Housework, a new play by Emily Steel, lifts the rock off politics to expose its crawling, ruthless, yet undeniably comic underside. The result is masterful, hilarious and deeply incisive.
Housework opens with the day-to-day demands of a local MP electorate office and then sweeps to the halls of power in Canberra.
Chief of staff Anna Cooper (Emily Taheny), media advisor Ben (Benn Welford) and junior staffer Kelly (Franca Lafosse) try to perform damage control for their headstrong, cherry-picked, first-term MP Ruth Mandour (Susie Youssef).
In Canberra, Ruth is preparing for her first private member’s bill, calling for health care reform; Anna has a sick child back home; and Ben is absent with COVID. Add in a star-struck young female staffer, a predatory older male MP (Paul, played by Renato Musolino), and a photo of them leaving a bar together and we strap in for a rollicking ride through media manipulation, personal and political sacrifice, and the fleeting moments of power.
It is absolutely compelling and all too recognisable.
This is everything you’ve always wanted to know about Australian politics but were too afraid to have your worst fears confirmed. Steel’s play is laugh-out-loud funny in its satire and send-ups. But it is also deeply affecting in her bleak but loving depiction of the chasm between personal dreams and the reality of politics.
Uproarious comedy
Steel has based her script on interviews with politicians and staffers (confidential, of course) and media stories. She centres the experiences of women in politics, personal lives, gender roles, sexism, fighting the patriarchal socio-political systems. This sits within the story of a new MP butting up against potential scandal and the power plays of Parliament, and the relentless 24-hour news cycle.
It is a timely reminder of the barriers that continue to obstruct social equality.
Matt Byrne/STCSA
Steel’s script is bookended with a woman cleaning (who eventually gets one of the best skewering zingers of the play). The constant references to rubbish disposal are a highlight, from the hilarious opening scene (“we don’t do bins”) to the frantic scramble to weaponise a “scandal” and who is sacrificed to save who.
Steel’s writing revels in the roller coaster of political life, balancing the high comedy with deep insight into the human cost.
This is the kind of play you want to see again to delight in Steel’s use of language, the uproarious comedy and the undercurrents of bloodthirsty power.
A brilliant cast
Director Shannon Rush has expertly paced this excellent cast to bring out every laugh, back stab and all-too-familiar power jostle. They don’t miss a beat or drop a spark of energy. The sense of building political pressure and personal conflict is relentless and exciting; the depiction of the sense of place and power is spot on.
Every one of Steel’s political animals is instantly recognisable. We watch them with morbid fascination as they spar, jostle, align and detonate, revealing more of themselves as the stakes rise.
Matt Byrne/STCSA
Taheny effortlessly makes the whip-smart staffer Anna multifaceted, with internal conflict alongside high-energy pragmatism and expertly timed comedy. Youssef’s Ruth is blunt, no-nonsense and idealistic, with comically few diplomatic skills and no idea how the machinations of government work – but an unflinching desire to make a change for good.
Lafosse brings depth, subtlety and excellent comic foil timing to the young idealist. Musolino revels in the role of the leader-in-waiting Paul, giving us a joyously morally bankrupt character. Every moment of his scenes is a delight and his repulsively predatory-yet-attractive older white male politician was all-too recognisable. The scenes between Paul and Taheny’s Anna spark and hum with energy and presence.
Welford is wonderful as Ben the media officer and Duncan the party apparatchik, bringing out the offhanded ruthless grabs for power and casual decimations between laughs.
Matt Byrne/STCSA
The ensemble cast all play smaller roles, filling out the world of parliament with the faceless “schemers and plotters” in the back rooms and corridors, ABC news journalists, and continual stream of environmental protesters.
Sunitra Martinelli plays both the ever-present (and mostly voiceless) cleaner, and the prime minister. This pairing is a genius move, played with presence and deft contrast. The cleaning woman, constantly fixing the mess others make, bookends the play as a constant reminder of the mopping-up required for the people in power. Politics is literally a dirty business.
A future classic
Ailsa Paterson’s stylish set references the stark white outside of Parliament House in Canberra. The repetitive doorways and hallways, entries and frames for the machinations of the people of government. A rotating long timber table divides the scenes and the sides of parliament.
Sound design by Andrew Howard punctuates scene changes and mood swings with pounding relentless pace, the tick-tock of time passing, and rich sonic textures to create the insistent, driving tempo of government.
Matt Byrne/STCSA
Nigel Leavings’ lighting is superb, creating menace, blinding office fluros, and shadows in this mad-rush-to-the-top climb over the bodies of everyone to get to the top.
Housework is firmly in the now-familiar worlds of Total Control (2019–24), Rake (2010–18) and The Thick Of It (2005–12). It is a deft capturing of a socio-political moment in time, undeniably Australian and gloriously uncompromising.
Dare I say it, this a future Australian classic: a Don’s Party for our time, but with fewer blokes and WAGs – and a female PM.
Housework is at the State Theatre Company South Australia until February 22.
