Two worlds collide and the impact is raw

Brink Productions are no stranger to success. They are best known in Australia for their production of When the Rain Stops Falling, but with Skip Miller’s Hit Songs in the air, perhaps it will be surpassed. Skip Miller’s Hit Songs sets out to tackle that of the rawest human emotions; pain and fear, and how, two worlds apart, Africans and Australians find connection. This production goes from strength to strength and will no doubt linger in the minds of its audience, ready to electrify the next.

The steady, rhythmic beat of a bongo drum from Lamine Nanky and the deft thrumming of a guitar, from Quentin Grant fill the air, complimented with percussion by Jerome Lyons. The upbeat, African music sets the mood as the audience enters, and pools of light illuminate the stage – a packed earth floor and wooden backdrop resembling a plastered wall. The audience is swept up in the lively drumming, clapping along in time. The exuberance is disrupted by the actors' entry and the audience is confronted by projected photo images of refugees, like floating faces brought sharply to front by the actors holding up large sheets of paper.

It seems that the topic of refugees and integration is a relevant topic to consider, and Brink Productions, with writer Sean Riley, have come at the opportune moment. The topic is fresh and relevant, never before staged in Adelaide theatres. The idea of war and death is a far cry from suburbia, but it is one that has crept into the public realm, through media and influxes in immigration. To witness a play that deals with this topic in such a personal and revealing manner brings to light that the world is a smaller place than we think. Sean Riley draws connections between the emotional journeys of each character, between the Africans and Australians, whereby the audience can gain an empathetic view of the refugees’ stories.

The production team has evidently worked hard to create a world that imitates the stories in the script. The minimalistic set from designer Wendy Todd, along with haunting music from music director Quentin Grant and distinctive lighting from lighting designer Geoff Cobham complements the atmosphere. Aural and visual aspects are vital in enhancing emotional scenes where images, courtesy of filmmaker James Kalisch, flicker against the backdrop to parallel the action on stage.

It is a starkly bare set, with simple props. Only crates and boxes are used, symbolically representing the character’s boxed emotions and the compartmental manner in which they are hidden. “Where do you put the misery?” asks Skip’s girlfriend to him. Perhaps they are stored in little boxes, just like the memories of the refugee’s stories.

In Brechtian fashion the actors linger at the sides of the stage and remove and replace props even as the last scene completes, breaking barriers between reality and drama. The characters address the audience, their emotions conveyed through direct communication to create a more tactile connection. The audience is therefore more aware of each character’s story. A picture paints a thousand words, as the characters retell their experiences, giving a snapshot into their lives.

The actors are given a chance to lay bare their souls, with a script that offers them more heavy silences than words – it is what is not said that speaks loudest. Director Chris Drummond has given the actors a collaborative team of colleagues in both cast and crew and it is evident by their on-stage chemistry that there is a personal accord that runs deep in the group. It is this fiery passion to relate the play to an audience that is palpable. As Drummond says, “we wanted to tell a series of small stories, threads of intimate narratives about people who are ‘caught between two worlds’.”

Chris Pitman fills the demanding role of Skip Miller, portraying a man haunted by the faces of the photos he has taken in Africa. Particularly, he is dogged by the memories of a young man he had befriended. Skip keeps a lens between his subjects and his pain, but it is Pitman’s emotions that bubble close to the surface that draws the audience to him. His girlfriend, Alison Caldicott (Lizzy Falkland) struggles to reconnect with Skip upon his return and Falkland’s shining moment comes in her poignant soliloquy, bathed in a spotlight. Skip’s brother, Neville Miller (Rory Walker) deals with a similar dilemma of attempting to make a connection with the refugee Patience Lugor (Assina Ntawumenya), as she, too deals with inner demons that won’t allow her to trust Neville. Augustus Forkay (Mondli Makhoba) plays another tortured soul, countered with Basel Mgembe (Adolphus Waylee), a refugee in Africa, both men struggling to find purpose in their lives.

One of the most powerful aspects of the play is the actors themselves. Assina Ntawumenya and Adolphus Waylee are refugees themselves and so have personal and relatable connections to their character and their stories. More interesting still, is that this is Assina Ntawumenya’s first professional acting experience, although one would never know by her poignant display. This adds a layer of meaning and truth to the words, one that struck a nerve in each member of the audience, faced with the horrific truth of what these characters had seen and been through. It was a wonder Brink could find actors to fulfil these roles. And what roles they were to fill.

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