Aye, they do be protesting.
I’m not sure why the title of this one is in Pirate. The rest of the play is not, and that’s probably a wise decision, as it’s set in contemporary Australia, me hearties. (Yes, I’ve got to admit, I’ve been fighting the temptation to write my response entirely in the language of the buccaneer. After all, in a flat, consumerist society such as our own, what is any serious theatre review but some quaint, seemingly old-fashioned, musty document … but one that shows the way to hidden treasure?)
And this play, written and directed by Izabella Louk, certainly has its treasures.
I’m guessing it’s inspired by the student climate crisis protests of a few years ago, where young people quite understandably answered criticism that they should be in school with the assertion they’d like to be, if only the adults would do their job and protect the planet.
All the characters in this play are fifteen and, surprisingly, that’s the source of its strength.
Louk and her talented cast nail the high energy of youth, and the piece is fast-paced and very funny. Karrine Kanaan as the bossy would-be school captain offers a terrific satirical portrait of the obsession with self-advancement. Rachel Thomas’ Georgie is hilariously prim, and her journey to independence fascinating. Hamish Alexander’s Jimbo is slow-witted and good-hearted, great fun and greatly inspiring. Mây Tran’s Mandi is the serious heart of the play, and her impassioned speech about the challenges and necessities of political engagement is deeply affecting. But the script also gives Mandi plenty of scathing sarcasm, and Tran delivers it with delicious bite.
In these four characterisations, there’s a real sense of the dreams and doubts of youth.
But in making all the characters fifteen, doesn’t the play risk being about being fifteen? Is it a creative decision that threatens to overwhelm the more pressing issue of climate change?
Perhaps. Louk’s script reveals a maturity of political vision that belies its dramatis personae. The challenges of political action are candidly presented: How do you deal with those who support your cause but do so for selfish or stupid reasons? How do you work with people who claim to have the same goal as you but demand a different strategy? How do you not hate those who oppose your cause or, even more provokingly, seem entirely oblivious to it? How do you cope with the hate directed at you?
These challenges are not presented to dissuade us from political action, but to clarify what it is. Despite the current rhetoric, everything is not political. There are the things we can only do alone and there are the things we can only do together. The second of these clauses describes the political sphere of life, and its key word is together. Learning how to do things with other people is the key to political action.
This might seem naïve and simplistic, but this recognition of the true nature of politics is invaluable. The play may portray children, but many adult Australians appear to believe they’re being politically engaged when they’re merely spouting opinions. By representing the political sphere of life as it is first encountered by a group of teenagers – as they first learn to work together – the adults in the audience are gently, and surreptitiously, given a lesson in political maturity. (It’s a trick Harper Lee uses to great effect in To Kill A Mockingbird.)
On an even plainer level, the play’s exclusive representation of youth has an irresistible emotional impact. In regard to that most critical of issues, climate change, reason alone should prompt action, but the sight of fear in the eyes of a child is a powerful motivator.
Paul Gilchrist
These Youths Be Protesting by Izabella Louk
Presented by Blinking Light Theatre, in association with bAKEHOUSE Theatre
At KXT until 19 April
Image by Karla Elbourne
Theatre Red 