Harvest

Four generations of Yorkshire pig farmers 'owting' and 'nowting'.
Matt Abotomey
Published on October 27, 2014

Overview

Written by One Man, Two Guvnors farce-spinner Richard Bean and directed by Louise Fischer, Harvest is about four generations of Yorkshire pig farmers struggling to keep their farm and put food on the table over the course of the 20th century. This might sound like staid material, but in an Australian theatrical landscape littered with countless rejiggings of Greek myths, Shakespeare and other classics, it’s rather nice that for this production at least, Hamlet’s aversion to physical labour appears to have gotten the better of him and Menelaus must have forgotten his wellies.

On the other hand, Harvest is also four generations of Yorkshire pig farmers ‘owting’ and ‘nowting’, with varying degrees of success over the course of two and a half hours. Conversation is dominated by pigs, paddocks and ploughing (with the occasional nod to procreation), and though there’s no shortage of wit, there are relatively few surprises and not quite enough plot to justify a time span of 90-odd years.

There are two constants in Harvest. The first is William Harrison (Jeremy Waters), a perennial scamp whose dream it is to oversee a thriving pig farm. With time’s passing, he transforms from a 20-year-old lad squabbling with his brother over which of them should fight in the First World War to a mischievous wheelchair-bound centenarian who still knows his way around a shotgun.

Waters’ performance is very well executed, retaining the roguish essence of his character despite significant physical transformations. Bishanyia Vincent’s Laura, who is also called upon to age 60 or 70 years, is equally impressive. A wonderfully sniffy performance is turned in by Peter Eyers, whose Lord Agar is a lurking toff attempting to reclaim the Harrisons’ farm, which his father lost in a bet many years ago.

The second constant is the modest sandstone cottage in which this large chunk of time passes. Bethany Sheehan has constructed the set with a great deal of care and detail; for every few decades that elapse, a small army of cast members march on in a blackout and age the house appropriately — linoleum covers the stone floor and a television takes the place of the wireless. The kitchen table, an ongoing joke due to the travesty of its positioning, remains, for the most part, exactly as is.

Harvest may not quite work as a generations-spanning epic, but there are several nice moments throughout and the cast work hard to keep it chugging along. Bean has chosen a difficult location for his play and is well aware of it. As a middle-aged William remarks in the second half, “Pig farms are known for their dangerous levels of excitement. We should put a sign up.”

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