What To Expect When You're No Longer Expecting - Roe Rowe Productions (1 February 2025)

I don't know how to review this show. At least not as a theatre critic. I don't want to talk about lighting or set design. Or critique performance and execution. 

I want to talk about how it made me feel. 

I want to talk about how it made a roomful of people FEEL.

If one of the prime motivations of theatre is to be authentic and truthful in the moment then this is a stunning example of exactly that. 

Everything else is secondary. 

I laughed. 

I cried. 

I could feel the honesty and compassion radiating from the stage. 

Roe Rowe and her husband Chris told the story of their pregnancy and loss with a generosity unlike anything I had experienced before.  

Anticipation, excitement, dread, devastation, and grief followed by bewilderment at the lack of support after such unbearable heartbreak. Everyone was nice, everyone was professional, but how does that acknowledge let alone begin to heal the loss Roe had experienced?

This is the conversation Roe and Chris wanted to start to address that gap. 

A vital conversation. 

A conversation that could prove to be a healing factor for so many people. A conversation that banishes any thought of shame. Or that couples are alone in facing this. A conversation that helps family and friends support their loved ones. 

There is great humour here. 

And raw emotion. 

And glimpses of anger.

But never any shame. 

It is Roe being utterly fearless and vulnerable and truthful. 

It is Chris by her side, on this journey together, every step of the way.

Roe sings. Chris plays guitar and piano. 

Original songs add to the emotional truth - not only in the lyrics but how they are delivered. 

The wistfulness of "Who Will You Be" as Roe wonders what sort of person her baby will grow up to be. The frustration and hurt of "How Are You? Not Okay." The anguish of "Goodbye" which is heartfelt in such a profound way.

There are tears and sniffles all around me. 

I'm one of the people holding back tears and failing. 

Tears for Roe and Chris. 

Tears for a friend and her husband. 

Tears because I am part of something that feels extraordinary and meaningful.

The conversation crucially includes Roe forcefully detailing what you should expect when you're no longer expecting - no more platitudes but tangible support mechanisms that help heal body and mind. 

The production honours this by creating a supportive environment with a breakout area at the back; a memorial wall for the names of lost babies; and messaging that details where *assistance can be sourced. Even the encouragement to step out if you feel overwhelmed.

The show may end but the conversation doesn't stop. So many women talk to Roe afterwards about their lived experience. Chris and director Vanessa Jensen are also on hand to discuss the production and issues it has raised. 

I thank them. For their generosity. For their honesty. And for an act of kindness I'm grateful for. 

Each person will react differently based on their lived experience and circumstances. Whether that be a form of catharsis; the ability to share their story; to begin to heal; or to walk out feeling lighter knowing they're not alone. For family and friends it gives enormous insight into what loved ones might be dealing with.

It's a wonderful show. 

An important one.

There may only be two performances in this run - grab a ticket for Sunday 2 February at 3pm - but somehow I suspect the show will have a long life far after Fringe World has finished. This is theatre in its most compelling form - raw, honest, vital, and necessary. 

*For support after suffering pregnancy loss the production suggests the services offered by Pink Elephants and Red Nose Grief and Loss.

Sweet Road - Melville Theatre Company (17 May 2024)

The road movie has been a staple of cinema for decades. From Easy Rider to Thelma and Louise and Little Miss Sunshine with notable Australian contributions such as The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, the Mad Max franchise, and WA’s own Last Cab To Darwin by playwright/screenwriter Reg Cribb. It’s a genre that emphasises themes of self-discovery, freedom, and transformation that comes more from the journey than the destination. But given its reliance on wide open spaces and continuous movement from place to place how does one translate that effectively onto the stage?

Director Vanessa Jensen’s answer is to quite ingeniously use dual revolving sets, minimal props, and evocative lighting and sound design to represent the various vehicles and stops along the way. Debra Oswald’s play feels very filmic in its origins so the fading out from a scene on one of the revolving sets to the adjacent one is the equivalent of a movie transition as we cut from location to location.  This works well though the timing of the lights down on one revolve and lights up on the other might have been executed more crisply to maintain that illusion. The downstage area is utilised when more movement is required in a scene or where characters’ stories, particularly in the second half, intersect. 

