Review: Slippery, Omnibus Theatre

Sometimes it’s the absences in a play that reveal the most truth. Writer Louis Emmitt-Stern absolutely masters this in the premiere of Slippery at Omnibus Theatre, a beautifully crafted and deeply human tale interrogating themes of addiction, recovery and grief, in a queer world.

The play itself is indeed slippery, telling the story of Kyle (Perry Williams) and Jude (John McCrea) who are reunited after a messy break up years earlier. It’s exquisitely crafted, with the protagonists beautifully, believably drawn. As they negotiate a relationship altered since they last met, trying to find surety is like walking on ice floes: there’s no traction; they are never sure-footed as they navigate personal difficulties and struggle to find each other’s unspoken truths. Yet however hard they attempt to break apart they’re drawn compulsively back, endangering one another’s progress as secrets are revealed. This plays out in the context of a queer society that embraces transgression, when sometimes what may really be needed is simple, loving care. 

It’s not often the casting director gets a nod, but here Nadine Rennie excels: it’s an inspired combination matching Williams with McCrea. Both actors exude charisma and their meticulous, nuanced performances are enthralling, shifting from light to dark seamlessly, while tension fluxes electrically between them throughout. Their chemistry is so powerful you’d believe they’ve known each other intimately for years, and so captivating I found myself leaning in towards the stage. Yet alongside invisible bonds, achingly tangible vulnerability, tenderness and erratic petulance, both manage to display magnificent comic delivery. 

Perry is outstanding from the outset, as he fidgets uncomfortably, waiting for the bathroom and making the audience cackle. His fluid, articulate delivery then sustains a rollercoaster of emotions and challenges, as Kyle’s hidden pressures are made acutely sensible, tested by reconnection with a past life where he was a different person. Meanwhile, McCrea’s Jude is a literally damaged individual, covered in blood and bandages from a questionable fall. He too creates humour, with a natural ease that belies Jude’s pain. Squealing and wincing comically from physical injuries while simultaneously suppressing the agonies of grief, addiction, loneliness, he disguises inner tragedy.

Matthew Iliffe’s direction is elevated and masterful. With his signature gentle touch, he skilfully crafts the use of the stage, finding intimacy in open spaces, uncertainty in the most concrete of places. The characters are balanced beautifully and there’s a visceral rhythm and momentum to the piece as he fills silence with emotional knowledge and meaning, articulating difficult humanity effortlessly.

And Hannah Schmit‘s set is brilliant. An executive apartment with fully functioning kitchen (used for cooking carbonara and drinking screwtop wine) and expensive beige sofa, it tells of the vacuousness of Jude’s lavish lifestyle. Both he and it are seemingly sleek and efficient, yet in actuality just functioning and superficial. Huge windows look out on nothingness and reflect back his distress. With food cooked in real time, the drama is not only given convincing reality but an additional sensory level.

Shifting atmospheres find coherence through Ryan Joseph Stafford’s artful lighting states, which echo emotional temperatures as revelations are made, and underscore the sensory eloquence of the play. The conclusion arrives filled with tingling precariousness and uncertainty hanging suspended like dust in sunlight.

There’s so much to love about this show, from its unpacking of important social themes that are often left quietly unaddressed, to outstanding performances that deliver humour and humanity. It gifts us skilful writing and expert direction that fill the stage with unspoken understandings made perceptible; with vulnerability and strength, challenges and kindness; and with mechanisms to cope with whatever challenges life might throw your way.

You can read more about the show in our recent interview with Perry Williams here.

Writer: Louis Emmitt-Stern
Director: Matthew Iliffe
Designer: Hannah Schmidt
Lighting Designer: Ryan Joseph Stafford
Sound Designer: Anna Short
Intimacy Director: Jess Tucker Boyd
Casting Director: Nadine Rennie
Dramaturg: Gillian Greer

Slippery plays at Omnibus Theatre until Saturday 11 April.