A heartfelt story examining the effects of poverty and gentrification in Sydney is rough around the edges, but resonates with London audiences.
The Sugar House was first performed in Sydney in 2018, but its story of how industrial heartlands have become gentrified and the effects of intergenerational trauma, resonates just as well with London audiences. The Australian accents aren’t too bad either.
The play follows Narelle Macreadie (Jessica Zerlina Leafe) as she attempts to navigate her place in modern-day Sydney society. She has grown up among the working classes near a factory in Pyrmont but is now working as a successful lawyer – the sort who can afford to buy one of the shiny new apartment conversions that now dominate the harbour.
In the first half, playwright Alana Valentine takes us back to when Narelle was a child living with her grandparents. Life in Pyrmont is difficult, homes are full of mould and leaks, but more than that, we are told that “being poor is dangerous” – no more apparent than in the frequent run-ins the family have with the law and its corrupt and unjust practitioners.
Valentine positions the narrative against the backdrop of the real-life case of Ronald Ryan, the last man hanged in Australia. The effect is gut-wrenching, as matriarch June (Janine Ulfane) can’t help draw parallels between Ryan’s fate and that of her son.
As the family holds a minute’s silence for Ryan’s hanging, old newsreel and retro films are projected on to the brick walls of the apartment. Justin Nardella and Sherry Coenen’s minimalistic set and lighting help to orient the audience’s focus on the act of silence, and the very real act of remembrance for a man who died at the hands of the state. This is only disrupted by Ellie Showering’s excellent use of radio interference and crackles, which produces an effect similar to tinnitus.
Violence often erupts on the stage as characters lash out against the unfairness of their situation. These bursts of anger are not always convincing, and can verge on the melodramatic, but they effectively reveal the deep-rooted pain and trauma the family has experienced over many generations.
The cast of six work well together and director Tom Brennan is careful not to let violence or "bad blood" overcome the love that the characters have for one another, giving the space for intimate moments between June and her husband Sidney (Patrick Toomey). Love is understated, shown through a lingering touch, or a silly song. Despite their desperate situation, they fight fiercely to get Narelle “educated and sophisticated and up and out of here”.
The second half feels less even, and isn’t as sure-footed as it approaches the present day. But its cyclical structure is satisfying. The Sugar House may be a little rough around the edges, but it has a strong heart and sparks thoughtful conversations about how our families shape the people we are today.
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