StarsStarsStarsStarsStars

Theatre review: The Almighty Sometimes, Adelaide Festival Centre

Mental illness in the young displayed with nuance and sensitivity.
A middle-aged woman in a dressing gown is standing a few metres away from a young woman dressed in shades of brown in 'The Almighty Sometimes.'

Adelaide-based Theatre Republic explores the delicate complexities of mental health in its evocative re-imagining of Australian playwright Kendall Feaver’s haunting work The Almighty Sometimes.

Inspired in part by Kendall’s own mental health journey, The Almighty Sometimes expertly weaves together themes of family, identity and personal accountability to create a bleak – at times confronting – but ultimately powerful exploration of mental illness as experienced from the perspectives of 18-year-old Anna (Emily Liu), her mother and her boyfriend. 

After reading her childhood journals Anna becomes obsessed with the idea of rediscovering the imaginative child she was. Fuelled by the prospect of reclaiming the identity she believes a lifetime of medication has stolen from her, Anna makes a bold decision to take charge of her treatment, unwittingly setting into motion a chain of devastating events that have the power to destroy not only her world, but everyone she loves.

Liu delivers an emotionally charged performance as Anna, embracing the complexities of her character with a wisdom beyond her years. Effortlessly switching between the extreme highs and suffocating lows of Anna’s personality, Liu’s captivating performance captures the beauty and vulnerability of a young mind held hostage by an illness it never wanted and cannot control. Whether quietly lost in thought or ranting at the frantic speed of a maniac, her portrayal of Anna’s experiences will resonate with audiences long after the curtain draws to a close. 

Simon Chandler is thoroughly entertaining as the cheeky, cheerful and at times adorably awkward Oliver – Anna’s love interest. At first, Chandler’s lovable performance is a source of unexpected comic relief, but as Anna plunges deeper into her darkness, the audience is forced to watch this once hopeful young man crumble under pressure in a heartbreakingly powerful performance that allows the audience to experience mental illness from an often-overlooked perspective.

Tamara Lee stars as Anna’s mother Renee, who has spent the last eight years locked in a silent battle with her daughter’s illness. Her heart-wrenching performance perfectly captures the exhaustion, fear and crippling guilt parents in her situation may face and is testament to the loved ones who are forced to watch (often helplessly) from the sidelines.

Renee’s guilt is cleverly used as a springboard to explore the concept of medical consent and raises the frightening idea that decisions made by well-meaning parents on behalf of their underage children can have a dramatic impact on their lives well into adulthood.

Anna Steen rounds out the talented cast as Anna’s long-term doctor Vivienne, whose presence serves as a poignant reminder of the impact issues such as chronic underfunding and bureaucratic red tape have on vulnerable people. 

At first glance the small, sparsely furnished stage with its lone table and chairs seems too simple a setting for a story of such complexity, but an emotionally charged script and passionate performances allow the talented cast to transform the space in powerful ways.

Young lovers flirt in a darkened kitchen, Anna’s illness and Renee’s desperation is discussed in the clinical coldness of a doctor’s office and a family reaches breaking point over a meal in a home weighed down by sadness. Each poignant moment is beautifully complemented by simple lighting techniques: a lone spotlight shines down on Anna, isolating her and serving as a visual representation of the distance her illness has created in her relationships. Sudden, blinding flashes of light illustrate the speed and intensity of her mood swings. A small, but powerful musical score further intensifies the emotion of the moment, with the music growing faster and more chaotic as Anna’s mind succumbs to the frantic energy of her downward spiral. 

Referred to simply as ‘the illness’, Anna’s exact diagnosis remains undisclosed throughout the play and there is immense power in this anonymity. It is hard to stigmatise an unnamed condition and this, combined with the fact that many of Anna’s symptoms can be tied to multiple illnesses, gives the play the power to reach a wider audience. Regardless of whether you have/or are going through your own mental health journey or have watched someone you love make that journey it is incredibly easy to relate to these characters.

Read: Performance review: Bite Club: 2nd Serve, Arts Centre Melbourne

Thought-provoking and insightful, The Almighty Sometimes is a powerful representation of an extremely personal issue, respectfully told from differing yet intertwining points of view. A must-see production.

The Almighty Sometimes by Kendall Feaver
Theatre Republic
Space Theatre, Adelaide Festival Centre
Director: Corey McMahon
Designer: Meg Wilson
Lighting: Nic Mollison
Composer: Jason Sweeney
Producer: Annabel Matheson
Cast: Emily Liu, Anna Steen, Tamara Lee, Simon Chandler

The Almighty Sometimes will be performed until 28 September 2024.

Trista Coulter is an arts writer and reviewer based in Adelaide. She has a BA Communication and Media Management from the University of South Australia and is working hard to establish a freelance career as a writer, with a focus on helping local artists promote their work to the world. She is a film enthusiast and enjoys a good horror to get the heart racing.