This shouldn’t work, but it does – gloriously – and that’s a testament to the skill of the creative team.
Written by Izzy Azzopardi and directed by Brea Macey, Traffic Light Party is a beautiful snapshot of youth as it navigates love.
The setting is an end of semester uni party. It doesn’t appear much has changed in the 40 years since I was last invited to one. (Except for the traffic light concept: wear green if you’re available, red if you’re not, and yellow if it’s complicated. I don’t think that was a thing in 1985. Is it a thing now? Regardless, it’s a magical gift to be shown once again, with such crystal clarity, that most wondrous time of Life.)
I began with the suggestion the piece shouldn’t work, and that’s because parties, by definition, are messy. But Azzopardi’s splendid script keeps a tight thematic focus. Despite the large number of characters, everything centres explicitly on relationships; and, because of the large number of characters, that theme is satisfyingly explored from multiple angles.
Another device that holds it all together is the motif of driving. Between the scenes set at the party, scenes of realism, are interspersed movement and choral sequences. These juxtapose the certainty of the rules of the road with the certainty we long for in that far more murky sphere of human experience: relationships. This correlation has its antecedents, famously in F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. But Azzopardi makes it her own, and its use simultaneously draws attention to the key themes and gives the piece a pleasing texture. As is the way with theatre, the exuberant fun of these sequences is the result of disciplined work by Macey and the entire ensemble.
But, for me, the highlight of Azzopardi’s script are the one-on-one conversations. These are superbly crafted and Macey elicits from the cast performances that are both candidly authentic and genuinely moving.
Let me describe a few of these scenes.
Ivy (Azzopardi) talks to Samson (Isaac Harley). There’s obvious sexual tension though, it seems, he’s taken. He calls her Fletcher, her last name, an apparent denial of attraction yet, in its very oddness, intimate. It’s these sort of touches that give the script its shine.
Samson is later asked by Amber (Caitlin Green), the girl he has actually been seeing, whether they are boyfriend and girlfriend. He quibbles about the labels. This scene is particularly good in its slow burn, in the gradual growth of tension, and in the way it lets the conversation be untidy, in the painfully and ironic way such defining moments in relationships so often are.
Phoenix (Travis Howard) confronts Reid (Jordy Stewart) about whether he’ll ever come out. Reid’s But what will my rugby mates say? is suitably dismissed by Phoenix, but the scene bravely refuses to deny the reality of Reid’s fear.
Ivy and Scarlett (Meg Denman) argue about their friendship and if it’s lost, now that Scarlett has found romance. Is there a hierarchy of relationships? If so, why is friendship placed so low? The sense of bitter bewilderment shines in Ivy’s eyes, only to be honestly countered by the tired frustration in Scarlett’s voice.
Chloe (Grace Easterby) has drunk too much and Hunter (Caleb Jamieson) tries to take advantage. Once again, this scene is perfectly paced, and Hunter’s duplicity and Chloe’s vulnerability is appropriately painful to witness.
And now an exception from the paired conversations: the one sided phone call. Sunny (Renée Billing) speaks to their partner, whose absence at the party, a flapping red flag, is deftly rendered as both a giving of offence and a granting of freedom.
Traffic Light Party was my first Fringe show for 2025. I hope to see many more that are as enjoyable. It’s thoroughly engaging and poignantly truthful.
Paul Gilchrist
Traffic Light Party by Izzy Azzopardi
presented by Jezebel Productions as part of the Sydney Fringe
The Actors Pulse Playhouse, Redfern, until 13 Sept
Image supplied.
Theatre Red 