Review: Which Way Home
Which Way Home is a funny, touching and richly layered play. If you get the chance to see it, you may just find yourself wishing you’d booked tickets for the next night too.
Road trips are a great format. Characters travelling from a to b (frequently with a time pressure), spending hours in close proximity in a vehicle (perfect for intimate discussions, reflections and revelations). The landscape is often an important ‘character,’ and reaching the destination can be a moment of catharsis or revelation. Unsurprisingly, road trips are often used in films or television but, as the Ilbijerri Theatre production Which Way Home demonstrates, it can also be used to create great theatre.
Writer and actor Katie Beckett, has produced a clever work using this established format to great effect (with the support of Jane Bodie, dramaturge). The 65-minute play incorporates fragmented conversations, quiet times of reflection, and episodic ‘flashbacks’—complete with references to the which-came-first-chicken-or-egg debate, individual and shared memories of childhood experience, and nagging about the consumption of sweets and the latest boyfriend.
Tash (Katie Beckett) has “only got the weekend off” for a trip back to Country with her father (Kamahi Djordon King). Having grown up in a Queensland town, Tash expresses concerns as to whether “the mob” will recognise her. But perhaps there is something more than just a concern about being welcome, or recognised—suggested in her opening “Step one: Always add an extra hour before departure to avoid being late.” As the play unfolds, there are references throughout to lists, steps, plans, and schedules—coping mechanisms which include Dad’s repeated “Open. Listen. Breathe.”
The versatile Djordon King has what can only be described as the gift of a part: the ‘daggy dad’ (gambling, eating sweets, thinking tv characters are ‘real’, wearing a toupee) who clearly adores his daughter. The audience connected with his challenges as a single parent, felt a sense of the pain of his being alone, and enjoyed his protective pride in his daughter (the great shared memories of his rescuing her on the beach from knee-high water). But it was Beckett who held the show in her hand, and captivated the audience as the daughter who seeks to find out more about her mother (with so many unanswered questions her father finds too painful to discuss)—recalling childhood memories of time with her dad, of her mum, and even of a wonderfully-recreated ‘Nan’ (who took her to the ‘fancy side of town’ and shopping at Target Country).
Great direction (Rachael Maza) and a set that works really well (Emily Barrie). I loved the simplicity of the map and the use of the tea chests. No unnecessary steering wheel manipulation was a bonus, and just wait until you see the driving on gravel road. The show was beautifully lit (Niklas Pajanti), which was particularly important with the steady pour of sand onto the stage.
The continuing flow of sand is a vital allusion to many of the issues raised in this play—an hourglass reference to mortality and the passing of time, and a reference to the importance of Country and connection. As Beckett observes, “the past is always with us.” Beautifully crafted, the play is a clever weaving together of past and present, demonstrating how time is not always a linear journey from a to b (past-present-future), but can also be circles and layers of memory, stories, and experience (the past in the present). The show is funny, touching, and occasionally powerful. Definitely worth an hour of your time.
Verdict: Great writing, and a funny and sometimes touching show.
Audience tip: Make sure you arrive early; the Visy Theatre is an intimate space and you will disturb other members of the audience if you arrive after the lockout period starts. Unreserved seating with doors opening 15 minutes before the Show so pick up a drink to take into the space. Parental Advisory (website suggests 15+): Some strong language and adult themes. 65 minutes (no interval). The Show is almost at the end of a national tour (ends 18 August 2018), with a short run at Brisbane’s Powerhouse (8-11 August 2018, 7:00pm each evening plus a 2:00pm matinee on 11th August). Tickets and information via the Brisbane Powerhouse website or at the Box Office ($49 Full, $35 Concession. Note: Additional $5.95 transaction fee).
Catherine Lawrence
The reviewer attended the Thursday 9 August 2018 performance.