Living in a sharehouse – it can either be horrifying, or the best thing you’ll ever do in your life. Despite my previous misgivings about shared living, I am now firmly pro-sharehouse, with some delightful housemates I am proud to call my family-away-from-family who love to do cute things like Sunday night dinners and keeping the kitchen clean. Something about living with near-strangers can be quietly special, and Lachlan Stevenson and Stacks On Theatre’s new Australian play, For the Time Being, has captured it.
Stevenson writes and directs a clever, big-hearted “dead-end comedy” that follows a day in the life of four twenty-something housemates. Pat (also Stevenson) and Jack (James Thomasson) are goofy party boys, who steal tea bags, smoke cigarettes in their pyjamas and cause trouble. The shy housemate Gordy (a perfectly dorky Harlee Timms) has a forbidden crush on Vive (Brittany Santariga), who in turn is very loudly and consistently having sex with her new, no-shirt-wearing boyfriend Johnny (Kyle Barrett). It’s in the spirit of beloved tv sitcoms like New Girl, but with an Australian twist.
...a snapshot of the temporary, and deep, bonds that can only come from sharing a house with someone
The action takes place on the front balcony of a quirky old house, complete with a leadlight window facing into the kitchen, a slamming screen door, a surprisingly tall Yucca plant and a dilapidated navy couch. We open (brilliantly) on a very rough-looking and sunglassed Jack, silently venturing out on the balcony to the sweet sounds of ‘The Blue Danube’ waltz and Vive’s rhythmic moaning. Next comes Pat and Gordy, and the three boys drink their tea and endure the sounds of Vive and Johnny’s “pleasure”. They pontificate on the age-old question – how do you tell your housemate that their sex is too loud? And do they really need to do it every bloody morning?
The sound design (also by Stevenson) accentuates the comedy in his already musical writing. Musical interludes like that of the opening scene, and Gordy’s private dance party to Chris Norman and Suzi Q’s ‘Stumblin’ In’, bring a varied (and ear-wormy!) sense of silliness to the boys’ witty and dramatic repartee. Thomasson and Stevenson have great chemistry as the comic relief, and equally in the tender moments when they express their housemate-love for each other. Barrett is perfect as the ridiculous himbo we wish we didn’t know, who wears a very see-through sarong to the shops and just wants Vive to be happy. Santariga does her best with a somewhat underdeveloped character in Vive, who takes on the role of responsible housemate (who just so happens to be the only woman) without much of a chance for shared tenderness.
At a tight 50 minutes, the play’s action ramps up quickly. We go from morning coffee, to Vive reminding the boys that the house needs to be cleaned, to a definitely-not-quiet (but very entertaining) “couple of beers” in what seems like minutes. Then, all of a sudden, the house is not cleaned in time for an inspection and they are all forced to move out. Some extra time to develop the relationships between the housemates and the reasoning behind the move-out would not go astray here – and with Stevenson’s otherwise well-paced comedic writing, I can only imagine it’d be just as enjoyable as the rest.
For the Time Being is a snapshot of the temporary, and deep, bonds that can only come from sharing a house with someone. My housemate and I wandered down the street afterwards full of love for each other, as I showed her pictures of my housemates' past that looked a lot like Vive, Gordy, Pat and Jack.
With some lovable characters, fantastic moments of physical comedy and witty dialogue, it’s the perfect feel-good weeknight treat. Bonus points to you for taking your housemates along to a tiny little hidden theatre/gallery in Camperdown, and showing them a great time for less than $30.
For The Time Being is playing at Flow Studios, Camperdown, until April 14, 2023. Tickets can be purchased for $20-$30 over here.