Queen's City | Blak Social

Nostalgia rules when I recall the 80’s.

It was the decade I got married, became a mama (not once but twice) and bought my first home. I remember the music fondly as Madonna reminded me what it was ‘like (to be) a virgin’, Whitney Houston reinforced that I should ‘dance with somebody who loves me' while Dire Straits insisted that this is (my) ‘walk of life’. 

‘Set in the nostalgic Eighties’ leaped out at me as I browsed the Brisbane Festival program. The play… Queen’s City. An opportunity not to be missed I thought. I’ll be catapulted back in time and simultaneously be privy to this world premiere, debut production by Blak Social right here on Jagera and Turrbal land. 

Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time after Time’ accompanied my arrival at the Cremorne Theatre where I was greeted by an intricate set designed across two levels. 

Eye-level with the audience, the set-up resembled a video arcade cum roller-skating rink cum karaoke bar (or MURRIoake bar as expressed during the performance) called All Wayz located in fictional Queen’s City (on the wrong side of Restriction Avenue). Adjacent to this design and set above eye-level, was a separate stage resembling the set-up for a live concert. It is from this vantage point that the song keeper vocalists (think Cyndi Lauper/Tim Minchin doppelgangers) guide the audience through the plot. Lucky Ous (Matilda Brown) and Proppa Shred (Loki Liddle) embodied their respective roles. The karaoke style glam rock duo’s original lyrics appeared on a screen cementing the 1980’s feel of the show.  

News via a retro looking radio announce that state institutions and government bodies are intent on gentrifying the area. There are threats to demolish and replace All Wayz with new ‘culturally significant’ attractions and even a museum. Local matriarch Truth (Paula Delaney-Nazarski) and her trusty family of attendants Justice (Garrett Lyon), Magick (Tibian Wyles) and Grace (Perry Mooney) are hellbent on saving All Wayz. 

The script is clever, witty. Its wicked sense of humour is pitch perfect interspersed with politically incorrect undertones that didn't miss a beat in engaging the audience. Slogans - treaty, ally, decolonise - on some tee shirts lowkey compliment the storytelling. Puns are plentiful. When characters are transported into the past, the video machines are creatively used to compliment the witty dialogue - Blak Man and Space Reclaimers replace the iconic Pac Man and Space Invaders. 

The predominantly youthful cast gave an enthusiastic, energetic performance brimming with sass. Will Carseldine as Victor encapsulated his role as the love-sick ally who is smitten with Grace. My only qualm - the vocal levels tended to fluctuate depending on where the characters were on stage. Although brief, the dance sequence was joyful and fun to watch - the skater impressing me with her agility to dance on two wheels. Illustration (Dylan Mooney) and AV design (Ken Weston) adds another dimension to the script via the MURRIoake screen. Jody Rallah’s costume design is awash with neon, spandex, ripped knees, lacey shirts, leg warmers and bling. Overall the 1980’s glam rock aesthetic added another layer to the unfolding of this debut performance. 

Writer/director Alethea Beetson took several years to complete Queen’s City. It’s a big work. It’s a bold work. It has a lot to say with its multi-genre approach - part theatre, part gig, and lots of political commentary. It’s interesting to note that cultural dramaturgs Auntie Colleen Wall and Uncle Charles Passi were involved in the making of this work. Alethea has taken a refreshing approach to telling First Nations stories and has turned that singular, unbalanced narrative into a fierce, honest and sometimes searing commentary on how to move forward by showing us how to look back. The trauma and pain of our First Nations people is an indelible stain on the history of Australia. Queen’s City is an ideal example of a theatre production that can create awareness through its storytelling so that we can move forward and together as a nation (hopefully).

Queen’s City proclaims that it’s “Gonna steal ya hearts, like ya stole our land.’’ 

Well, it did. 

Steal my heart. 

But Queen’s City also gifted me an even deeper understanding of the generational effects of colonisation portrayed by its youthful cast who brought this honest, upfront script to life. 

The resounding audience applause signalled their agreement with the above.