Lighting Designer Lars Jensen provides the colour palette that creates the bright sunlight of regional Australia, twilight at a caravan park, or the harshness of a payphone at a roadhouse. Sound Designer Alan Gill fleshes out the world with everything from native birdlife, the cacophony of the road, snippets of radio broadcasts, and a feature of most road stories - music. The elements also play a key role in the second half of the story with rain effects teasing our imagination with swollen rivers and flooded roads. The combination of lighting and sound reaches a zenith at a critical moment towards the end of the first half where a life-changing moment is shockingly depicted. 

The story itself takes its characters on a journey, physically but, far more importantly, one of growth and renewed perspective. Jo (Madelaine Page) is running away from her husband's betrayal; Carla (Jackie Oates) and Andy (Brian O'Donovan) head north seeking new opportunities; Michael (Christopher Hill) hides from a personal tragedy he cannot process; Frank (Gino Cataldo) is stuck in a kind of stasis after his wife's death; and Yasmin (Jessica Palokangas) hitchhikes towards the thrill of young love. Some characters will meet and affect the trajectory of each other's journey in varying ways as will the harsh Australian landscape. 

Page plays the city dwelling wife who is devastated on seeing her husband kissing another woman with a brittleness that is understandable and relatable. Her Jo flees the city totally unprepared for the travails of the road where she picks up the hitchhiking Yasmin and, later, meets the profoundly damaged Michael. These interactions will sponsor a change in Jo's own self-worth as Page subtly moves her from impulsive angst (the trip to dry lake) to a far more kindly presence to herself and others. 

Oates gives her frazzled mother and wife Carla a real Ocker tone with undercurrents of despair and cynicism. She will do anything to protect her (never seen) children and creates that relationship with gusto. Unable to deal with husband Andy's own worst impulses, Carla discovers genuine empathy and purpose in the generosity of the older widower Frank. Oates exuding optimism as Carla sits behind the wheel at the end is a delight.

O'Donovan's Andy is certainly a handful with an endless optimism and lack of impulse control when it comes to gambling. He plays the character with no off switch and while we sense the love for Carla and the kids, we also understand how grating Andy must be. O'Donovan has fun interacting with Browndog, the best invisible dog performance I've (not) seen! 

Christopher Hill has perhaps the most notable arc with Michael who is almost comatose with grief in the first half. A strapping lad, the withdrawn presence is an extreme counterpoint to the larger performances in other strands. His monologue about the source of his grief is devastating and Hill imbues the character with concern and a hint of life after meeting Jo.    

Likewise Cataldo's Frank is revitalised after meeting Carla and finally undertakes the canoe trip he always wanted to do. Interestingly, Palokangas' dreamy portrayal of young love turns into something more muted as realism sets in. 

Charlie Young plays another kind of passenger in Curtis who is an opportunist and catalyst for Carla's break with Andy. Young has some lovely understated moments stuck between the bickering couple before exploding into fidgety action. 

The cast is rounded out by Laura Mercer as a not smug (maybe sometimes) Policewoman; Clare Talbot's salt of the earth Mechanic; and Michele Sharp's bemused Receptionist. 

Sweet Road is a play that grew on me as the various story strands contrasted and then complemented each other. All the characters change - most for the better, some in less happy ways. The coming of rain in the second half brings with it a certain cleansing and different kind of flow to the road. The use of the revolves mean that scene transitions move quickly and smoothly. The recreation of time and place is well done with mention to the costumes by Michelle Sharp and use of road maps in pre-smartphone days. All the characters are clearly delineated but their arcs are cleverly intertwined and realised. I loved the authenticity of stories about childhood holidays to caravan parks and the early morning excitement of such trips. A lovely addition to the road trip canon. 

Sweet Road is on at the well appointed new home of the Melville Theatre Company - The Main Hall, Melville Civic Centre - until Saturday 25 May.