Blackwood Players Inc reimagine Gogol’s The Government Inspector, shifting the action from 19th-century Russia to an Australian outback town brimming with small-town politics, local corruption, and community quirks that will ring undeniably true to regional audiences. Terri Brabon’s adaptation proves how a classic text can be reborn in a distinctly Australian context — retaining its satirical bite while speaking directly to contemporary experience. Imperial bureaucracy is replaced by small-town power plays and property development; the humour becomes sharper, more colloquial, and culturally specific. Witty local references and Australian idioms give the satire a fresh edge. One standout line: “Corruption is like COVID. Nobody wants it. We all know it’s bad but we’ve learned to live with it.”
Having seen the play in its more traditional form, I’ve often noted that directors must choose whether to drive it as comedy first (audience laughter as the priority) or satire first (social critique as the priority). Greg Elliot’s direction here balances both, drawing on lived Australian experiences of “corruption” to amplify the social commentary while populating the stage with recognisable, quirky, small-town archetypes in place of Gogol’s bureaucrats. The script is strong, the comedy well-structured and accessible, and the whole experience is buoyed by live music woven neatly into the action.
The play demands pace, precision, and physical expressiveness from its cast, but opening night threw up challenges: one cast member was absent due to illness and another performed masked, clearly unwell but still audible. The actor reading in did an admirable job, yet the performance inevitably carried the impact of these last-minute changes. In the circumstances, the company pulled together impressively — delivering a clear story, genuine ensemble work, and plenty of laugh-out-loud moments.
Though space prevents me from naming everyone, a few performances deserve special mention. Damien White as The Gov propelled the first act with bags of energy. As the wealthy, corrupt property developer who controls the town, he charted a journey from commanding authority to desperate unravelling, ultimately meeting the downfall he deserved. Rebecca Gardener’s Anna — his formidable wife — was a delight, commanding her daughter, young Mishka, and Alex (Marcus Catt) with vigour and relishing every moment. Marcus brought youthful energy, physical confidence, and a bright, easy charm to Alex, perfectly matched by Fabiola Calderon’s fun and feisty flirtation. Calderon lit up the stage on entry and spirited Alex safely out of town — wallet full, consequences avoided — in a satisfying final beat of “robbing the robbers.”
Kenya Styles also deserves praise for elevating a supporting role into a standout turn. With the plot requiring constant message-running, interruptions, deliveries, and movement, Styles executed each moment with unwavering concentration and comic timing. Proof, as the saying goes, that there are no small parts — only small actors.
One aspect that drew the audience in from “curtain up” was the trio of narrators — part Greek chorus, part bush telegraph, part community watch — who reappeared in the final scene as the real Government Inspectors arrived to hold corruption to account. They gave the satire a constant hum of scrutiny and storytelling, driving the plot and colouring the world. Dhruva Nagaraj, Sara Azedagan, and Annie Gladdis stepped outside the main action to remind the audience who’s who, what’s at stake, and what just happened — all without breaking the momentum of the comedy.
The design was solid, with inventive set pieces, well-chosen props, and a steady flow of creative ideas. Working within the constraints of a fast turnaround in a multi-use space is never easy, and the team approached it with ingenuity. However, with the cast handling all scene changes, some transitions lacked the sharpness needed to match the play’s pace. A little more rehearsal in these moments would let the design elements shine as brightly as the concept behind them.
While much of the wit and spirit of The Government Inspector came through, the staging occasionally felt restrained. Straight-line formations flattened the stage picture, and pauses between cues broke the rapid-fire rhythm that farce relies on. These moments suggested a production still settling in, with room for greater variation in blocking and sharper cue pickups. The foundation, however, is strong — and with small adjustments, the comedy could soar even higher.
Overall, Blackwood Players’ The Government Inspector keeps the bones of Gogol’s plot — mistaken identity, spiralling lies, corrupt locals — but relocates it into a sharply observed Australian political microcosm. It’s a witty, well-performed, and aspirational piece of community theatre. I applaud the company’s ambition and the skill with which they’ve made this classic both relevant and regionally resonant.
