Naturism (Griffin) ★★★½

Written by Ang Collins. Griffin Theatre Co. Wharf 2 Theatre, Sydney Theatre Company. 25 Oct – 15 Nov 2025.

It’s shirts vs skins as Novocastrian playwright Ang Collins pits generations against one another for her climate-comedy, Naturism. And yes, it’s true, the cast are completely nude — but it’s not just a naked cry for attention, at least not in the way you think it is.

Evangeline (Camila Ponte Alvarez) has fled Melbourne in search of peace from the mental turmoil of her internet-influencer lifestyle. She’s heard about a commune of eco-naturists in the rainforest, and it sounds like the perfect place. There she finds a bunch of Gen X burnouts, including Ray (Glenn Hazeldine), a former CEO turned hippie; Helen (Hannah Waterman), a frustrated middle-class artist; and Sid (Nicholas Brown), a philosopher with a love of routine.

But it isn’t the paradise Evangeline expected. Sid is suspicious of her, Helen is tripping on mushrooms, and there are signs that something is wrong with nature as their commune grows unnaturally hotter. Then an oversized SUV delivers the self-absorbed Gen Z man-child Adam (Fraser Morrison), full of grand plans for this tract of land…

Nudity on stage is nothing new — cynical producers have used it to sell tickets for decades. Bums on stage = bums on seats. And putting bare skin front and centre is nothing new for Griffin either. But nudity on this scale is a bold move nonetheless. Somehow, in an age of “prestige TV” sexposition and “content creators” shilling OnlyFans accounts, seeing this much flesh on stage is still initially confronting but then you just get on with the show.

Naturism opts to go for our funny bones first, and our brains second. This isn’t a preachy soap-box play, it’s a daft comedy with plenty of jiggly bits. I’m generally not one to enjoy overtly “silly” humour, but Collins and director Declan Greene keep the cartoonish aspects grounded in real motivations and human behaviour. Or perhaps it’s the nudity itself that brings an extra layer of… honesty? Either way, I found myself both laughing heartily and cheerfully invested in these characters and their collective climate guilt.

As much as Collins is critiquing climate denialism, she is more critiquing the vanity of performative activism. As one generation struggles to come to terms with the damage they have wrought, another faces the task of actually doing the hard, boring work to clean it all up for the sake of their own future. Much like the wild fire roaring toward them, the climate emergency doesn’t care about politics, good intentions or boarders – and everyone will need to deal with the consequences.

Full praise to this cast, who completely embrace their roles — especially the dynamic and hilarious Hannah Waterman, whose delicious voice and reactions had me in stitches, and Camila Ponte Alvarez, whose manic, shallow Evangeline shone. Their commitment makes the absurdity feel surprisingly sincere.

Naturism is also the most fully staged show I’ve seen in the Wharf 2 space. James Browne has delivered a simple but vibrant set and, paradoxically, some outstanding costumes for the cast. David Bergman’s sound and music ground us in a sense of place, working with Verity Hampson’s dynamic lighting that moves from carefully focused spotlights to a magical dreamscape and a raging bushfire. This Griffin team know how to maximise a small space.

Once the characters are dragged back down to earth by some harsh realities, Naturism asks us to step away from the noise of modern life and consider the natural world around us. Humans — all of us, regardless of age or status — are an incredibly clever bunch of morons, burning the house down as we live in it. Will some onstage nudity wake us up to reality of our ecological problems? At this stage, it can’t hurt to try.