Combining comedy, catharsis, and creativity, DOGHOLE, the latest production from the Sydney University Dramatic Society, is a success.
Directed by Adelaide Tustian and assistant directed by Mali Lung, DOGHOLE is written by Australian playwright Grace Wilson and tells the story of Dog (Katie Vo), an amateur teen writer who dreams of greatness, but is confined to a tiny town in rural Queensland. As they struggle with the process of writing a novel, Dog is also forced to grapple with their feelings for Katherine (Ruby Scott Wishart), their gender identity, and how to find their voice as an artist in a field dominated by old, white men. These figures inevitably come to haunt Dog, meaning that the further they get into their novel, the more the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur, testing both their relationships and identity.
Katie Vo is fantastic as Dog. Their performance anchors the show, and they have the range to hold the production together, transitioning from serious, heartfelt drama to slapstick comedy with ease. Ruby Scott Wishart delivers a strong performance as the kind Katherine, portraying her as fun and bubbly, but also with a strong underlying self-assurance that makes her a great foil for Dog and their insecurities. Vo and Scott Wishart share a strong on-stage chemistry together that captures the awkwardness of high school romance.
There are no show-stealing performances in DOGHOLE, but Daisy Semmler’s turn as a hyper-seductive and egomaniacal Tim Winton gets close — a testament to both her skill as an actor and the quality of the script. From the moment Semmler’s Winton bursts onto the stage, the audience is hooked, as we watch a joint-smoking Winton give Dog advice on life, writing, and continually spruik his novel, Cloudstreet. Jeremy Blewitt is delightfully devilish as a camp Patrick White, who is portrayed as a little imp who sets out to steal Dog’s novel for himself. It was a delight to watch Blewitt embrace the increasingly excessive lengths that White takes to achieve his dastardly goal.
These characters are bolstered by a sturdy ensemble consisting of Avigal Holstein, Harry Walker and Ruby Zupp. They effortlessly switch between roles, from a Greek chorus of mean girls to members of the rural town’s population. The ensemble are responsible for much of the show’s comic relief, and their comic timing is impeccable. Walker’s performance as “Hazza” — the demagogic Year 6 eshay who hires Dog to ghostwrite his speeches for assembly — is a standout, as is Holstein’s portrayal of a student delivering a poorly written limerick/eulogy for the local cow, Betty.
One of DOGHOLE’s greatest strengths is the sheer amount of energy that every cast member brings to their roles. An energetic production keeps the tempo high, ensuring that the narrative’s momentum doesn’t sag. Every performer gets a moment to shine. As an audience member, you can tell that the actors truly relish every moment that they’re on stage, and it is a genuine joy to watch and share in their enthusiasm.
Producers Mariika Mehigan and Mitchell Dihm have ensured that DOGHOLE excels from a production standpoint. The lighting (designed by EJ Zielinski) and sound (designed by Apollo Storm and Jack Fahd respectively) is strong, typically serving to strengthen the show’s numerous gags, such as when Dog daydreams of Katherine. One of DOGHOLE’s strongest scenes from a technical standpoint is the school disco, where the lighting and sound, aided by Georgie Eggleton’s choreography, converge to create a surreal, saturnalian, Gatsby-esque fever dream that makes full use of the space. Yet arguably the best use of the sound and lighting was when it was at its most restrained.
This was on full display during the strongest moments of the production, which are those between Dog and their mum, played by Ruby Zupp. Vo and Zupp share a quietly beautiful chemistry when on stage together that provides the show with much of its emotional weight. Vo is fantastic at capturing subtle changes in mood, while Zupp brings a masked sadness to her spot-on portrayal of an overworked suburban mum. When the pair interact, the lighting and sound are muted, and it gives the actors space to perform and the audience a chance to focus entirely on the raw emotions on display, as we watch this fractured, yet loving relationship between mother and child unfold. It’s a pleasure to be able to watch acting like this in a space as intimate as the Cellar Theatre.
The set, designed and constructed by Sophie Newby, Sophie Wishart and Emily Whiting, is also a standout. With the typical staging reversed in favour of the audience looking into the sound and lighting box, the space features a blend of influences from small town Australia, with a clothesline stretching across the audience’s heads, and high school, with the walls covered in the kind of murals that you’d find next to the handball courts. These designs are plastered over with a hodgepodge of papers with half-baked ideas and scurried notes, a sight which is all too recognisable to anyone who has attempted to craft an extended piece of creative writing.
DOGHOLE’s costumes are creative, designed by Max Brogan and Zoe Berg. Most of them are (understandably) school uniforms, but it was good to see the costume team get creative with characters like Tim Winton, who is clad in billowing beachwear and sports wristwatches all along his arm, and a Cat secretary that featured in one of the show’s many well-directed dream sequences. These were aided by a wide arsenal of props by Hunter Mackenzie. Stage manager Eli Reilly ensures that transitions and entrances and exits are seamless.
If I had to make one critique of DOGHOLE (and this is largely a result of the script) is its ending. Without spoiling the show, towards the end it careens from a moment of deep emotion and catharsis to a fast-paced and comedic wrap-up of the rest of the show’s plot points, that unfortunately offset some of the more heartfelt moments that the audience was still processing. Having said that, this is relatively minor within the grand scheme of the production, which otherwise balances drama and comedy well.
In DOGHOLE, Tustian and team have crafted a production that is heartfelt, funny and well-paced. The energetic cast and creative production design converge to create a performance that will make you laugh and cry — which is, in the end, why we go to the theatre in the first place.
