By Matthew Ryan. Queensland Theatre Company. The Canberra Theatre Centre. 24 June 2015
Ned Kelly is undeniably a polarising historical figure, both hailed as a subversive hero of the people and condemned as a murderous villain by Australians since his death 135 years ago. As the saying goes, “the truth is usually somewhere in between”, but in the case of Matthew Ryan’s Kelly it’s a case of taking the truth and running with it.
Kelly is a revisionist version of the final days of Ned Kelly (Steven Rooke) and his younger brother Dan (Kevin Spink), with the entirety of playtaking place within Ned’s prison cell as he awaits his execution. While contemplating his final hours and tormenting his prison guard (a very effective and sardonic performance by Anthony Standish) a priest arrives to visit, only to reveal himself as Dan Kelly – who was thought to have died in the battle of Glenrowan (but has over the years been rumoured to have survived; escaping to Queensland under a false name).
What follows is a passionate rehashing of the events that led to the brothers’ demise, filled with bitter accusations, recriminations and desperate last attempts for justice and forgiveness. However, while the reimagining of this particular part of the Kelly Gang’s story could be seen as somewhat provocative to Australian history enthusiasts, it doesn’t stop there.
Hearsay over the years has also abounded over the romantic nature of the relationship between Dan Kelly and fellow gang member Steve Hart, with some believing the rumour was dispersed by their enemies as a way to discredit the gang. With all the sensibilities of a play written in a modern context, this innuendo is also unreservedly explored and confirmed in this fictitious version of events.
Rooke and Spink, battling it out as the Kelly brothers, are compelling, with the gripping tension and emotional vehemence tightly maintained for the entirety of the show. While there is plenty of bawdy language, as you would expect from a couple of bushrangers, they also infuse Ned and Dan with a great deal of eloquence as well as complexity and humanity – which too often falls by the way when people make the transition to public icons. But if you’re looking for any clarification as to whether Ned was in fact a “goodie or a baddie”, Kelly is much too sophisticated to entertain such a dichotomy.
The austere setting (Simone Romaniuk) and grating soundscape (Guy Webster) is also perfectly suited for such bleak circumstances, stripping back the aesthetics to accentuate the rawness of the emotional combat escalating between the two brothers.
If you’re looking for gunfights and standoffs, you won’t find it here. Furthermore, as you can likely glean from my description of Kelly, this dramatisation makes no attempt at a historically accurate production. Rather, it is a liberal retelling of the relationships between members of the Kelly Gang, exploring the possibility of truth in the bountiful legends surrounding this infamous bunch of outlaws.
Deborah Hawke
When: 24 to 27 Jun
Where: Canberra Theatre Centre
Bookings: Closed
