We on the affirmative team contend that taking a high school debating tournament, making feminism the topic of discussion and turning it all into a play is a recipe for a fascinating night of theatre.
This will be the third year in a row that Trophy Boys is running in Melbourne, following sold-out seasons at La Mama in 2022 and fortyfivedownstairs in 2023. This time around, the dark drag extravaganza is playing at Arts Centre Melbourne’s Fairfax Studio from July 16-21. Melbourne tickets range from $25-55 and you can get yours here.
Read on for our Time Out Sydney reviewer's five-star take on the recent Sydney run of Trophy Boys.
If you had asked me what I thought the next canonical Australian text would be before I watched Trophy Boys, I certainly wouldn’t have pegged a play that features a sign boldly emblazoned with the words “Feminism has failed women” set against a backdrop of portraits of “powerful women leaders”. (Jacinda Ardern, Rosa Parks, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Malala Youzafi and Grace Tame are accounted for, to name a few.) And yet, with this hilariously profound production, Trophy Boys proves that a provocative and unexpected approach can pay off handsomely.
We are introduced to a gang of four private school boys from the fictional Saint Imperium College as they strut into a classroom with the kind of boisterous raucousness that can only come from teenage boys. However, these aren’t your average young men – this queer black comedy features an all-women and non-binary cast serving masculine drag.
Trophy Boys is a masterful play that I hope we will continue to see not only in theatres, but in future school curricula.
Trophy Boys makes its Sydney debut after receiving rave reviews in Melbourne for three years running, and it's an overdue homecoming of sorts for playwright Emmanuelle Mattana, who was inspired by spending their adolescence working their way through Sydney’s competitive debating scene (which is a very real thing, we’re told). It is a world that director Marni Mount is also intimately familiar with.
Over a tight 70-minute runtime, we witness the boys prepare to go toe-to-toe with their sister school in the Interschool Debating Grand Finals. Owen (played by Mattana) is the politically and rhetorically-astute leader of the group, who brainstorms with Jared (Fran Sweeney-Nash), Scott (Gaby Seow) and David (Leigh Lule). Their topic: “Feminism has failed women”. And yes, they are the affirmative team. What starts as a comically executed, pseudo-intellectual discussion (featuring a strip-tease to Pretty Ricky’s ‘Grind With Me’) is interrupted by an unfortunate revelation that unites the boys more than ever.
The camp sensibility of the drag element brings a cathartic dignity to the proceedings, recentering women and femme-presenting people despite their absence in the plot. The choice to dress the cast in understated private school blazers underscores the sharpness of the satire – is the boys’ exaggerated toxic behaviour a hyperbolic echo of the way that drag kings would traditionally lampoon masculinity, or is it a true reflection of the status quo?
The cast’s ability to riff and perform with the verbose language that the script demands is exceptional. Mattana, Sweeny-Nash and Seow thrust their way into an unwavering performance. Lule is also strong, but at times struggles to match the confidence of her fellow cast members. However, this is redeemed in the third act, where Lule crescendos in a moving monologue that is delivered with such raw sincerity that the line between actor and character begins to blur.
The success of the show is hinged on Mattana’s meticulously crafted script, which skilfully employs dense teenage humour, witty jests and laugh-out-loud moments as it dresses down systems of power and privilege. The syntactic choice to use obtuse “woke” internet-era language echoes a greater dissonance in our society. We speak with no empathy, and paint with language which has no meaning to us.
But don’t mistake the play’s humour and pseudo-intellectualisation for a lack of heart. Mattana’s writing skillfully balances the comedy with a much darker conversation, which creates scenes of tension that culminate effortlessly into the play’s unnerving ending.
Overall, Trophy Boys is a masterful play that I hope we will continue to see not only in theatres, but in future school curricula. This show reminds us that whilst immortality may be imaginary for these boys – and by extension, to many men – in most instances, their immunity to the consequences of their actions is not.