“Well may we say God save the Queen, because nothing will save the governor-general.”
I hadn’t even been born when Gough Whitlam stood on the steps of Parliament House on November 11, 1975, and uttered his most famous speech – when he decried his dismissal from the position of prime minister by the then governor-general, Sir John Kerr. And yet, this speech is almost burned into my brain, thanks to living with the kind of stepdad whose shelves are lined with auto (and not so auto) biographies of Hawke, Whitlam, Keating and Gillard, and who watches Question Time like it’s a sport. What a delight, then, to be able to take him to a musical about these momentous events in Australian history – and it’s a bloody good one.
Brought to the stage by Squabbalogic and Watershed, The Dismissal charts the unceremonious sacking of Australia’s most reformist and socially progressive PM, and everything around it, with remarkable accuracy and a charming sense of humour. The show is narrated by Norman Gunston, the bumbling fictional journalist from Wollongong who was beloved by ’70s Australia and created by comedian Garry McDonald. Unbelievably, Gunston was one of the first reporters on the steps way back when; interviewing then Labor Party president Bob Hawke and addressing the crowd with the only joke he’d had written for him before arriving. Matthew Whittet (Darlinghurst Theatre’s Let The Right One In) plays Gunston like he was born for the role – endearingly idiotic, complete with a twitching smile and the lankiest legs you’ve ever seen.
This musical is at once educational, approachable, and aware of the complex context that it sits in.
The book, by Jay James-Moody (who also conceived and directs the show) and Blake Erickson, paired with music and lyrics by Laura Murphy (Bell Shakespeare’s The Lovers), is intelligent, meta-theatrical and most importantly, a whole lot of fun. Murphy’s music has pop-rock sensibilities, filled with guitar riff motifs and heavy drum beats that intensify the action. The clever conceit of Gunston as narrator means that some of the more obscure parts of the story get an explanation, without it feeling like one. The characters are part caricature, and yet they’re firmly rooted in the detail of their real-world counterparts.
The set, co-designed by Charles Davis and Emma White, places the action of the musical on layers of black steps that build up on the York Theatre’s thrust stage. Framing the steps is a rectangular proscenium lit with light bulbs and a Flipboard that declares everything from place names and times to “loo break” and “buy a programme”. Costumes, also by Charles Davis and Emma White, and wigs, by Nicholas Eynaud, are at once extremely serious (dressing Andrew Cutcliffe to the nines as Malcom Fraser) and incredibly unserious (giving Peter Carroll’s Sir Garfield Barwick ghoulish qualities, and Monique Sallé’s Queen Elizabeth II a surprise outfit reveal). It’s this balance of reality and musical ridiculousness that makes The Dismissal a little more complex than “just” a send-up of politicians.
Monique Sallé (ATYP’s The Deb) shines in various roles, including a sniveling Billy Snedden and an aloof Queen Elizabeth II, and the rest of the ensemble are similarly energetic and excellent. Andrew Cutcliffe’s Fraser is cunning and slimy in the sexiest of ways, making the rumoured homoerotic tension between Kerr and Fraser all the more plausible. Octavia-Barron Martin’s (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes at the Hayes) John Kerr is hilariously insecure, terrified that he might make the wrong decision at all times. All of the performers – including Justin Smith as Whitlam himself – make a fantastic team, and all have great moments in the ensemble songs and scenes.
Towards the end, the musical does start to over explain itself, featuring a montage of more recent politicians projected onto a small portable screen in the centre of the stage, and a scene between Fraser and Whitlam in the afterlife. The song ‘More Than This’ reminds us that these people are more than the characters on the stage – a point arguably already made by their robustly written and performed roles in previous scenes.
“Australian culture” is hard to define, it’s complicated by the fact that we are a country built on the colonisation and erasure of the First Nations people that came before us. The Dismissal recognises this, with throwaway quips that “Australian history” is only 200 years old, and an understanding that our politicians and politics are “very white”.
This musical is at once educational, approachable, and aware of the complex context that it sits in. It speaks to the themes of Australian identity that we still wrangle with today – especially in discussions relating to the constitutional recognition of an Indigenous Voice to parliament. Who gets to speak for us? How do they get to be in a position to speak? As my stepdad would attest, The Dismissal reminds us that, constitutional monarchy or not, it’s always going to be a game of personalities and privilege. Will you maintain your rage?
The Dismissal is playing now at the Seymour Centre in Chippendale until October 28, 2023. Tickets range from $84-$119 and are on sale now via thedismissal.com. You also have the chance to score $50 tickets with the "11@11" deal – eleven $50 tickets for the front row will be released daily at 11am for same day performances*. (*Subject to availability. Transaction and handling fees may apply.)
