Co-founded by actor, writer, and producer Grant Dodwell and executive producer Peter Hiscock, Australian Theatre Live (AT Live) is a mechanism for younger generations to have “affordable access to theatre” while preserving local productions for national and international audiences.
I had the chance to speak to Dodwell in an engaging conversation about the Australian theatre and film industries, the export of National Theatre Live (NT Live) from London and the United Kingdom, as well as the aspirations for AT Live.
Dodwell noted the Australian Theatre Live is not-for-profit, with funds going back into the industry. It is simultaneously an education platform, providing a “rich resource for students and researchers” as well as support material in the form of interviews, notes, and study guides. Some titles include a Queensland Theatre production of William Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, Norm and Ahmed by Alex Buzo, and Away by Michael Gow.
By “record[ing] and distribut[ing] popular Australian theatre captures” with state-of-the-art digital technologies, the archives of live performances are preserved in the best quality possible.
In short, AT Live “promote(s) artistic achievement at every level of our community” so that all Australians can “enjoy, critique and participate in the development of our artistic heritage” and “storytelling that reflects our entire culture.”
I then had the pleasure of watching a recording of Whitefella Yella Tree, written by Dylan Van Den Berg and co-directed by Declan Green and Amy Sole, which previously played at the SBW Stables Theatre for the Griffin Theatre Company in 2022. The story is set during the early colonisation of Australia, where First Nations populations become aware of the arrival of white settlers.
I have watched recordings of live performances before, notably plays by William Shakespeare at school. However, a few months ago I watched David Tennant (king!) in NT Live: Good at the Dendy, and since then, have considered hybrid theatre-cinema to be an underrated art form.
In Whitefella Yella Tree, I was directed to look wherever the camera situated me. I also could see audience members moving their heads from character to character, in control of what they observe. Hearing their unanimous laughter was a pleasant touch as well.
Agreeing to use code names, our two characters meet in a very charming and uncontrived manner under the yella tree. Nicknamed Feisty Fish, Neddy (Guy Simon) and Ty/Silent Moth (Callan Purcell) are here to pass information about the “white fellas” who “take up space with their bodies…. also their voices.”
While the play deals with the subject matter of colonialism, it is infused with moments of levity and tragicomedy. For example, Ty says “That [tree] wasn’t here before”, with Neddy’s curt response, “That’s how trees work dickhead.” More tree references ensue with the old-but-gold, “hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”
The astute observation that the invaders “use the word ‘fuck’ the most” also made me laugh for no apparent reason. I eventually came to realise that the brilliance of the humour was in the ordinariness of it all. Each conversation felt adjacent to real life and did not play into artificial conversation or the theatrical.
A contemporary approach is further taken whether that be through appearance — caps, piercings, Vans, and the incorporation of the Aboriginal flag on a T-shirt — or the use of slang like “yeah nah” and “shit for brains.”
Whitefella Yella Tree also depicts a queer romance, without sacrificing colonisation at the expense of romance and vice versa. While Neddy is the warrior, Ty is very knowledgeable and can describe things beautifully after observing them. In other words, he is a writer.
When Ty is scared to navigate after dark, he hatches ridiculous ways to get Neddy to stay. Neddy does but then teases Ty, which kickstarts great banter. The two also engage in fun, random activities like marking each other’s height on rocks, eating nuts, doing pushups, and tackling each other.
Steve Toumlin’s eerie sound design and score combined with the natural — birds chirp, wind gusts, and water runs — a blend between ethereal and realistic. The lights change (Kelsey Lee and Katie Sfetkidis) when the two talk about each other to their Aunty and sister. They converse as if they are hearing each other, with Neddy saying “I’ll let him feel my arms because I know he probably wants to”, and Ty immediately following it up by, “I want to feel his arms… both of them.”
The chemistry is so natural, and never feels like ‘acting’, only two people interacting as if no one was watching them. It transitions into slight awkwardness as they begin to like each other and while their romance develops within a short timeframe, it does not feel rushed as you can see the intimate bond brewing. They repeatedly end their conversations with “exchange over” in reference to their messenger roles.
When they spot a “white fella’s hat”, it triggers the fight or flight response as having “heard about [white fellas] is different to knowing about [them].” Neddy’s sister along with many others are taken by the British, prompting Neddy to plan to make a machine to bomb them “but not kill them” so they will be distracted while he gets his sister back. An undercurrent of guilt occupies Neddy as he feels he has failed as a warrior despite having been surrounded by weapons and an army.
After this difficult revelation, Neddy kisses Ty suddenly, and then repeatedly. Ty sincerely asks if he is “the first” to which Neddy cheekily replies, “the first for the day anyway.” Harkening back to their previous moments together, Neddy notices Ty’s height change, and Ty comedically touches Neddy’s arms.
They plan a potential future together but Neddy reminds Ty of his rescue mission. However, Ty tries to convince Neddy to stay put, per the Elder’s instructions. Neddy replies, “watching hasn’t done us any good so far.”
The filmed production allows for the transition of time articulated through spinning shots of the yella tree. Ty waits for “four fucken moons”, and reminisces by checking his height — an activity stripped of its meaning when alone — and even recreates their conversations aloud.
When Neddy comes back, he reveals he has been helping the white settlers so that he can learn more about them in the hopes of getting to his sister who, according to them, is at a “camp up north” with other girls. Meanwhile, Ty relays to him that the “mob don’t want you back since you went against the Elders.”
Two years pass, Ty sees Neddy again — now ‘Ned’ — who is wearing “white fella clothes” and under the guise of keeping everyone safe, has unconsciously adopted the settler’s ways, his own “body turn[ing] against him.”
He tells Ty, “we’ve got tents and places to sleep”, attempting to convince him that they can be close day and night. The caveat, they can only sleep “near” each other and not together.
Ty, experiencing the burdens of loss and loneliness, denounces the importance of stories exclaiming they “have done fuck all for me” after “trying to cram all the stories in [his] head.” As such, his poignant words, “I don’t know who will be left to listen”, in an act of clever screenwriting by Van Den Berg become reversed, as audiences of the in-person production and Australian Theatre Live have been able to engage with this affecting story.
I believeWhitefella Yella Tree should be reincarnated on the stage so that the legend of the yella tree is passed on, and as many audiences as possible can bear witness, and listen.
Note: This production was previously reviewed in a 2022 Honi Soit article by Thomas Sargeant and Roisin Murphy.
Play Credits:
Playwright: Dylan Van Den Berg
Directors: Declan Green & Amy Sole
Designer: Mason Browne
Dramaturg: Andrea James
Lighting Designer: Kelsey Lee
Composer & Sound Designer: Steve Toulmin
Stage manager: Isabella Kerdijk
Intimacy coordinator: Akala Newman
Community engagement consultant: Neville Williams Boney
Elder-in-residence: Uncle Graham Simms
Film Credits:
Executive Producers: Grant Dodwell, Peter Hiscock & Raj Sidhu
Producers: Lucy Clements & Emma Wright
Director: Peter Hiscock
Director of Photography: Paul Howard
Camera Operators: Paul Howard, Shaun Dougherty, Joe Hell & Andrew McClymont
Camera Assistant: Rhys Luscombe
Sound Recordist: Greg Northam
Sound Assistant: Jo Edmond
Editor: Peter Hiscock
Sound Mix: Abigail Sie (Massive Music)
Sound Design: Steve Toulmin
Colourist: Dan Molony
