Little Mercy – Sydney Theatre Company

Little Mercy is a high camp, queer-glam confection of horror movie tropes and cleverly drawn characters.  A real treat of an import from Melbourne’s Sisters Grimm, Sydney should check out this limited run as soon as possible.

Comfortably housed in Sydney Theatre Company’s Wharf 1 theatre and designed by David Fleischer, the platform stage and bare surrounds carry through the fringe-iconolocast feel that makes this show come alive; the perfect living room for theater-director-and-wife we open on feels very Capra-esque. Clever lighting and AV (by Verity Hampson) shows us a windowpane with gently falling snow. Carols play. Our scene is set…

…And then, systematically, it is perfectly, purposely and delightfully subverted. Virginia (Ash Flanders, in flawless drag) and Roger (Luke Mullins) are aching for a child to bring into their home. When they discover to their surprise their application to an orphanage they don’t remember applying to (classic!) has been accepted, they open their door to find their new pride and joy, Mercy.

[pull_left]It’s new, it’s different, it’s queer, and that vitality of work in STC’s stables is so desperately needed. See it.[/pull_left]

Only, Mercy isn’t quite what she seems. It’s the evil child film writ large and playfully twisted. Sweet little Mercy is brought to life gleefully by none other than Jill McKay.  The boy from The Omen has nothing on Mercy, who sends her mother, and the entire world around her, into a paroxysm of terror. Or does she?

The plot is too fun as a surprise to recount but there’s so much to enjoy here: the live scoring (Steve Toulmin) and the fourth-wall breaking (the stage hand might become your favourite character). The dual-character roles by Luke Mullins as a theater director even more pompous than both the one from The Nanny and the guy from Smash, and then – brilliantly – as Mercy’s governess are two star turns rolled into one, and they’ll both leave you laughing. The sound and lighting never boasts a mainstage polish but provides exactly the right effect for this production, and excels. It’s the right fit for this show, and that’s what’s great about it – Little Mercy knows what it is, and stays true to itself, which is exactly what a comedy needs to do to maintain its integrity. Indeed, most of the fun of this show lies in its other-ness and its embrace of the madcap, of the slightly off-kilter, of its queer sensibility and sense of humor.

The script is tight, devious, and crafted with a twinkle in the proverbial eye by Declan Greene (he also directs), who manages to poke fun at horror movies lovingly. There is great fun to be had in spotting the theatrical references too – Roger’s must-have investment is delightfully awful, in the vein of Starlight Express – and as a response to the quick-fire, Americanised world of pop-culture we live in, Sisters Grimm have hit the bullseye.

Upon leaving the theatre, an older gentleman remarked to his friends, “Well, that wasn’t Shakespeare.” Except its adaptation of common story elements are very Shakespeare (bonus: the word “drag” comes directly from Shakesepeare), and it’s packed with euphemism, innuendo, and familiar, classic character archetypes. It owes a lot more to Shakespeare than you’d think. By the same token, though, the best thing about it is that it isn’t another Shakespeare – it’s new, it’s different, it’s queer, and that vitality of work in STC’s stables is so desperately needed. See it.