We all know that politics is a greasy machine where idealism goes to die. A hot new frontrunner for a local electorate seat can hold the bright-eyed hope of youth, while a hard-edged minister eroded by the gravity of office just wants to get the day done so they can head to the nearest bar.
Emily Steel’s Housework aims high, wanting to cover the vast range of staffers of every rank who keep our democracy running – from hopeful interns through to the highest seat in office. Where she lands is often predictable and all-too-familiar territory. The result is an Australian version of House of Cards, but with a lot less blood and a lot more pastries.
What is the plot of Housework?
First-term MP of a marginal seat in Sydney, Ruth Mandour (Susie Youssef), won her campaign on first-hand experience and relatable candour as a nurse during the Covid-19 pandemic. However, her hard-working Chief of Staff Anna (Emily Taheny) is the real backbone of the successful campaign. With Media Advisor Ben (Laurence Boxhall) and the preppy new junior staffer Kelly (Franca Lafosse) rounding out her team, their task is to keep the energy from Ruth’s win all the way through to the nation’s capital.
After a negative Covid test sees Ben replaced by Kelly on a trip to Canberra, Anna uses her previous – possibly intimate – relationship with the Minister for Science, Paul (Johnny Nasser) to help get Ruth’s women’s health bill to cabinet. But Paul’s eyes linger elsewhere as an all-too-familiar scandal falls into place that sees knives being sharpened for some backstabbing that could reach all the way to the PM (Indira Naidoo).
What are the highlights of Housework?
It may take a little while to get going, but when it does, Housework is very funny. The groundwork that’s laid in the first half pays off in a stronger second act that’s full of the many twists and turns of an epic political thriller, and supports the full-bodied characterisation of its political chess pieces.
Shannon Rush’s direction is at its best when she lets Steel’s naturalistic dialogue flow. Youssef, the play's not-so-secret weapon, is a joy to watch in her small reactions to the events that unfold. It's the little moments where she lets a look create a gag that amplifies one of Steel’s punchlines where Housework really hits its comedic gold.
Lafosse’s naive Kelly also finds her own moments of comedy, from her high-school styled luggage, through to her inability to use chopsticks. It’s a sharp piece of direction from Rush as we’re set up to question if this is a woman capable of making her own decisions or one that needs protection from the sharks in the political waters.
Meanwhile, it’s all held together by Taheny’s Anna, whose motives and morals become more questionable as the play moves on. We root for her to make the right choices, and ultimately it’s an investment that pays off.
Surrounding the piece is a symbolic use of Naidoo, who embodies both the highest level of office in the country whilst simultaneously moving the set and cleaning rooms. It’s a purposeful piece of direction, and with the play’s final scene – which features perhaps the play’s funniest piece of dialogue – Steel suggests that perhaps the everyday Australian is numb to the machinations of politics.
Why is Housework a 4-star production?
Alisa Paterson’s set evokes the cold architecture inside Parliament House, with Nigel Levings’ lighting design smoothly placing us inside corridors, offices, and the House of Representatives. It all holds an imposing emptiness that feels like a perfectly placed piece of symbolism for the players that govern within its walls.
As for the text itself, it suffers from predictability. Steel sets up Ruth Mandour as the charming, yet ruthless to work for new MP, and yet her character’s growth ends at interval. The most “ruthless” request we see is her ordering her staffer to bring her a sandwich – she’s no Miranda Priestly. At the same time, gag setups reveal themselves to be red herrings which feel as though they were forgotten to be cut in the dramaturgical stages of the text.
What we end up with is a text that feels like it wants to recreate a sadly all too familiar story that’s been in the headlines, rather than focus on the crushing brutality of office on the most hopeful, dogged members who want to use their platforms for reform.
Who will like Housework?
For those looking for a deeper investigation of government officials that goes beyond recreating scenes that play out in the news cycle, there’s perhaps more that could be done.
For the everyday punter who’s perhaps not as clued into the political news cycle outside of their social media scrolling, Housework will remind you of why it’s important we hold our elected officials to account. Steel’s script and the confident ensemble offers gold nuggets of comedy that are enough for an entertaining night out and will also make you feel smart enough to have understood the satire that is at play.
