Black Cockatoo (3/5)
This play...isn't really that good. It's a case of trying to do too much and too little at the same time.
The play mainly focuses on the story of the 1868 Aboriginal cricket team who toured England (the so-called "Black Eleven"), selling itself as a story that needs to be told. Fair enough, though while I can't speak for everyone, this wasn't some obscure piece of Australian history for me. I certainly knew of the tour in question, even though I wouldn't be able to tell you the date or names of the players off the top of my head. But hey, fair enough, always ready to learn more, right?
Well, here's the thing. The play is 90 minutes with no interval, and divides itself between some Indigenous activists breaking into a museum to get it to "tell the truth," and flashbacks to the tour in question, centered around John Mullagh (the lead player), and Charles Lawrence, the captain/coach. Not the worst setup in the world. However, both of these things feel way too haphazard. For starters, the activists each have an archtype, ranging from the guy who wants to burn it down (metaphorically), isn't afraid to voice his feelings on white people, resents the lack of monuments to massacres within Victoria, to the girl who's just there to get her picture in the paper when the police come round. Fair enough. By itself, this works - emotions are genuine, and you could argue that the play came out at the 'right time,' given the yearly debate about Australia Day. The problem is that the activist sideplot feels very tangental to the cricket team plot, even though their initial goal is to get the museum to "tell the truth" about the tour. This spirals into a wider discussion about indigenous affairs in Australia. And fair enough, there's plenty there you can make a story out of, but it's a story that's relegated to these characters occasionally showing up. It also doesn't help that one of the characters outright states (paraphrased) that "this play is a metaphor for First Nations people in Australia, cue symbology of bat and boomerang together." Y'know, I'm not a published playwright (but I will be a published author within the year barring any stuffups, so suck it Gradius), but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that if you need to state your theme to the audience via monologue, you either haven't successfully conveyed that theme, or you don't have enough faith in your audience and/or yourself. To draw upon a writing maxim...no, it's not "show, don't tell," it's the maxim of "showing and telling." And it's what the play does in this case.
That aside, the 'present' sections of the play are in the minority, so what we're left with is stuff that's decent, for the most part. We deal with John, who has to deal with his love of cricket on one hand, to everything from racism and unrequited love on the other. I'm going to say that I'm a bit dubious of the plot where he falls for a British dowager woman who's very feminist/progressive (well, for someone at the time), who's pushing him to read Das Kapital, and waxing lyrical about how with the US civil war having recently ended, America will soon be a land of racial harmony (I admit, I laughed there, and I wasn't the only one). If this actually happened, I'm going to take this criticism back, but if your play is selling itself as telling the true story, then it's dubious to include a story that's almost certainly not true. I did some research and couldn't find any mention of the woman in question, but maybe it is true. But then, the play does acknowledge through the 'present' sections as to what can't be verified, so either the romance stuff IS verified, or it's completely false. But that aside, John carries the play (or technically his actor does), for the reasons I described above. There's referenced racism, and he has to deal with the condascending manner of his coach/team captain, on top of losing a player to sickness, and being homesick. There's quite a few powerful moments in the play, such as his quiet comments of the moon looking the wrong way, or his shadow being on the wrong side, or how quiet the birds are compared to back home. You could argue that it's the noble savage archtype, but I disagree - Indigenous peoples generally have connection to nature (or Country as it's referred to in Oz, and yes, capitalized) via their culture, so while it isn't a cultrue clash that's going on per se, it is a...cultural manifestation, I guess you could call it? Like I said, there's powerful stuff, because on one hand, he's not only falling in love, but it's shown that there's a lot of things in England that he likes. But on the other hand, as he puts it, "I want to know what's supposedly so horrible about this country that people are so desparate to leave it and invade mine." The play doesn't pull any punches on the darker elements of the British Empire, but the 'past' sections are more succinct in it, and serve by focusing on the individual. It's just a shame that we have to keep cutting back to the 'present.'
So, that's that then. If I had to offer one piece of advice (as pretentious as this sounds), it would be to cut out or minimize the 'present' sections of the play so we could get more time with the cricket tour. But in the end, what we're left with is 60% of a play that's pretty decent, with 40% that drags that 60% down, give or take. Also, it has audience participation, so that's another black mark for me.
