★★★★☆
When Tim Winton’s book The Shepherd’s Hut was published in 2018, it received strong praise for the unique vernacular voice of its teenage protagonist Jaxie Clackton, its depiction of the harsh landscape of Western Australia’s desert, its spiritual and moral reckoning, and its brutal, high-impact ending.
Black Swan State Theatre’s production, directed by Matt Edgerton and adapted for the stage by Tim McGarry, is an ambitious interpretation of the novel. With a stripped-back set, stylised movement and the introduction of a chorus performing Jaxie’s internal dialogue and the novel’s supporting characters, the production seeks to bring new theatrical life to Winton’s work.
While visually inventive and theatrically disciplined, it ultimately struggles to capture the devastating emotion of the novel’s conclusion.
Jaxie Clackton, played by Ryan Hodson, is a teenager on the run from a brutal father and a death he feels responsible for. He lands deep in desert country and discovers a hut where Irish priest Fintan MacGillis (played by George Shetsov) has been exiled by the Catholic Church for crimes and cover-ups he has witnessed.
This arid interior becomes the perfect place for both men to hide. In isolation, each must confront the demons from the past that continue to torment them.
The brilliant minimal set by Bruce McKinven is a raised bar of sand that evokes the nearby salt lake and the endless stretch of desert surrounding it. Thin chains hang from the ceiling, creating a veil between life and death, past and present.
Projected onto them are powerful images of a dead tree, the night sky, Jaxie’s love Lee, and most significantly, the terrifying, rage-filled face of Jaxie’s father. He appears throughout the play as a malevolent presence, reminding us of the violence Jaxie is fleeing. (Video design by Roly Skender.)
Matt Edgerton’s direction is tight and stylised, with choreographed precision and bold choices that largely succeed in communicating the action of the novel through abstraction and movement.
The performances feel meticulously rehearsed and operate with impressive synchronicity. In his director’s notes, Edgerton references the embodiment of trauma. This is evident in the urgency, immediacy and desperation coursing through the production.
This is a clever and succinct adaptation of the novel by Tim McGarry. The play begins when Jaxie meets Fintan, while the opening sections of the novel are conveyed through a series of flashbacks.
The audience is treated to fragments of Winton’s superb prose via the chorus, who narrate sections of the action and give voice to Jaxie’s turmoil. Great care has clearly been taken to preserve the urgency, immediacy and beauty of Winton’s narrative voice.
Performances by all actors are strong. As Fintan, George Shetsov’s long white hair and towering height give him the air of a ruined apostle — half holy man, half fugitive. He carries the mythic proportions suggested in Winton’s novel: ascetic, spectral and imposing.
Ryan Hodson conveys Jaxie’s desperation and damage with visceral emotion and striking physical presence as he runs, haunted by the spectre of his demonic father and veering constantly between hope and despair. The trauma coursing through his body is palpable and heartbreaking.
Ben Mortley and Ella Prince also perform strongly as Chorus. Prince’s androgynous appearance lends remarkable versatility to their performance. They shift from dramatic narrator to desperate interior monologue to the tenderness and vulnerability of Jaxie’s cousin and love interest Lee, and finally to the brutality of a murderer.
Mortley similarly displays impressive movement quality and corporeal force as he navigates the production’s demanding scenes alongside Jacob Lehrer’s crisp choreography and Edgerton’s symbolic direction.
The production does not fully match the intimacy and compassion of Winton’s prose. But what it lacks in vulnerability it compensates for with dramatic force and theatrical intensity. The chorus, in particular, navigates the density of Winton’s language with clarity and discipline.
The main thing that stands out about this production is its impressive and innovative form. Every theatre-maker contributes to a polished, well-oiled machine. This is professional theatre operating at the top of its game and seeking to bring new life to a well-loved text.
Unfortunately, the ending lets the production down. The polished theatrical language, choreographed movement and visual control create a striking atmosphere, but in the final confrontation, that same stylisation blunts the horror.
In Winton’s novel, Fintan’s suffering feels unbearable. His torment is visceral and horrific to witness, made all the more devastating because it is filtered through Jaxie’s perspective.
In this theatrical interpretation, however, the depiction of torture is so minimal and stylised that the violence arrives more as narrative information than emotional devastation. Where the book leaves the reader shattered, the play ultimately fails to move.
Black Swan Theatre Company’s adaptation of The Shepherd’s Hut is a visually bold and intellectually rigorous piece of theatre. It demonstrates enormous respect for Tim Winton’s novel while confidently reimagining it through movement, design and theatrical abstraction.
The production’s precision, discipline and formal innovation are consistently impressive, and the performances carry tremendous emotional and physical commitment. Yet despite its many strengths, the adaptation never fully captures the raw intimacy and devastating emotional force that make Winton’s novel so unforgettable.
What remains is a production of remarkable craft and ambition — that is so close to success, if only it could convey the climactic brutality of the source material.
The Shepherd’s Hut is presented by Black Swan State Theatre Company. It runs to 31 May at Heath Ledger Theatre, State Theatre Centre of WA. 174/176 William Street Perth WA 6000.
Tickets are available here.
Website: https://blackswantheatre.com.au/season-2026/the-shepherds-hut
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/blackswanstc/
Photo credits: Philip Gostelow
