Jacky (Belvoir) ★★★★★

Written by Declan Furber Gillick. Belvoir. 16 Jan – 2 Feb, 2025.

Well, the starting gun for the 2025 Sydney theatre season has definitely sounded with Jacky at Belvoir. Funny, brutal, and nuanced—this is everything you want in a contemporary Australian play.

Jacky (Guy Simon) has reinvented himself as the model modern Aboriginal man in Melbourne. Well-dressed, well-groomed, and successful, he’s a million miles away from his family life “up north”. He’s about to step onto the property ladder, as soon as he can swap his high-paying casual work for a full-time job to satisfy the bank. But sex work pays well, and he’s good at it, so it’s hard to give up. When his friend Linda (Mandy McElhinney) uses her position at a recruitment agency to line up a full-time role as part of a cultural outreach to Indigenous communities, it looks like a win-win for them both—he gets his mortgage, she gets a poster child. But things begin to unravel when Jacky’s unmotivated brother Keith (Danny Howard) comes down to stay, and Jacky’s new regular client, Glenn (Greg Stone), starts asking for more questionable role-play.

There is so much going on in this incredibly well-balanced script that it’s easy to overlook how well-oiled the production is. Themes merge seamlessly into one another so that a single scene feels like a whole play’s worth of inquiry. What are the boundaries of racially charged sexual role-play? What’s worse: kink-shaming or historical racism? Do the rules of cultural appropriation apply within the Aboriginal community? Can good intentions justify bad actions?

Declan Furber Gillick has a sharp eye for character, and this quartet are each uniquely human, defying easy stereotyping. He pushes them all to the point where their facades crack and deep truths spill out. Keith may be used for comedy (Danny Howard channels youthful, bro charm and stupidity with glee), but he’s also an important moral voice. Linda is a positive force helping people, but her ignorance, combined with Jacky’s own weaknesses, leads to disastrous results.

And then there’s Glenn, the middle-aged man exploring his long-repressed sexuality. In the sugar-rush of his sexual awakening, he barges past red lines, unaware. Greg Stone delivers one of the most powerful and upsetting performances I’ve seen in a long time. I can’t imagine what it’s like to perform this night after night, fully aware of how it’s received by the (very vocal) audience. Given how well each character inhabits morally grey areas, his slow creep towards a glaring red line feels especially powerful.

Perhaps strangely, there is an element of the well-worn “second-generation immigrant” story in Jacky’s plight, as he works to fit into mainstream Australian society and be like everyone else. His attempts to merge his two cultures into a single identity are successful until put under stress. He loves his brother Keith, but his frustration with Keith’s lazy attitude stems from his own internalised self-loathing. 

Time has done wonders for Jacky. The original run was very good, but with the extra space, the show has relaxed into its moments more. Sorry, Melbourne, but it’s a bit better here in Sydney. Jacky is a psychologically complex man, and Guy Simon has clearly settled into the role even more. New cast members Howard and McElhinney, while not a million miles from the original interpretations, have shifted the balance just enough to work in the show’s favour.

If I had a critique, it would be the show’s final line of dialogue, which, apart from being damn funny, closes the door on one of the play’s biggest questions (yes, it’s frustrating not being able to really discuss it, but spoilers etc.—just go and see it for yourself, then meet me in the pub to dissect). In wrapping things up, it gives a definitive answer after a play of careful ambiguities. Some will no doubt be very happy to finally find some solid ground to stand on, but I rather enjoyed floating in the sea of moral questions.

In my original 2023 review, I wondered, “When is saying ‘sorry’ just not enough?” That question feels stronger than ever now. In Glenn and Linda, we have two very different types of white people. Glenn is offensive but constantly apologetic; Linda is an ally but doesn’t understand the nuance and impact of what she’s asking. It’s questionable which one has a more negative impact on Jacky’s life.

The issues Jacky raises—and the brilliance of their delivery—are fresh and prescient. It’s the kind of play that could only come from an Aboriginal writer, and could only be delivered by a writer of great skill. Incisive, intelligent, and emotionally complex—this is exactly the kind of play I love to see and the kind of inter-state transfer we need more of. Just bloody great Australian writing.

PS—Dear awards voting people: don’t forget this play come the end of the year!