Commentary - 5 out of 5 stars
State Theatre Company South Australia
TICKETS: https://premier.ticketek.com.au/shows/Show.aspx?sh=COMMENT26
Ash Flanders’ Commentary explores difficult questions about responsibility, complicity and the power dynamics within the arts. The play reflects a contemporary culture in which artists are often expected to be morally exemplary, while recognising that people rarely live up to such idealised versions of themselves. Its characters struggle to reconcile their self-image, their aspirations and the ways they are perceived by others, asking whether these conflicting identities can ever be brought into harmony.
Commentary follows Nick Atkinson, a former filmmaker
who has become a Flinders University lecturer. Twenty years after his only
significant film, Low, was buried because his collaborator Hamish
was caught capturing footage of a teenage girl through her bedroom window, Nick
is invited to introduce a retrospective screening at the Adelaide Festival. He
has spent the past two decades portraying himself ashe responsible and
talented member of the creative partnership; as someone betrayed by another
person’s actions. Seeing this as an opportunity to reclaim control of the past,
Nick agrees to provide a director’s commentary, believing he can finally
present the story on his own terms. As the evening unfolds, however, his
carefully maintained version of events begins to break down, forcing him closer
to the uncomfortable possibility that his achievements—and his identity—were
never entirely his own.
Petra Kalive presents Nick Atkinson as a familiar kind of
charismatic, wounded man: intelligent, compelling and self-assured, yet deeply
invested in seeing himself as the injured party. Nick has spent years
constructing explanations that protect him from responsibility, turning his
disappointments into evidence that the world has treated him unfairly. Through the
commentary format, Nick guides the audience’s reactions and attempts to control
the meaning of events, while gradually exposing the weaknesses and elusions
within his story.
Gyton Grantley gives a compelling, finely controlled
performance as Nick. He captures Nick’s ability to charm an audience while
revealing the insecurity beneath his carefully constructed self-image. Grantley
is especially effective in the tension between Nick’s public certainty and
private unravelling, making his descent uncomfortable and utterly absorbing. He
makes Nick’s unravelling impossible to look away from.
Shardae Santos commands the stage with intelligence, strength and effortless authority, standing tall opposite Gyton Grantley and holding her own with eloquence and assurance. A simple costume change distinguishes Gen from Frankie, but Santos expands the transformation through subtle shifts in posture, mannerism and presence. She understands exactly how each character relates to Nick, giving both women a distinctive place within the play’s intricate web of power, loyalty and resentment.
Anna Steen brings precision, authority and formidable
clarity to every scene as Mish and Anna. She is tight, stern and marvellous in
her dual roles. As Nick’s wife, she conveys Mish’s clear-eyed independence and
refusal to be drawn further into his crisis; as the podcaster and journalist
covering the film commentary opportunity, she brings a sharp professional focus
and a perceptive understanding of Nick’s evasions. Steen gives both women
distinct energies while maintaining an incisive intelligence that cuts through
the play’s competing narratives.
Kate Cheel relishes the contrast between Clea and Saskia,
creating two sharply differentiated characters through her character choices
and physicality. As Nick’s quick-witted publicist, Cheel captures Clea’s skill
at managing his crises while hinting at the limits of her patience; as Saskia,
the imperious former star of Low, she is gloriously abrasive and
self-satisfied. Cheel’s performance gives both roles an irresistible theatrical
charge.
Ruby Patrich delivers a haunting performance through
presence, instinct and a deeply expressive gaze. Although she does not appear
live on stage, Patrich’s performance as Jessica is quietly catching. Seen only
in video footage recorded by Hamish, her body language and facial expressions
convey Jessica’s growing awareness that she is being watched and filmed. She
makes every reaction precise and revealing, turning stillness into a powerful
form of communication.
Matilda Woodroofe’s stage design is simple yet symbolically
potent. The audience looks through a stretch of windowpanes, with curtains
drawn and opened as needed, creating the sensation of peering in on the
action—particularly in the early scenes staged behind the glass. Each time a
curtain is closed, there is a noticeable pause, as though the character is
momentarily looking out the window. The glass divides and connects the playing
space, allowing scenes to unfold behind it, in front of it or simultaneously in
both areas to suggest different locations. Live video work further expands the
action, incorporating calls between Nick and Saskia and, later, footage
recorded on a mobile phone.
A special mention must also go to the stage crew, who become
silent, unofficial members of the ensemble through their regular appearances on
stage. Whether cleaning up Nick’s mess, attending to Saskia’s demands or
preparing the next scene, their visible presence adds another lively layer to
the production.
With its glass-panelled set, live video and performances
that skilfully balance discomfort with dark theatricality, Commentary is
a sharp and unsettling examination of the stories people construct to protect
themselves. It refuses easy answers, instead inviting audiences to question
where responsibility lies—and who gets to control the narrative. If this
production is any indication of what lies ahead, State Theatre Company South
Australia’s remaining season deserves a place on every theatre lover’s
calendar.
- Andrew Broadbent
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