This play...isn't really that good. It's a case of trying to do too much and too little at the same time.
The play mainly focuses on the story of the 1868 Aboriginal cricket team who toured England (the so-called "Black Eleven"), selling itself as a story that needs to be told. Fair enough, though while I can't speak for everyone, this wasn't some obscure piece of Australian history for me. I certainly knew of the tour in question, even though I wouldn't be able to tell you the date or names of the players off the top of my head. But hey, fair enough, always ready to learn more, right?
Well, here's the thing. The play is 90 minutes with no interval, and divides itself between some Indigenous activists breaking into a museum to get it to "tell the truth," and flashbacks to the tour in question, centered around John Mullagh (the lead player), and Charles Lawrence, the captain/coach. Not the worst setup in the world. However, both of these things feel way too haphazard. For starters, the activists each have an archtype, ranging from the guy who wants to burn it down (metaphorically), isn't afraid to voice his feelings on white people, resents the lack of monuments to massacres within Victoria, to the girl who's just there to get her picture in the paper when the police come round. Fair enough. By itself, this works - emotions are genuine, and you could argue that the play came out at the 'right time,' given the yearly debate about Australia Day. The problem is that the activist sideplot feels very tangental to the cricket team plot, even though their initial goal is to get the museum to "tell the truth" about the tour. This spirals into a wider discussion about indigenous affairs in Australia. And fair enough, there's plenty there you can make a story out of, but it's a story that's relegated to these characters occasionally showing up. It also doesn't help that one of the characters outright states (paraphrased) that "this play is a metaphor for First Nations people in Australia, cue symbology of bat and boomerang together." Y'know, I'm not a published playwright (but I will be a published author within the year barring any stuffups, so suck it Gradius), but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that if you need to state your theme to the audience via monologue, you either haven't successfully conveyed that theme, or you don't have enough faith in your audience and/or yourself. To draw upon a writing maxim...no, it's not "show, don't tell," it's the maxim of "showing and telling." And it's what the play does in this case.
That aside, the 'present' sections of the play are in the minority, so what we're left with is stuff that's decent, for the most part. We deal with John, who has to deal with his love of cricket on one hand, to everything from racism and unrequited love on the other. I'm going to say that I'm a bit dubious of the plot where he falls for a British dowager woman who's very feminist/progressive (well, for someone at the time), who's pushing him to read Das Kapital, and waxing lyrical about how with the US civil war having recently ended, America will soon be a land of racial harmony (I admit, I laughed there, and I wasn't the only one). If this actually happened, I'm going to take this criticism back, but if your play is selling itself as telling the true story, then it's dubious to include a story that's almost certainly not true. I did some research and couldn't find any mention of the woman in question, but maybe it is true. But then, the play does acknowledge through the 'present' sections as to what can't be verified, so either the romance stuff IS verified, or it's completely false. But that aside, John carries the play (or technically his actor does), for the reasons I described above. There's referenced racism, and he has to deal with the condascending manner of his coach/team captain, on top of losing a player to sickness, and being homesick. There's quite a few powerful moments in the play, such as his quiet comments of the moon looking the wrong way, or his shadow being on the wrong side, or how quiet the birds are compared to back home. You could argue that it's the noble savage archtype, but I disagree - Indigenous peoples generally have connection to nature (or Country as it's referred to in Oz, and yes, capitalized) via their culture, so while it isn't a cultrue clash that's going on per se, it is a...cultural manifestation, I guess you could call it? Like I said, there's powerful stuff, because on one hand, he's not only falling in love, but it's shown that there's a lot of things in England that he likes. But on the other hand, as he puts it, "I want to know what's supposedly so horrible about this country that people are so desparate to leave it and invade mine." The play doesn't pull any punches on the darker elements of the British Empire, but the 'past' sections are more succinct in it, and serve by focusing on the individual. It's just a shame that we have to keep cutting back to the 'present.'
So, that's that then. If I had to offer one piece of advice (as pretentious as this sounds), it would be to cut out or minimize the 'present' sections of the play so we could get more time with the cricket tour. But in the end, what we're left with is 60% of a play that's pretty decent, with 40% that drags that 60% down, give or take. Also, it has audience participation, so that's another black mark for me.