“God never had one. Mary had one.” These words still linger in my mind after seeing Red Phoenix’s latest offering in Sophie Treadwell’s Machinal. Treadwell uses an expressionist, and at times, almost absurdist style, to tell the story of Helen, who, trapped in the monotonous rhythm of domestic life and yearning for liberation from the societal shackles women are born into, frees herself by killing her husband, inspired by the true story of Ruth Snyder. With Michael Eustice at the helm, Red Phoenix have constructed a gripping and powerful production of this harrowing story.
From the start, it is clear Eustice has carefully crafted this production every step of the way. In his director’s notes, he uses words like “mechanical, indifferent” and “unsettling,” to describe how they intended to present Helen’s distorted experience of the world, and this vision was certainly realised. Richard Parkhill’s lighting design creates harsh contrast between shadow and light, mirroring the bleak and cold world Helen finds herself in, and Sean Smith’s sound design, often combining the mechanical sounds of a factory with the quiet tunes of 1920’s jazz creates an eerie, numbing feeling. There are minimal props, and the set mainly consists of black drama blocks, reflecting the dullness of Helen’s life, which are cleverly manipulated to move us between settings, and are used to maximum effect in the final two scenes. I would normally be the first to complain about being made to watch elaborate scene changes, but in this production, they simply felt an essential part of the mechanical rhythm of the play and enhanced, rather than detracted from, the audience’s immersion.
Admittedly, the first act, at times, feels slow in pace, but this, perhaps, was intentional, as the audience are better allowed to experience the dulling doldrums of Helen’s life and witness her silenced suffering, and is clear we are building towards something – and the second act does not disappoint. The gears of the mechanism start to turn faster, the hum becomes louder and it becomes impossible to block out.
The cast worked like a well-oiled machine. They were highly focused, synchronised and all committed to their purpose, with not a weak link among them. The ensemble, comprised of Trevor Anderson, James Grosser, Lisa Lanzi, Laura Antoniazzi, Sophie Livingston-Pearce, Stuart Pearce, Leighton Vogt, Sharon Malujlo, Nic Betts and Steven Marvanek, played a plethora of roles across the nine episodes. Standouts included Pearce’s measured delivery of a defence lawyer and Antoniazzi’s smooth portrayal of the Telephone Girl, who, as a woman who has accepted and adjusted to her lot in life, provided a clear contrast with Helen. All cast involved in the typing pool in the opening scene are to be commended too for their unwavering commitment to maintaining the never-ending rhythm that set the tone for the performance. Matt Houston is excellent as the plain and somewhat off-putting Jones, husband to Helen, engendering sympathy for her from the audience and somehow creating tension even when acting out a simple domestic routine.
But the beating heart of this play – not the engine, as she is not part of the machine but rather trapped inside it – is Kate van der Horst as Helen (credited as Young Woman). She performs with conviction and desperation that grips you from the start as Helen squirms against the rigid limitations of her unkind world. Van der Horst does not hold back for a single moment, perfectly finding the meaning in Helen’s ramblings and refusing to let the audience look away from her suffering, and demonstrates her impressive versatility when she delivers her brief moments of happiness with beautiful sincerity and softness. In the final two scenes, van der Horst’s portrayal is nothing short of harrowing and her cries reverberate in the theatre longer after the curtain falls. This is a highly demanding role but she far exceeds those demands and ensures the audience hears Helen amongst all the noise.
Eustice and Red Phoenix are to be commended for tackling a play of this nature and reminding Adelaide audiences that realism and naturalism are not the only ways to tell a serious story. This production leans into the expressionist style, using its circular dialogue, episodic storytelling, ever-changing company of characters and minimalist visuals to their advantage with an intention to both put the audience off-kilter and draw them into Helen’s experience – and it worked, evident by the rapt audience on opening night.
Red Phoenix Theatre Company’s bold production of Sophie Treadwell’s Machinal is compelling and provoking, and, with a strong cast and unified vision across all elements of the production, is impossible to ignore.
