Premiering at Flight Path Theatre in Marrickville, Call of the Void, presented by the Sydney University Dramatic Society (SUDS), immerses audiences in a dystopian world on the brink of collapse. Written by Aidan Hale and directed by Scout McWhinney, the play probes the erosion of truth and societal structures in our contemporary society — or more likely happening in the future — challenging viewers to confront what it means to be human in a post-truth era.
The story unfolds with a fractured family at its core: a frustrated mother, Kaycee, played by Benita Roy, her NEET (Not in Education, Employment, or Training) husband, Milo, portrayed by Isaac Niven Rowlands, and their curious daughter, Vinny, acted by Annabel Johnson. Their domestic struggles are set against societal decay, with characters like Dictator Cop Philip, played by Felix Tonkin, and the manipulative Big Sister, The Commissioner, played by Jasmine Jenkins, driving the chaos. A mysterious entity, ‘the Void’ played by Ana Dougenis, Jessica Louise Smith, and Tate Wilkinson Alexander, offers aid that the mother deems “inhuman.”
A particularly gripping scene was the confrontation between the mother and Dictator Cop Philip, where he falsely declares her dead based on “authoritative sources.” The absurdity of this moment, paired with Felix’s commanding performance as Philip, sent a chill through the audience, perfectly highlighting the play’s theme of distorted truth. This minimalistic set design mirrored the play’s bleak tone with the performative, detective-like spotlight. Benita’s portrayal of the mother was raw and captivating, her frustration resonating deeply as she grappled with the chaos.
Combined with the apocalyptic setting and its later zombie-like transformations, the drama means to expose the present fractured state authority eroded by neoliberal market logic. Public institutions, such as the police, often falter and lose their reputations due to the influence of funding providers and the constructed capitalist logic. Rights and liberties erode, rendering states fragile and vulnerable, much like seasonal creations.
Another stand-out moment was the climactic resolution where the mother finally stops resisting the void’s temptations and accepts its help, as society succumbs to a metaphorical zombie-like plague. The void’s eerie presence, described as “whispering, time-bending, wish-granting,” was brought to life through haunting sound effects that echoed through the theatre. I appreciated how the script sparked existential questions about the ontology of humanity.
Here, the play’s thematic depth was undeniable. In a collapsing world, the mum’s insistence on human solutions, rejecting the “inhuman” void until the bitter end, forces us to ponder: What defines humanity? Is it “I think, therefore I am?” Perhaps this explains why the mother cannot stop the prevalence of the commotion, as she is trapped in the Western definition of a human: a sovereign individual with an independent mind, which often overlooks the interconnections with others.
The exploration of a post-truth world left a lasting impact. Big Sister’s chilling line, “I see the truth of your soul. Your eyes show it,” cut through the tension, revealing the dangers of Western ocular-centrism, where truth is reduced to visual perception. The play highlights how our own society often prioritises optics over substance, a connection that felt unnervingly relevant.
That said, the sudden shift into the zombie-like transformation of the Narcissistic Reporter, Porkus Cook played by Gabriel Hannan-Moon, felt slightly uneven. His character lost energy in that moment, and I found myself wishing he had more lines and dynamic interactions, especially confrontations with Big Sister, to match the intensity of earlier scenes.
Nevertheless, the actors’ chemistry brought the script’s intensity and complexity to life. The failure of the Narcissistic Reporter also cleverly symbolises the unchecked dominance of bureaucratic forces and the manipulation of media narratives. It hints at the rise of populism, perhaps intensified by Australia’s compulsory voting system, where politicians can mobilise apolitical citizens with simplistic and divisive rhetoric.
Call on the Void is a bold, intellectually provocative drama that dares audiences to confront the fragility of our world. Its exploration of truth, power, and what it means to be human resonates deeply with the crisis of the contemporary world, a haunting mirror to our times that lingers long after the curtain falls.
