St Kilda Tales: A Performance Rave (Victorian Theatre Company and Brisbane Music Festival), at Theatre Works’ Explosives Factory - 115 minutes, with no interval

Sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. The heartbeat of a suburb is captured in St Kilda Tales.

All but two hours of movement and conversation is partly overlaid with music.

Ten actors play characters looking for connection, among them friends and the disenfranchised, prostitutes and druggies.

Photos by Darren Gill

On occasion, a single conversation dominates proceedings. At other times conversations occur concurrently.

In keeping with the diversity of the ‘burb, the staging is busy and all but takes up the full width of the Explosives Factory.

There’s a drinks’ station, a cordoned off VIP area, another where make-up is applied and a surf lifesaver’s highchair, alongside the band station for keyboard and drums.

As I entered the theatre, actors were already on stage in character, exercising, sunning themselves, talking.

And then the play proper began, with the cast interacting and bitching and arguing. Expletives abound.  

Respective members move in and out, with breakouts throughout the venue, including exhortations from behind the tiered seating (a nice touch).

However, I must say the level of conversation is often vacuous or simplistic.

Here are some examples: “I just want to travel.” “I don’t need your sympathy.” “Money, money, money … right.” “Having a good, intelligent conversation is the most important thing.” “I don’t want to be afraid of anything.”

And this: “Everybody wants someone to rely on.” “Civilisation is one big toilet.” “Do you think I look like a pirate?” “I just want someone to … touch me.” “Are you wasted enough for a … dance?” “Most people are just so selfish.”

Forty-five minutes in, nine of the 10 performers participate in a dedicated dance bracket. Hands in the air, they form a conga line, then a circle. They jump in unison and clap.

In the program guide, director Matthew Connell refers to St Kilda Tales as a play of continual action and overheard conversations.

He goes on to say that a musical event sets in motion a series of encounters that sometimes lead to consequence and other times not.

I am afraid I didn’t see much of consequence take place.

What I did see was a lot of spaced-out people, who took refuge in drugs, who were

depressed and needy and wanting.

At 115 minutes, St Kilda Tales is far too long. It should have been cut in half. There are a series of interchanges, but little is developed and, as such, I felt short changed.

The play doesn’t allow you to really connect with or care about any of the characters and more is the pity, for I see that as a wasted opportunity.

I should quickly add that that isn’t a negative commentary about the acting, which is sound. Rather, it is a reflection of the writing.

Raimondo Cortese had the raw ingredients at his disposal, namely the actual overheard conversations, but did nothing with them, short of parading them.

Musically, I appreciated the dance bracket. Beyond that, I could take it or leave it. Jack Bochow was the composer and one of the two musicians. The other was musical director Blake Barnard.

So, for a play with music about a colourful suburb, I desired much more than I received. I quickly tired of what was on offer.

And a final swipe. The amount of smoking (presumably herbal cigarettes) that took place in the confined space of the Explosives Factory was appalling and overwhelming.  The smell was shocking.

Frankly, several modern theatre companies have ditched lit darts altogether and just have fags hanging out of actors’ mouths. Victorian Theatre Company should do likewise.

St Kilda Tales: A Performance Rave is on at Theatre Works’ Explosives Factory until 10th May, 2025.