Version 1.0 production. The Canberra Theatre Centre. 1 Jun 2013
Some five or six years ago I recall having a conversation with my journalism lecturer about the hypothetical day when both the Liberal and Labor Party lose their relevance to Australian voters and other minor parties rise to prominence. By the blank look on her face at the time I assumed that she hadn’t entertained this possibility. Fast forward to 2013: Labor and Liberal are on the nose and everyone wants their own small slice of the party pie.
Perhaps it’s a reflection of our increasingly individualised and networked society where people can more freely express their specific social concerns and access those of similar persuasions to unite with, rather than settle for broader representation.
The question of who represents us in the political arena is the foundation of The Major Minor Party. Devised by Version 1.0 (Sean Bacon, Drew Fairley, Irving Gregory, James Lugton, Jane Phegan, Paul Prestipino, Chris Ryan, Yana Taylor and Kym Vercoe), this production explores Australia’s contemporary civil liberties issues through the prism of the Australian Sex Party (the self-declared major minor party) and contrasts their platform with those of the more conservative minor parties.
Interweaving direct quotes (“verbatim theatre”) from controversial political figures on censorship, marriage equality, abortion, sex education, secularism and voluntary euthanasia, The Major Minor Party distils, somewhat abstractly, where the arguments sit publicly on these essentially very private matters.
As a contribution to the Canberra Centenary celebrations taking place this year, the production also takes into consideration the role of Canberra as the backdrop for where many of these passionate discussions play out – with Parliament House’s rippling Australian flag a patriotic centrepiece of the show.
However, this isn’t a flowing tribute to Canberra. While the show begins with an earnest extract from a speech during the birth of Australia’s capital extolling the vision of the ACT as a noble harbinger of peace and prosperity for the nation, this sentiment is swiftly shattered with a lewd visual metaphor.
This could be interpreted as either implying Canberra’s political class have thoroughly bastardised these intentions, or alternatively, how much times have changed with the advent of collectives such as the Australian Sex Party.
While there is much compelling content in The Major Minor Party, the overall concept seems a little undercooked. In the process of trying to cover such tremendously complex ground the writers have inadvertently buried the lead, with the end result feeling rambunctiously disjointed. On reflection the intent of the production becomes clearer, however at the time it feels quite random.
The 90-odd minute running time could also have been more efficiently utilised, with some excessively drawn out moments in a number of the vignettes. In saying that, some of these awkwardly long and borderline surreal (think David Lynch) sequences did facilitate a good squirming amongst the audience while the performers unabashedly obliged them to percolate in some the most uncomfortable truths within the Australian political landscape.
Each member of Version 1.0 brought a brilliantly offbeat quality to the stage, with the overall humour so dry you needed lip balm and barrier cream. Their multiple roles were also highly nuanced yet purposeful, each lingering and leaving a lasting impression.
The cast were complemented by the innovative visual design by Sean Bacon, using the interactive video projection technique, which is becoming such a mainstay on sets, to transform and dramatise their surroundings. Equally the sound by Paul Prestipino added a whole new level of quirkiness to the mix, creating an unpredictable ambience that milked the most out of the performers and their script.
The Major Minor Party isn’t the most awe-inspiring piece of theatre you’re likely to see. However, despite its experimental, slightly clumsy translation from page to stage it does bring attention to some fundamentally important political issues. In the lead up to a Federal election, this is an opportunity to reflect on these before you cast your ballot.
Deborah Hawke
When: Closed
Where: The Canberra Theatre Centre
Bookings: Closed
