Liam Nunan, Matthew Whittet, Grace Truman and Emma Jackson. Photo: Brett Boardman
The things we do for love. Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam is an adaptation – by actor-writer Steve Rodgers – of a Peter Goldsworthy novella (1993), which I have not read. I wonder if I had, would I find myself more engaged and more sympathetic to the plight of the Pollard parents around whom this play centres?
The Pollards are the perfect family, living in a perfect bubble. Linda (Emma Jackson) and Rick (Matthew Whittet) met at uni, fell in love, married and had two children, a boy Ben (Liam Nunan) and a girl Wol (Grace Truman). So perfect is this little family that they even have grandparents (Mark Lee and Valerie Bader), who are always there to help out. They are church-going Christians, spurn evils of technology such as television (which might bring bad news into their world) and instead play word and board games (nothing wrong with that). With this set up, and on a set (design Emma Vine; lighting Verity Hampson) that has a lot of primary colours and a bit of a Play School feel about it, inevitably something bad is going to happen.
It does. A little more than halfway through this 80 minute production, Wol becomes ill, and leukaemia is diagnosed. The prognosis is grim.
Clearly, this is a terrible situation for any family, any parent. As the Pollards struggle to come to grips with it, they lose their faith and become even more isolated from outside influences. Grandma’s offer to move in and help is rejected. The priest (Mark Lee again) doesn’t visit so much.
Darren Yap directs and the actors do a fine job with the material, especially Jackson as the anguished mother. The family’s arc from complacent joy to bewildered despair and grief is apparent.
Truman is convincing as poor little Wol. But the person I felt most sorry for was Nunan’s Ben. As in any family when the focus of attention is on a sibling (for whatever reason), rejection and dejection can follow. His hurt was apparent in the opening scenes, but never fully explored.
I felt the same about the bigger issues that this play confronts its audiences with. The decisions Rick and Linda make are huge but the thought processes behind them seem slick in comparison to the scale and repercussions of those decisions. It felt glossed over. Unexplored. Whatever your beliefs, this is unusual parenting.
The trigger warnings that Belvoir places on its website are necessary.
Until 8 March. Tickets $33-89
