Anaconda – Tamarama Rock Surfers

Overview

Inspired by real events, Sarah Doyle’s Anaconda poses the hypothetical question of how those implicated in a high school sex abuse case would live with their guilt as adults. The answer is, pretty poorly. One commits a homicide, others and their wives practice expert denial and one onlooker, Matty Buttiker (Damian de Montemas), tries to redress his past cowardice by offering unhelpful pro bono legal counsel.

Tom Bannerman and Lauren Brincat have designed a set of three large triangles in a row, which are neither pretty nor meaningful. They belong at Arq bar at Taylor Square, where some of the play is set, or in a '90s high school production of a Greek tragedy. Max Sharam’s sound design is filmic and mostly good but he misleadingly introduces the play in the opening sequence as some kind of thriller.

While Anaconda's main focus is atonement, Doyle’s writing and direction strays into some irksomely conservative territory, where homosexuality is on trial rather than the initial case of abuse. Matty’s wife, Bivva (Leeanna Walsman), is more horrified at the prospect of discovering gay porn magazines under her husband’s bed than that of living with injustice.

Walsman plays Bivva extremely well, and in her plea to Matty to drop the case, she delivers a compelling emotional collapse. But because this scene is so good, the play becomes a conventional domestic drama, in which the greatest injustice is Bivva’s loss of social standing. It's an ugly portrayal of upper-class Paddington 'professionals' that may not be too far off the mark.

Apart from this politically pongy scene, the rest of the play hangs together well and performances from Walsman, de Montemas and Simon Lyndon playing Phil Walker are on point. Martin Broome playing the flamboyant barman Tove is either pulling off an accurate portrayal of a very awkward man or he is a very awkward actor. At any rate his scenes are uncomfortable and his timidity contrasts well with the brashness of Bivva and Matty.

De Montemas’ performance is bold and clear, but he slips (presumably unintentionally) into a gruff Hollywood-blockbuster-trailer voice at times, particularly when talking legal options with Walker. It’s amusing but misplaced. Simon Lyndon playing Walker has a head of hair that would make Donald Trump weep; a devil-may-care presence and a voice like honey. They don’t make 'em like him anymore and you should see the play for his performance alone.

Image by Damon Wilder.