Circa Theatre
March 17-April 21 | Reviewed by Melody Nixon

THOUGH framed as piece of political theatre about refugees, Two Brothers is less a discussion of refugee issues and more a psychological thriller meets examination of power relations. It is nonetheless a gripping and powerful tale. It goes someway to discuss the public apathy of wealthy nations and succeeds in illuminating the issue of power leading to corruption in today’s liberal ‘democracies’.

The play had a huge effect across the Tasman. Many Australians criticised the play; the former arts minister, Rod Ken, openly expressed his government’s disapproval. The play’s focus on the 2001 Tampa refugee tragedy, in which 356 refugees died in Australian waters, provoked much controversy and debate.

However, Two Brothers’ much touted ‘refugee story’ falls in behind the central theme of corruption and media spin doctoring, aiding the plot in so far as giving the left wing brother – Tom Benedict (Nick Blake) - a ‘cause’ to illuminate his politics. It is this cause which pits him against his right-wing ministerial brother, James ‘Eggs’ Benedict (Roger Oakley), who mixes neo-liberal ideas of personal responsibility with authoritarianism. While Tom argues for ethical compassion, for social security and for government accountability, Eggs counters with claims of personal ‘choice’. It is Eggs who is in Cabinet however, Eggs who has the support of his friends in government and Eggs who believes listening to one’s conscience is a weakness.

Two Brothers also explores themes of prejudice and oppression in contemporary Australasian society. Idle comments of “stupid woman” are bandied left and right in humorous tones, and the marginalised wives of the two brothers are shown as either weak (Jennifer Ludlam as Fiona) or overbearing (Sylvia Rands as Angela). Eggs Benedict tells his son Lachlan (Arthur Meek) that “real men” are strong and invincible; that his brother died of a drug overdose because he ‘wasn’t made of the right stuff.’ Eggs’ also slips a racist joke into scene 3 – and we all laugh. Our complicity means we accept prejudice we would not accept in daily life; but if it isn’t funny, why are we laughing?

This complicity does not shine through the whole play however, and could be strengthened for a non-Australian audience. At times we are too able to distance ourselves from events on stage, to say “I’m glad I’m not like that”. ‘Eggs’ Benedict’s egomaniacal quest for self-glorification quickly becomes something removed and irrelevant to our own lives. It is quite difficult to make links with what we know – liberal Helen – and very difficult with what we don’t – libertarian Howard.

The role of Iraqi refugee Hazem Al Ayad (James Ashcroft) is interesting here, as it could work both for and against complicity. When in the opening scene Eggs Benedict kills Hazem in order to protect himself, it is a distilled metaphor for what the Australian government does on behalf of its voters. While the 356 Tampa refugees were not physically killed by Australians, their complicity with an anti-migrant government resulted in the deaths. However, the focus on Eggs’ psychological state again pulls us away from the horror of the act, highlighting it as a sign of his personal ruthlessness, rather than a problem of which the audience is part.

Circa’s production of Two Brothers has aspects which impede its telling, both in the design and direction of particular scenes. The super quick changes between scenes in the first half jolt us from one setting to another, without sufficient time for emotional impact. The music, which is an Iraqi, Algerian, Egyptian mix, seems a little too exaggeratedly and generically ‘ethnic’ to come across as an expression of cultural sensitivity. The use of pre-recorded laughter and applause means that the scenes of direct address fail to involve the audience, leaving us with a feeling of pointless exclusion.

However, the performances of Roger Oakley, James Ashcroft and Jennifer Ludlam shine through these aspects of misjudged staging. Oakley on the whole is a very convincingly corrupt madman. Ashcroft manages the broken English of Hazem and also injects a bit of cultural sympathy into his part. Jennifer Ludlam infuriates us with her subservience, but leads us to see its cause.

While Sylvia Rands provides a generally gutsy and empathic performance as Tom’s Greek wife Angela Sidoropoulos, in parts she rings a little hollow, particularly in the second half of Act Two. And although his consistently principled stance is believable, Nick Blake seems to struggle with the increasingly conflicted nature of his character. But on the whole, Blake plays Tom’s final resolution with truth and clarity – it is the ethical brother who finally puts beliefs before personal gain.

Two Brothers is perhaps not as hard hitting a show in Wellington as it was in Australia, and this production has room for improvement. Even so, it is well worth a view. Its tension, suspense and clever examination of the seduction of power make it a gripping political thriller, if not a genuine discussion of refugee issues.

See also:
» Two Brothers (Reviewed by Helen Sims)