The Governor's Family, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3 - 30 June-17 July

 

When I saw it in 1997, "The Governor's Family" seemed to me a play of too much ambition failing to hit many of its targets effectively. Dealing with the legacies of Australian Colonialism in a vice-regal house near the turn of an earlier century, the polished Mountgarrets struggle against the emerging colony, four years before Federation, and its inhabitants, both the indigenous originals and the emerging white working class fighting for their own rights in a strongly stratified community. The older Europeans, Howard and Helena, hang onto their traditions and attempt to impose it on the next generation, while the younger children, wild with the privileges' their rank has given them, attempt to engage with the community around them in flailing, half-competent gestures that hinder as much as help those they try to engage with. Beatrix Christian writes in a rich, meaty theatrical style full of gothic foreboding, hidden secrets, pulpy Victorian-era language and emotional yearning, as the struggles meet with eventual disaster for everyone. There's enough material here for three or four plays, unfortunately none of them entirely get enough emphasis to come through clearly.

25 years later, I appreciate the richness of the text more, however I recognise the challenges of the play, as it requires a lot from a cast to capture a script that moves from drawing-room-wit to working-class political rhetoric to disturbing gothic fable, never quite settling on a single tone for very long. The cast of 6 and the director, Tony Llewellyn-Jones, handle the tonal shifts effectively, even presenting the most disturbing material head-on and with integrity (this is not necessarily going to be the easiest play for a Rep Audience - at my performance, there was a definite number of audience members not returning for Act Two). There's great strength from Peter Holland as the imperious governor, aware of his past sins and determined to do what's right, unaware of how this may effect his position, and Antonia Kitzel's Helena matches him in inner strength, even as the script has her drifting off into laudanum-induced fantasies. The twins have an easy engaging style to them, Caitlin Baker's more direct, almost Katherine Hepburnish Lara, and Robbie Haltiner's easily lead romantic Gerald. As the two outsiders, Kiara Tomkins manages well with Frances's often fairly cryptic dialogue which tends to wander between abstraction and outrage, while Jack Casey's Tammy Lee Mackenzie has a direct charm as the one practical, capable person onstage, comfortably positioned to be ready for the future. 

Andrew Kay's design is gorgeous and manages the shifting challenges of the script with aplomb, similarly Chris Ellyard's lighting and Neville Pye's sound design capture the mood and emotions of the piece. This is an intriguing production that wrestles with a challenging text, delivering it in a clear and strong manner.