The premiere of Jane Harrison’s Stolen marks the second production of this poignant play from Sydney Theatre Company in less than twenty years. The performance, directed by Ian Michael, stays true to Harrison’s work while evolving the play for a new generation. However this generation, albeit more cognisant of the truth of Stolen Generations, may be unaware of the extent of the hurt and trauma, which Michael effectively centres on here.
The play focuses on the lives of five Indigenous children who have been forcibly removed and sent to live in a children’s home. Each child's life diverges as teenagers and young adults, as they begin to cope with the aftermath of being removed from their families and their culture in their own way.
This production takes a powerfully eerie approach, opening with a focus on Renée Mulder's simple but effective set design, featuring an oversized filing cabinet and a single dingy, institutional iron bed. The abnormally large size of these props creates a nightmarish spectacle. This effect is amplified when each character enters against a backdrop of silence, which is abruptly broken as they plead to the audience for any information about their parents.
This gut-wrenching opening scene is an incredibly impactful choice.However, it also sets a high bar for the remainder of the play to keep pace with, and the chilling opening is also heavily relied on for expressing the extent of the horror and cruelty these children experience. This production employs a non-linear progression of events, which at times can make it hard to distinguish timelines, and whether we are meeting the characters as children or as adults. Without the aid of the program, it would be easy to assume that there are seven or eight scattered stories, rather than five. The lack of congruency in distinguishing between each story leads to jarring pacing, disrupting the audience’s temporal continuity. This is further exacerbated by the random and comedic musical interlude played to the tune of ‘We’re Happy Little Vegemites’ – which feels awkwardly out of place.
Despite some of these struggles, a special mention must be made to Megan Wilding (as Shirley) and Jarron Andy (as Jimmy). Wilding can do no wrong, her vulnerability emanates from every syllable and action executed. Every scene graced by Wilding’s presence sparkles with brilliance, and her absence leaves a palpable void. Andy also provides a heartbreaking spectacle of the longing for love by a child. In the adoption selection scenes, all other characters appear to fade into the background as Andy conveys his desire for love and family without nary a word.
However, the emotion evoked in Andy’s early scenes isn’t felt again until near the end of the play. His raw monologue – delivered while standing on top of the filing cabinet during one of his final appearances – is performed with such ferocity that it electrifies the audience, leaving us breathless and fully engaged in his struggle.
Trent Suidgeest’s lighting design is a standout. From the harsh, glaring light, which showcases the scrutiny the children are under when being selected for adoption, to the projection of images and letters to showcase the impact on families, and to the warm hand-held lamps whose soft golden glow expresses both an impending sense of despair and disillusionment. Suidgeest’s lighting becomes the crutch that the production relies on – a standout moment beings the fantastic use of silhouettes, which makes the emotional weight of each character’s performance more visceral.
Much like Andy, the final scene does provide some redemption for the production’s more wobbly choices. In the last moments, a recording of Kevin Rudd’s National Apology speech echoes through the theatre. Rudd’s words appear hollow and empty against the microcosm of hurt witnessed within the play, let alone in actuality. It serves as a clear message of hypocrisy, as the characters hold up a banner with the words: “Sorry means you don’t do it again”. The Stolen Generation never ended, it’s just now framed under the guise of child protection laws.
Stolen is an important play, whose message serves as an important reminder of our nation’s cruel history and continued failures. Although the play feels more like a segment of vignettes that rely heavily on lighting tricks, there are moments of emotional depth that capture the varied, complex and continuing struggles of First Nations peoples.
Stolen plays at STC's Wharf 1 Theatre, Walsh Bay, until July 6. Tickets cost between $40-$125 and you can snap them up over here.