
This is a rom-com. Yes, I know Shakespeare made this sort of thing work, with his poetry and multiple storylines, but it’s a genre I don’t usually enjoy, and one I don’t think particularly suited to theatre.
But, written by Dax Carnay with Aleks Vujicic, Chasing Dick is utterly charming.
A father (Jason Jefferies) and a son (Chris Colley) have both fallen for Dick (Carnay), a trans woman.
Directed by James Lau and Carnay, the performance style is a sort of naïve naturalism, and the characters created are warm and very likeable. Carnay, in particular, is a gifted comic actor.
The result is a show that’s cute, funny, and wonderfully effervescent.
But it’s not just bubbles; there’s some invigorating tensions that give the piece a glorious richness.
Firstly, there’s a fascinating dual narrative in regard to Dick’s backstory. At one point, her Filipino culture is described as conservatively intolerant of her identity, retrograde in comparison to a more open Australia. In another telling, her original culture appears warmly accepting. Is the character indulging in revisionism? If so, it’s a penetrating portrait of the psychological complexity of migration. Or, are the competing narratives indicative of the inescapable contrast between our anxieties and reality? She feared coming out, but was then happily surprised? If so, it’s an insight into abuse’s inevitable and insidious ability to warp our world view; a single snarl erases a thousand smiles, and can hold us back from so many more.
Secondly, there’s a moving interrogation of the trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl (MPDG). The MPDG is a female character who sometimes pops up in romantic comedy, a woman of transgressive energy but no apparent interiority, a woman whose sole purpose appears to be aiding the male characters’ growth. Both father and son fall under Dick’s vivacious spell, but she complains You see me, but you haven’t listened to me! She refuses to be reduced to a fetish; she demands to be recognised as a full human being. But, at the same time as rejecting the dehumanising elements of the MPDG, the positive aspects of the trope are retained. Dick does encourage the men to mature. A cynic might reject the lessons these characters are asked to learn as mere psychobabble – of the Tennyson-inspired Better to have loved and lost variety. However, romance might be the silliest of the serious things, but in a world in which the silliest people seem to have gained control of the most serious things, lessons of acceptance, openness and the importance of genuine love have definitely not lost their vitality.
Thirdly, the play offers a transformative exploration of reductive thinking. Confronted by his unexpected feelings for Dick, the elder of her devotees wants to know What am I now? It’s a powerful poke at conservativism. (I, for one, wanted to scream from my seat Why do you NEED a label?) And yet, in a play that positions us to question the oversimplification of labels, Dick says very clearly I am a woman.
And it’s a truly beautiful moment.
The current fashion in our theatre is to be overtly political, to be direct, didactic – and dull. We like to tell our audience what to think. One way we do this is by loudly asserting the rights of marginalised peoples. Jeremy Bentham famously suggested that any talk of rights was nothing more than nonsense on stilts, meaning it was just airy-fairy fancifulness, rights ultimately being guaranteed nowhere and underwritten by nothing. Inadvertently (perhaps) Bentham’s dismissive metaphor highlights the appeal of the language of rights – after all, everyone does stop to watch a person walking on stilts – though he was correct in suggesting it’s not usually a sight that has a life-altering emotional impact.
But when Carnay as Dick asserts I am a woman, she is not speaking the language of rights, she is not furthering an agenda, she is not repeating the party line. She’s being far more radical than that – she is being honest.
I’m not completely dismissing theatre with political attitude, but a piece like this is an invaluable reminder of how we might best connect with our audiences. It is openness that breeds openness, and I suspect many more hearts are melted by sincerity than ever are by slogans. If justice is to stand, it will stand strongest when built on the knowledge of our shared humanity.
Paul Gilchrist
Chasing Dick by Dax Carnay with Aleks Vujicic
Presented by TayoTayo Collective
At the Loading Dock Theatre, Qtopia, until 15 Feb
Image by Jordan Hanrahan-Carnay and Matt Bostock