Lloyd Alison-Young and Joshua McElroy. Photo: Clare Hawley
What an achievement this bAKEHOUSE Theatre and KXT production is. A cast of 15 enact an epic tale that is both a love story and a thriller on a postage stamp of a stage and make it gripping and totally believable. There’s barely a prop in sight but there is an awesome combination of sound, lighting and choreography that turns the tiny KXT stage into the drawing rooms, the cathedrals, the slums and woods of 18thcentury England. Oh, and if that isn’t enough, Handel and his Messiah are integral to the story.
On the cusp of the Industrial Revolution, the wealth of England’s aristocracy is built on slavery – and children are among its commodities. The play spans three generations but the thread is the evil and unscrupulous Coram Man, aka Otis Gardiner (Lloyd Alison-Young), who preys on vulnerable women who need homes for their illegitimate children. On the pretext of taking them to London’s Foundling Hospital, he fleeces them and then kills their babies. He forces his own son, the simple-minded Meshak (Joshua McElroy), to do the dirty work. Gardiner’s accomplice, or one of them, is Mrs Lynch (Ariadne Sgouros), housekeeper to the wealthy, slave-owning Ashbrooks.
The Ashbrook heir, Alexander (Ryan Hodson), yearns for a world of beauty and music but his rich, bullying father Lord Ashbrook (Andrew Den) has other ideas; the boy must do his duty and take over the family business. The patriarchy rules, OK? Less wealthy individuals, such as Melissa (Annie Stafford), daughter to the Ashbrooks’ governess, and Thomas (Joshua Wiseman), a Foundling boy and gifted musician who plays in the cathedral choir alongside Alexander, must make the best of their lot. Through their music Alex and Thomas become lifelong friends; through mismatched love and an unwanted pregnancy, Alex and Melissa are also bound. In the next generation, Aaron (Petronella van Tienen) and Toby (Tinashe Mangwana), abandoned as babies, long to know where they came from.
The play is an adaptation by Helen Edmundson of Jamila Gavin’s novel. The Coram reference is to Sir Thomas Coram, a sea captain who established the Foundling Hospital in 1739, Britain’s first children’s charity and the forerunner to its Royal Academy. This Coram was a philanthropic gentleman, who worked for more than a decade to secure the signatures he needed to present a petition (eventually signed by duchesses, not dukes, if you don’t mind!) to King George II to enable him to found the hospital. (I just want to get that straight, because Sir Thomas was clearly a very good bloke and not to confused with the villain of this piece!)
Why present a play that is set 300 years ago? John Harrison (who co-directs with Michael Dean) says it’s because: “We wanted to stage something that makes us take stock of how we stand as a community today… child slavery is on the rise. Also, Coram Boy features events around the first public performance of Handel’s Messiah in 1742 and traditionally performed at Christmas – so this is a perfect time to share a story that considers how we treat the most vulnerable members of our community.”
Coram Boy runs for nearly three hours (including an interval) and of the many memorable scenes, stand-outs are a graveyard scene with human statues as Meshak adores his “angel”; Thomas’ bawdy sea shanty, performed to orphans; Mrs Lynch’s denouncement of the Ashbrooks (“The silk on your back, the sugar in your tea, all of this – all wealth is built on the suffering of others”); Van Tienen’s singing; and Meshak’s wonderfully lit and choreographed drowning.
To give everyone in the cast their due mention is not practical in this space but there is not a weak link. Here is the rest of the ensemble: Rebecca Abdel-Messih, Violette Ayad, Andrew Den, Ryan Hodson, Emma O’Sullivan, Gideon Payten-Griffiths, Amanda Stephens-Lee, Jack Walton and Joshua Wiseman.
Production design is by Patrick Howe and John Harrison; Lighting is by Benjamin Brockman; Composition & Sound Design, much of it original but with help from Handel, is by Nate Edmondson.
It’s hard to believe Coram Boy was written as a children’s story, given the content and the graphic nature of the story. The only real hint of this is right at the end, when sentimentality creeps in as loose ends are tied and parents are united with lost offspring. But that’s a minor quibble in an otherwise excellent production.
Coram Boy runs until 7 December, so be quick! You won’t want to miss it!
Tickets: $25 – $42
