Book by Blake Erickson and Jay James-Moody, Music and Lyrics by Laura Murphy, Conceived by Jay James-Moody. World Premiere. Seymour Centre. 31 Aug – 21 Oct 2023.
Squabbalogic’s time-travelling new musical, The Dismissal, is an assault on your senses (and memories) as it retells the story of Prime Minister Gough Whitlam’s demise. It’s an insane part of Australia’s history, and The Dismissal matches that with suitably manic storytelling enthusiasm.
1975 was an historic year for Australia. Two events would change the course of the nation’s history. Firstly, the Governor General Sir John Kerr (Octavia Barron Martin) would step out from his traditionally ceremonial position and use his reserve powers to remove Whitlam (Justin Smith) from office. Secondly, I was born. Okay, I’ll admit the second one was perhaps less important in the grand scheme of things but was pretty significant to me.
The dismissal of the Labor government was the culmination of audacious political moves and an unprecedented use/abuse of power. Had Whitlam tried to move too fast with his progressive agenda? Had Malcolm Fraser (Andrew Cutcliffe), the leader of the opposition and next Prime Minister, manipulated events to force Whitlam out? Was Kerr a puppet or the puppet-master? These three men would shape the nation, ending a spree of lower-case-L liberal policies and forcing a debate on the place of the monarchy in Australia. Spoiler alert: Australians still hate change and the monarch of Britain, King Charles III, is still our Head of State.
Seen through the eyes of Norman Gunston, Garry McDonald’s satirical small-time TV reporter from the 1970s (played by Matthew Whittet), the events unfold in a not totally linear order. The fact a fictional reporter was actually present for one of the biggest political stories in our history says a lot about Australia’s attitude to news and politics. I’m genuinely curious to see how younger audiences react to Gunston, whose cultural footprint has dimmed over the decades. Are they even really aware of who he is anymore?
You can’t accuse book writers Blake Erickson and Jay James-Moody of playing it safe. This is the kind of inventive, explosive new musical that we’re sorely lacking on stage. If anything, I’d fault the show for trying too much, pushing so hard that some moments feel overcooked, but I’d take a hundred scruffy-but-bold shows over the snoozefest of endless revivals Sydney is currently stuck in.
James-Moody has assembled a near perfect cast that both channel the look of their real-world versions without compromising on the performance chops. Justin Smith, the unsung hero of Belvoir’s Into The Woods, swaggers as the triumphant-the-embattled Whitlam. Cutcliffe’s Fraser is seductive and sharp (a step up from the actual version). But it’s Octavia Barron Martin as Kerr who really steals the limelight. Her dimwitted, insecure version of the real man is this show’s version of Ryan Gosling’s Ken from Barbie. Sincere but lacking, Kerr is shown as being manipulated by others and his own fragile ego into pushing the boundaries of his personal power. Of all the players, Kerr has the strongest arc and characterisation.
Around these three, the ensemble are having the time of their lives (and performing a bewildering number of costume and wig changes). Peter Carroll is chewing the minimal scenery as the demonic Justice Garfield Barwick. Joe Kosky steals scenes with his deep, cerebral Dr Jim Cairns who is often misconstrued. And Monique Sallé should be earning triple pay for her barnstorming turns as Opposition Leader Billy Snedden, International Trade Emissary Tirath Khemlani and, best of all, Queen Elizabeth II – that one is worth the price of admission alone (think Diana: The Musical but actually deliberately funny).
However there is a lack of focus to the show that starts to frustrate as the evening progresses. Whitlam and Fraser never feel truly defined, not in the way Kerr is. Minor storylines, like the sexist treatment of Junie Morosi (Shannen Alyce Quan) which has no real impact on the story, feel inserted just because Quan is so good it felt like a waste not to give her a solo number. The final epilogue feels needlessly tacked on to bring events to the modern day. While there are some hilariously catchy tunes (“Private School Boys” and “I’m Not Listening” are real standouts), others come across as filler (Whitlam’s anthem “Maintain Your Rage” doesn’t really land).
The Dismissal combines the satire and fun of The Wharf Review with big musical theatre energy for a very Australian show. This is the kind of show I crave to see more of. Australian stories told with zeal and imagination. While it may occasionally lose its way, it is guaranteed to never bore you.
Cultural Binge 
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