how the sins of the father have been preying on Oswald since birth.

Even adapted, Ibsen plays are always total shame parties. If you’ve any moral decadence in your bones, purge yourself of it now. If not, you risk having it guilt-flogged out of you by the 19th century’s master of the dirty secret in the Upstairs Theatre this month.

Someone’s got to say it – we’re into the back end of the year and unless you are completely shameless about getting sozzled come the silly season, there’s a good chance you’re staring down the barrel of a few awkward festive gatherings. You know the ones – where all of your acquaintances have mysteriously vanished and you spend the night grinding out awkward conversations with coworkers/relatives/friends of friends that you’re pretty sure you’d hate, if only you knew them well enough.

Lucky for you, the Sydney Theatre Company are here to provide some catharsis in the form of Moira Buffini’s Dinner, a twisty, nasty comedy that’s likely to see somebody walk away with a fork in their eye.

Paige isn’t thrilled to be celebrating her husband’s new book, but she throws a damn good party and it’s a chance to rub shoulders with some C-list personalities. With a few schemes lined up to keep the night interesting, the one thing Paige hasn’t planned for is an unexpected guest.

Acerbic, slippery and with a liberal serving of spite accompanying each course, this is a perfect study in the pitfalls of forced politeness.