21°C | Saturday May 24, 2025 
20 February 2025
By James Mullan
83 year old David Williamson still firmly has his finger on the pulse of Australian society, at least in Aria, regarding the upper-middle class to upper classes.
The playwright has brought us countless Aussie classics such as Don’s Party, The Removalists, and The Club, possessing an understanding of Australians like no other playwright we’ve produced in this country.
The production is masterfully directed by Janine Watson, who is no stranger to the Ensemble, previsously directing Colder Than Here, Alone it Stands, A boradcast Coup and both of the Unqualied plays at the famous theatre.
Aria centers around the living room of matriarch Monique (Terese Mann). The set would be familiar to any Mosmanites or friends from the Eastern Suburbs. Monique is a proudly upper-class, former private school head girl, a pompous, tiger Mum with too much wealth and time on her hands.
As many well-off retired mothers are, Monique now has more time to devote to worrying about her three boys, who have come around for a birthday celebration. Mann gives an outstanding performance that perfectly captures the spirit of Monique, from her deportment and voice to her passive-aggressive politeness and even the simple gestures of unlocking a smartphone with two hands, not too close to her glasses. The audience finds themselves caught between slight resentment, laughter, and, towards the end, a degree of sympathy for the grandmother of five.
The story unfolds in Monique’s living room, incredibly designed by Rose Montgomery, not due to its extravagance but the subtle details. Bottles of expensive bubbly are abundant, photos of the family cover the classical piano, all complemented by boutique, vaguely Scandinavian furniture. The set is all brought together by the miscellaneous collection of strange, Blue Polls-esque modern art on the wall featuring one classic gestural nude painting, to class the place up a bit, of course.
We first meet Monique’s youngest son Charlie (Rowan Davie), a youngish acting marketing man who is incredibly successful; he seems to be the apple of his Mum’s eye. However, his recent choice for his second wife, Midge (Tamara Lee Bailey), has raised some eyebrows.
Midge, a Gen Z, phone-addicted beautician, has yet to win the approval of Monique, who can’t see beyond her beauty.
Tamara Lee-Bailey, whom this writer first saw on stage fronting indie rock band Lahgo with her sister, seems comfortable on any stage. She nails the characteristics of the generation, although at times David Williamson’s dialogue for Midge resembles a collection of memes and buzzwords from about five years ago. Yet, who can blame him? Online cultures move fast, and Lee-Bailey’s performance had the audience captured.
Her chemistry with the ultra-talented Rowan Davie gave the piece depth, taking us all through the ebbs and flows of a potentially uneven relationship.
Definitely keep an eye out for both Lee-Bailey and Davie as stars for the future.
The audience is then introduced to an aspiring member of the New South Wales Parliament and eldest son of Monique, Liam (Jack Starkey-Gill), who is extremely ambitious but maybe lacks self-awareness and, shall we say, a human touch.
Costume and set designer Rosemary Montgomery again shines through subtlety, completely nailing the style of an ambitious youngish politician with chinos that don’t quite sit right, a pair of RM Williams boots, and a light blue button-up.
Liam is hell-bent on becoming premier, seemingly at the expense of his wife Chrissy (Suzannah McDonald), who is maybe at the end of her tether, putting aside her own aspirations to work to take care of their four children while her husband counts the numbers in his pursuit of power.
The dynamic between Chrissy and Midge is particularly fascinating and extremely well-written, as the contrast between the women over different generations is on full display. Maybe Midge is living the life that Chrissy always wanted, and vice versa. Suzannah McDonald should be commended for bringing a mother of Riverview boys and Loreto girls to the stage.
The final son to enter, Daniel (Sam O’Sullivan), is an architect, well, an architectural draftsman who is used to playing second fiddle to his partner Judy (Danielle King).
King’s performance was extremely strong; her elocution and accent accurately portray a character stuck as a lower-class girl who has found herself stuck in a posh world as one of the top partners in one of Australia’s best law firms. The execution felt very real, balancing a no-BS attitude and the desire to keep peace with the posh sensibilities of the world around her.
Judy is an almost Julia Gillard-type character. Gillard, a daughter of Welsh immigrants, worked her way up to being a high-powered lawyer turned politician, maneuvering through a male-dominated world but still maintaining a sense of working-class attitude despite her newfound wealth.
Without ruining the story, there is friction and misunderstanding in all of the relationships, with some characters reaching an exploding point with others. Make sure you hang around for Monique’s Aria, which may leave those in the audience and on stage with mixed feelings.
Overall, the piece is a masterful exploration of the present class divides in Australia. As Monique queries Daniel, “If you lived in India, would you rather be a Brahmin or an untouchable?” It is apt that the production is in Kirribilli, as the characters seem to be based on people you might meet locally.
At the same time, the piece reveals the tensions between not just wealth brackets but also between generations. Through the accurate-to-type performances from all actors, the dynamics between different characters in Australian society are explored, from the traditional housewife to the working wife and image-driven young women. The three private school boys all grew up, be they creative, entitled, or insecure. A widowed matriarch is oblivious to her flaws.
The friction between different members of Australian society is explored smoothly and in a non-pretentious way, causing more laughter than Brechtian reflection.
We sincerely hope this is not the last David Williamson production we see at the Ensemble, as the playwright has proved time and time again he has a remarkable knack for reflecting our society back at us, providing not just a night of fun and entertainment but a piece that causes reflection.
Aria will run until 15 March 2025. Tickets are available at www.ensemble.com.au/shows/aria/