It’s nothing less than a tribute to the genius of this troubled nation that I spent Thursday night in a lovely Sydney pub, quaffing beers and watching some very beautiful Shakespeare in the form of Twelfth Night, Or Whatever.
That I drank, ate and laughed my arse off is more practically a tribute to The Scoop’s omnipresent Editor, who misses nothing and knows everything.
“Good news. Shakesbeer is a thing.”
Sigh. No, it’s not.
“Company’s called Bar’d Work. They tour Sydney pubs, did a sell-out Much Ado and are back with Twelfth Night. So put on some pants and get thee to the pubbery,” she said.
And so I did…
The Ultimate Question
…little suspecting that upstairs at the Balmain Hotel would be the answer to the greatest theatrical question of the 21st century.
Since the dawn of civilisation – or at least since the Czech god of hospitality, Radegast, invented beer – man has wondered: can an Aussie pub really host Shakespeare’s most intimate and emotional poetry?
Fact is, the Big Bard might’ve written for the drinking masses in the yards of plague-free Elizabethan inns, but they never had punting or pokies. The bawdy-messy-funny hijinks amount to little unless it’s offset by the tragic-sublime-poetic.
Can it be done? Oh my God, yes. And bring more beer.
Not only does B’ard Work’s sweetened, condensed cast milk and bottle 90 minutes of intensely generous hilarity and laughter, but to my mind, they whip up all the demanding emotional nuances Shakey asks of them in his most melancholy comedy.
Within ten minutes, we’ve laughed, cried and happily joined in on acoustic covers of AC/DC and Chumbawumba. There’s sight gags, slapstick, gross-out, satire, surrealism, a baggie of crack and a pack of Burger Rings as a substitute for an engagement.
And yet, as the work settles into a cracking, lathery, laugh-riddled rhythm, it’s apparent that cloaked beneath the half-price pints and the comic carnage lies an unmistakable Shakespearean scholarship and an equally taut theatrical discipline.
Anyone remotely familiar with the work of the Balmain Tigers knows damn well that there’ll be no spinning of the magic unless the hard work’s been done up front first. The right to play expansive footy is not universal. And it would appear that Bar’d Director Chris Huntly-Turner is a footy fan.
All the fireworks are set off at once in what looks like an improv’d free-for-all. Instead, it’s just a terrifyingly well-constructed firestorm. Yes, these guys are funny, but no, they’re not just messing about.
Giggles and grief in Balmain
Kicking off with a storm and a shipwreck, Twelfth Night, Or What You Will (or in this case, Twelfth Night, Or Whatever) is among the easier of Shakespeare’s plays to totally screw up.
It’s haunted by a host of lost souls and from the start divides already parentless twins, Viola and Sebastian (played by Olivia Xegas and Mark Barry). Each thinks the other half dead – an unfathomable loss ripe with a PTSD-rich blowback, unresolved until the final moments.
They wash up on enemy territory dominated by a similarly grieving (sister and daughter), the Countess Olivia (Naomi Belet), as well as an emotionally infantile fascist, the Duke Orsino (Philippe Klaus), himself in love with the grief of Olivia’s rejection.
So, bawdy mayhem aside, there’s a fast-moving undercurrent of grief and guilt in every atom of Twelfth Night. And to everyone’s delight, midweek in a Balmain pub, these guys absolutely nail it.
Every cast member rocks. Alfie Gledhill is brilliantly deployed as Feste the Fool, but his function is as Alfie the guide/trickster. The special mention is for Mark Barry as Sebastian. Wonderful, incredible. Enormous.
The songs are brilliant. The energy is through the roof. And the poetry is hypnotic. Also, there’s beer.
Cheers and beers for not ignoring the tears and fears
What raises the play and this improbable production so high is that it’s peopled by a cacophony of characters who’ve the courage to go hard for the happiest joys despite living inside the deepest sorrows.
As Keats would later say, after the benefit of a few centuries of hindsight:
Aye, in the very temple of delight;
Veiled melancholy has her sovereign shrine
What marks this play as f*%king incredible for me is that moments after losing her brother, Viola chooses to just cast away her own life, slap on a moustache and head straight for the mouth of danger by disguising herself as a man (Cesario). Just to win the Countess’ love for the Duke.
Theatrically, yes, it ensures we have tonnes of fab mistaken identity and gender upheaval. But psychologically, it’s hundreds of years before Sigmund Freud. Yet Shakey has his Viola make an extraordinary albeit clinically accurate decision in the face of losing her twin broham.
Viola creates Cesario to not only compensate for the death of her brother – perpetuating and yes, embiggening – her state of grief. But more importantly for Freud et al, by becoming Cesario she effectively redeems Sebastian.
It’s a breathlessly selfless call; sacrificing her own identity just to sustain an image, a shadow of him, alive. And Viola never hesitates in this or in any other of the play’s myriad choices. And that’s why we love her.
The Poverty and the Passion
I’d hazard it takes years of single-minded passion, poverty and patience to understand when and where a gag, an extra beat or a sexy aside (and there are many of these, and they are wonderful) can survive without dragging the entire theatrical construct into the sports bar.
And yet, despite being surrounded by a joyous crowd, the constant chorus of laughter, the cheers, the beers, the tears and fears and the stunned punters looking for the dunny, the company bring it all home.
As for me, I know it’s been a great night at the theatre, same way as I know it’s been a great night at the pub: you’re high as a kite but feel like you’ve made a bunch of great friends.
Bar’d Work meanwhile, will head off to a new pub on the morrow, where they grab a pint, scan the digs for where a play might work and get stuck in. This is noble work. Sublime, even.
The Shakesbeer Sessions presents Twelfth Night, Or Whatever is by Bar’d Work. It runs at various pubs around Sydney until 16 November 2025.
Check the website for dates and locations.
Tickets: https://bardwork.com/tickets/
Website: https://bardwork.com/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/bardwork/
Images supplied.
