Writer: Alana Valentine
Director: Tom Brennan
Is there any such thing as ‘bad blood’? Alana Valentine’s 2018 play The Sugar House, making its European debut at the Finborough Theatre, wonders if families can inherit criminality from one another. Set in Sydney primarily in 1967 and 1985 but also, briefly, 2007, the effects of organised crime and police corruption create a legacy for the Macreadie family living in a once colourful industrial district that loses its character and its reputation.
When Ollie Macreadie is stopped by police, he is asked to attend an interview at the station where an officer suggest he could lose the case file for $1000. Unable to pay, on the same day a man is hanged for a trumped-up crime, the Macreadie’s worry that Ollie will be next, but the consequences for the family and their troubled blood stretch into the next generation.
Valentine’s play promises too much with a context that feels rich in dramatic themes and possibilities including poverty, working class aspiration, gentrification and the social forces pitted against individuals looking to better themselves or at least live an untroubled life. But this overly padded drama, which is extremely dialogue heavy, never quite reaches the heights it aspires to, bogged down in sometimes turgid scenes that add very little to the overall shape and purpose of The Sugar House.
This is a play in which people argue almost solidly for 2.5 hours about the police, about their choices, their partners and even about which parent loves them the most. And while there is a lot of talking, much of it talks around key themes, sometimes repeating the same information to other characters, as happens in the superfluous tattoo parlour scene, or is tangential to the central plot like Margot’s cancer storyline. Much of what connects the characters is said rather than fully demonstrated so the Macreadies talk a lot about criminal gangs and the possibility of reprisals but there is too little jeopardy in Tom Brennan’s production to underscore the potential consequences.
As a female-led narrative, however, it is interesting to look at questions of legacy and influence through the female line and it is Nana June rather than protagonist Narelle who generates most interest, using the past to try to control and direct the future of her family name. Her own hidden secrets remain hidden however, including the family she left for her sugar factory husband and the betrayal of a criminal boss that makes her ever-alert. Yet, this should be the focus of the play instead of a couple of throwaway references and there is considerable potential in how she retains a stranglehold down the decades.
Played by Janine Ulfane, June is a powerful presence and while we see little character change, Ulfane takes control of the space. Jessica Zerlina Leafe gets to play several ages as Narelle and while her 8-year-old and eldest versions are convincing, the 26-year-old doesn’t quite fit as a sulky teenage-type. There is good support from Lea Dube, Adam Fitzgerald, Fiona Skinner and Patrick Toomey as the remaining Macreadies and in a variety of secondary roles that they make distinct with a small cast.
Despite the name, The Sugar House sets little of its action in the premises and even its shadow could be darker for a family emerging from an area with only one legitimate place of work; one that costs them as much as it gives. An interesting premiere of a contemporary Australian play but one that in its exploration of bad blood could be stronger yet.
Runs until 20 November 2021