Absolute Objectivity | Backbone
When I read through the event description for Absolute Objectivity, I thought ‘this is unmissable’. Pop-artist and songwriter Jeremy Neale comes together with producer Aidan Hogg, co-writer Sampson Smith and a host of Brisbane talent to birth an original Musical Comedy. The story follows CC, a working-class twenty-something in the not-too-far future, and their cat as they take on the evil Dooglecorp CEO-and-world-president. What a grand experiment of science fiction, political commentary, comedy and pop music. Putting together a musical from scratch is a feat most won’t even try. And boy did they deliver.
Image credit + cover image: Morgan Roberts
Backbone was transformed into a glowing corporate dystopia that conjured up visions of 2001: A Space Odyssey and the Apple store. The cast of six emerged clad in matching glittery silver suits and launched into it with the aptly titled, punchy ‘Opening Number’. They brought energy, mostly synchronised dancing and set the tone for one and a half hours of playful absurdity and witty banter.
Excuse my French, but the tracks fucking slapped. Jeremy Neale has woven together some magnificent grooves that work on and offstage. ‘Trillionaire Magic’ and ‘Tell the Truth’ were particularly delicious earworms that had the audience clapping and dancing along.
What I loved most about this show was the playfulness between the audience and the actors. In my experience, musicals have been seized by the upper class and made into private showings of immaculately rehearsed, polished works of high culture where audiences sit neatly in a darkened room and all the action happens on stage. By contrast, Absolute Objectivity is messy, ludicrous, and full of life. It feels like the kind of show that will be different each night. The front of house was lit and the audience organised into tables instead of rows, making the room feel more social. The audience could see and be seen, and the actors listened and responded to the audience’s hoots, hollers and deep belly laughs by extending bits and talking smack.
A cornerstone of musical theatre is the concept of the triple threat, a performer who can sing, dance and act. Nadia Morrison and Sunday Juba were noteworthy for their soul-stirring voices but the performer who rose to the occasion and stole the show was Sellma Soul. Sellma played ‘The Dark Lord CEO’ of Dooglecorp in a diamond-studded, pink silk suit and cape, reminiscent of Austin Power’s doctor evil but with the camp level turned up to eleven. Sellma had an undefeatable stage presence, a strong voice and delivered a character who was fun, lovable and a classic archetype of evil. Siobhan Gibbs played the Dark Lord’s bumbling sidekick, Lackey. Siobhan brought high energy that matched Sellma and she transformed into numerous clown-like characters throughout the show. The two played off each other well and audience cheered every time the duo peeled back onto the stage. When things fell of the wagon, such as Sellma’s pants sliding down after a particularly vigorous dance number, they transformed it into a new moment of comedy.
The show had the irreverence and adult-themed wit of a StarKid musical. In much the same way, it was inspired by popular culture and riddled with references. I believe this is a consequence of the ‘meme generation’, where the standard joke format of set-up-and-punchline is dead and we now relate to each other purely through quotes and gestures.
The show speaks to our current political corruption by corporations and the resulting climate catastrophe and oppression of the working class. It has been written over the last three years and, since the pandemic, only becomes more resoundingly relevant. Absolute Objectivity feels like a love letter to the leftist working-class artists, exclaiming ‘we see you and we know your struggles’. It dares to dream of a world where we might overthrow corrupt corporations with the power of the people, and it is oh so satisfying to watch the defeat of this previously untouchable wealth upon wealth. It portrays the villain as nebulous inhuman greedy creature who only seeks more and more — which is fair enough coming from the left — however, humans are not one-dimensional and without looking at the full picture of these villains we can’t understand them and begin develop effective strategies to take them down.
Image credit: Morgan Roberts
The most interesting part of their political critique was the contradictions in characters, prompting the audience to ask questions about what we know. The clearest example of this was *spoiler alert* the embodiment of vegan twitter who appears to have the right ideas about sustainable living but is flawed in her self-righteousness and purist attitude. I would love to see more disagreements like this between characters that reveal where their individual beliefs lie. At the moment, I feel like they all believe in the exact same socialist utopia. I am curious about how CC might resolve different people’s fears and prejudices to unite them against The Dark Lord CEO, such as convincing Lackey to join them.
Absolute Objectivity is unapologetically Australian. Commonly, musicals are imported from England or America and we find Australian actors putting on accents to fit roles. Here, they embraced the Australian voice in acting and singing, and actively rejoiced in it, with one character imbued with a hilariously thick Aussie accent, Australianisms such as “a few sandwiches short of a picnic” and countless jokes about Australian politicians such as “a bunch of knife-wielding Paul Hogans”. Because of this, I believe it has the potential to rise to cult status and loved as deeply and strangely as The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Absolute Objectivity is nothing like I have ever seen before. It is the most fun I have ever had at a musical. I will be going to see it again and I am excited to see where it goes next.
