John Wyndham’s famous novel is not one I had imagined would readily lend itself to dramatization.
It’s in first person. It’s highly discursive. The plot is rambling. There’s no obvious climax. And its primary antagonists are seven-foot tall, walking, flesh-eating plants.
To realise this on stage, J. James-Moody has gone for full throttle theatricality – and, in this regard, it’s an extraordinary achievement.
Special praise should go to lighting designer Holly Nesbitt, sound designer Aubtin Namdar, and a plucky cast led by James Collins who navigate the orchestrated anarchy.
This stage realisation still centres Wyndham’s key concerns. Through the satellite weapons that blind billions, and the genetic meddling that results in the triffids, we’re confronted with the humbling truth that our technological development too often outstrips our moral development. And shown individuals banding together to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, we’re teased with the ethical question of how a new society might best be organised. Admittedly, this extremely theatrical presentation is more suited to the portrayal of the chaotic horror of it all, rather than the subtle provocations of political philosophy – but that’s a failure many audience members won’t regret.
However, at two hours without interval, I suspect some audience members might regret certain flashbacks and repetitions. One set of recurring motifs establishes the mid-twentieth century setting: the repetition of mock newsreel footage and of a wailing 50’s pop song. Perhaps these lighten the mood. Perhaps they evoke the nightmarish naivety of the past.
Whatever the case, it all sends us out into our contemporary darkness, to consider what horrors we ourselves have summoned.
Paul Gilchrist
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham, realised by J. James-Moody
at New Theatre until 25 July
newtheatre.org.au
Image by Chris Lundie
Theatre Red 