This is a heartbreaking, human story anchored by compassion and courage.
In The Whale, playwright Samuel D. Hunter invites us into the life of a man drowning in his own body, regrets, and grief. The University of Adelaide Theatre Guild’s latest production, directed by Geoff Brittain, doesn’t flinch from this difficult material. Instead, it delivers an experience that is intimate, challenging, and quietly transcendent.
At its centre is Charlie, a reclusive online English teacher who has grown to 600 pounds and is slowly eating himself to death. As his health declines, he makes a final attempt to reconnect with his estranged daughter Ellie, a bright but volatile teenager whose rage masks deep hurt. Around them orbit Liz, a nurse and devoted friend; Thomas, a young missionary searching for his own salvation; and Mary, Charlie’s ex-wife, still tethered to the past by grief and love.
Geoff Brittain’s direction is both brave and tender. He resists sensationalism, allowing the story’s moral and emotional truths to emerge organically. Brittain understands that The Whale is not a play about obesity—it is a play about isolation, redemption, and the stubborn persistence of hope.
Staging the work in the University’s Little Theatre—a compact, intimate space—was inspired. The venue’s closeness amplifies the claustrophobia of Charlie’s world. The audience sits within arm’s reach of his suffering and humanity, unable to look away. It’s theatre at its most confronting and compassionate.
The set effectively captured Charlie’s confined world, its realism both claustrophobic and poignant—though the abundance of fast-food detritus occasionally felt a little over-engineered. The full-body fat suit, crafted by Gillian Cordell and Sandy Faithfull, was sensational: a technically and emotionally integral part of the experience that enhanced realism without distracting from Wiseman’s deeply human portrayal. Despite occasional bleed-through from a nearby rock band, the cast’s focus and emotional truth held the audience completely.
This production of The Whale delivers a quietly devastating study of love, loss, and forgiveness, brought to life by an exceptional ensemble who approach the material with honesty and heart. Sam Wiseman gives a deeply compassionate performance as Charlie, grounding the play in tenderness and truth. His restraint and warmth allow the audience to see beyond the character’s isolation to the humanity beneath. Annie Matsouliadis shines as Liz, balancing weary humour and fierce loyalty; her scenes crackle with authenticity and care. Liam James brings gentle sincerity to Elder Thomas, capturing the character’s nervous idealism and hidden guilt with touching vulnerability. Tianna Cooper is outstanding as Ellie—sharp, intelligent, and heartbreakingly raw. Her energy injects both conflict and hope into the story. Jessica Merrick, as Mary, offers a beautifully textured performance full of regret and reluctant affection, giving the play’s emotional resolution its weight and grace. Together, this cast achieves what The Whale demands of its performers: courage, compassion, and connection. The result is a powerful, human piece of theatre that lingers long after the final moment—tender, truthful, and profoundly moving.
In the spirit of the play, where Charlie pleads for honesty, I will indeed “write something honest.” Across my lifetime, I’ve seen hundreds of theatrical productions—from small regional stages to major companies in London, Manchester, and Sydney. Too often, I’ve left disengaged—sometimes due to poor direction, limited rehearsal, or performances lacking depth or unity. But I can say with absolute confidence that this was not the case here. Written with profound humanity by Samuel D. Hunter and skilfully directed by Geoff Brittain, this production demonstrates what happens when vision, understanding, and execution align seamlessly. Every performance feels lived-in; every moment carries purpose and truth.
Forgive me for drifting into broader reflection but this experience answers an important question: what can theatre truly offer an audience? We go to the theatre to see humanity laid bare—to witness truth, pain, and hope in their rawest forms. This production draws us in because it confronts isolation, shame, love, and redemption with unflinching honesty. It reminds us that theatre doesn’t exist to help us escape life, but to face it—to feel empathy for those we might overlook, to find beauty in brokenness, and to recognise that every person carries a story worth understanding. In its vulnerability, The Whale reveals the power of forgiveness, the weight of connection, and the possibility of change—both on stage and within us. Theatre, at its best, transforms us. And this production did exactly that. The audience’s reaction was palpable: shared silence, tears, and a collective stillness that lingered long after the lights dimmed.
The University of Adelaide Theatre Guild’s The Whale is a triumph of honesty and humanity. It’s theatre that asks for empathy and offers it in return. Within the Little Theatre’s confined space, the boundaries between audience and story dissolve—we don’t just watch Charlie’s journey; we share it.
This was a fully realised ensemble production, supported by a team of highly skilled and creative technicians, masterfully led by its director. It’s a production I will not forget—one that succeeds on every level and leaves a profound, lasting impact on its audience.
A quietly devastating night at the theatre—one that will stay with you long after you leave The Cloisters.
Thank you.
Photo credit: Richard Parkhill
