Griffin Theatre cares about new writing – so much so it’ll charge a little extra for the program, and instead of getting a cast list and a few words on the play, you get the whole darn play. It’s long been one of Griffin’s best features, and never better value than with Angus Cerini’s The Bleeding Tree, a seething and poetic text that is perfectly attuned to modern Australia.
Three women – a mother and her daughters – greet the man of the house home one night with a shotgun blast to the neck. Having rid themselves of the abusive monster, they must quickly work out how to rid themselves of both the body and the intrusive questioning of their neighbours.
Artistic director Lee Lewis has gathered three leading ladies to tread the Griffin boards and each is as powerful as the last. The most experienced of the three, the mother (Paula Arundell) is one of the fiercest actors I’ve seen on a Sydney stage, taking to the visceral wordplay of Cerini’s text like a dancer to new steps. Airlie Dodds’ naivety and Shari Sebbens’ brutish insistence make for excellent play between the two daughters, emphasised by their perfectly recreated sibling rivalry. The trio makes for a very believable family, and stretch to including three additional characters, clearly defined, without adding new bodies to the stage; each new arrival brings with them a wave of tangible tension.
Lewis, a fan of the incline stage since 2011’s Silent Disco (if not before), has employed Renée Mulder’s intriguing design to full effect without making the set feel gimmicky. Milo tin light fixtures on the floor and subtle shifts in Verity Hampson’s clean lighting design keep the focus on the faces of Lewis’ cast, who maintain their stress levels with the kind of commitment last seen from Robyn Nevin in Barrie Kosky’s Women Of Troy. With its sandpaper texture, it must be a thrilling set to walk barefoot.
And then there’s the text. While the play feels uniquely Australian in the hands of this cast and crew, the language feels like it could take place almost anywhere. Unforgiving, unrelenting and profoundly lyrical, Cerini has crafted an extraordinarily black comedy that could not be more relevant to our times. Considering the domestic violence statistics in this country – with 55 women killed this year alone – this tale of just vengeance is like a salve over an open wound that stings with its healing power.
A play of blistering intensity, brutal humour and Grand Guignol levels of catharsis, realised with crystalline clarity – this is the kind of show all Australian stages should strive to emulate.
5/5 stars
The Bleeding Tree is playing at SBW Stables Theatre until Saturday September 5.
